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Messages - RaynePOTM

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Blue Riders / Re: Faennilin [25.10.2572 // Bluerider]
« on: April 30, 2018, 10:15:38 PM »

Q'ellan smiled politely at Araena, adding a concise, "To be sure," to Araena's affirmation that she cleaned Ceryth often. It was one of the delights of being a new Weyrling, the physical connection of just spending some old fashioned time with their dragon. They spent every moment being mentally connected to one another, but it was a privilege to be able to bathe and oil and dragon. Q'ellan didn't think that would personally ever change for him. He'd be grateful for Ooromoth every day.

Thank you! The red added to Araena before turning back to his cloud-watching.

"Ceryth too." Q'ellan added. "He's becoming more ruby-like every day." They'd been in the same Weyrling-class long enough for Q'ellan to know that Ceryth would likely appreciate the compliment, even if his colour-blindness meant that Q'ellan wasn't too sure of the fact.

Void squirmed in his pocket and a soft trill informed Q'ellan of the arrival of W'lleni before the shadow of Iaoth did. An impressionistic image of a large brown shape looming in his vision from Void accented W'lleni's words to Q.

"Of course you can." He spotted W'um looming and gestured to the other two. "Come on. W'um may not be supervising so strictly today, but the old man has some good ears on 'im." Q almost flinched as the old word slipped out, but it would likely go unnoticed by the others. It wasn't as if they knew that his occasional clipping of words was him regressing into Hold-like ways.

Spoiler for Hidden:
@RaynePOTM @Red I finally did it. Here you go <3

Universal Events / Re: [ 16.8.2590 ] New Food Source
« on: April 22, 2018, 10:58:05 AM »
Phenust has arrived with the records and they are woefully inadequate. All fishers are welcome to come up with their own interpretation >:3

It didn’t take long for Phenust to show up just as the creatures were being hauled into the Hall. Records tucked under his arms and wrapped in protected, oiled leather against the weather. Such things were precious, after all, and even now they couldn’t risk being exposed to the elements. The man looked haggard and hurried, but he didn’t stop along the beach to ask a bunch of unnecessary questions. He’d been out on a boat, like everyone else, and had rushed to collect the required information as soon as it was apparent they had a situation on their hands.

The gutting hall was cleared out of everyone but other fishers. Dragon riders and other weyrfolk need not be apart of this particular deliberation. Once they were under the roof of the hall, space was cleared out and wiped off so that Phenust could display the woefully incomplete records they had on shipfish. Some journalistic ramblings of a previous master and artful sketchings that, frankly, detailed something that could’ve just been a big fish.

Phenust made a face at the sketches and details before taking a step back so all the fishers gathered could look, should they like. Something like this would need to be discussed amongst the craft and they wouldn’t want silly rumors running around that they’d actually killed what was most definitely a shipfish.

Honestly, there was no way to tell.

Priority was granted to the journeyman, but even the apprentices were given a chance to look after they were done.

Kenna grinned happily as her brother swept her up into a family-characteristic bear hug. Smaller than slighter than her step siblings, Kenna had always been woefully aware of their lack of genetic relation. Not that it particularly mattered to her, they'd always been her brothers, the technically of that fact hadn't mattered to her.

"Of course I saw him on the sands. The way he just flumped on that silvery black!" Flumped probably hadn't been the most endearing term to describe the brown's bravery, but it worked for Kenna. She'd never really been one with words.

Entering the room, Kenna's eyes were all for the magnificent brown. Yes, he was a little... chubby, but he was a dragon, not many people could hide the awe at seeing one up close. It was so different, seeing one looking so fragile when compared to their full size. She couldn't even imagine what Kalestath would have looked like as a hatchling, feet twitching in her vulnerable sleep.

"He's gorgeous, Wooly." She said, even as she greeted Iceman with a coo and a head scratch, Rell taking the opportunity to cock his head in greeting at his blue brother.

Now noticing the other beds in the room, Kenna whistled appreciatively. "You only have two room mates now, definitely goin' up in the world." She added cheekily.

OOC Hang Out / Re: Flight Rising
« on: April 13, 2018, 11:37:00 AM »
Could finally afford my lair expansion, so have some more babs. Free to y'all if you want any of them. :love:

Edited cause some got snagged

Spoiler for There are a lot:

Absences / Re: Update
« on: April 10, 2018, 09:33:25 AM »
Thank you.

On April 6th I went into the hospital. I was having shortness of breath, chest tightness with a little bit of pain, dizziness, and coughing. Feeling only slightly better with the breathing, though no chest issue.

Come to find out I have a possible blood clot, and I have a little bit of fluid in my right lung, more like between the layers around the lungs but on the right side.

Feeling horrible now though. I'm hoping to have this figured out this coming Thursday, April 12th, so I can get back into posting here! I miss you guys.

Universal Events / [ 29.3.2591 ] Murphy's Law
« on: April 07, 2018, 12:57:07 PM »
Murphy’s Law

29.3.2591 // 8:25 am

So far in the history of Southern Winds, the Pernese have had to deal with Snakes, Hunters, Skycoursers, Sharpfish, lethal Hatchings, cursed Wingleader positions, a lack of food—and, most recently, a sandscab infestation. But of all the things they’ve had to endure, rampant disease was not among them. However, though it might not be widely known among the general populace, the Healers have been braced for something like this for a while. Outbreaks of disease were an inevitable part of life at Fort Hold, with so many people crushed in together—and their records as well as the older members of their Craft would remember that the warmer Southern Continent always seemed to have more diseases than the North…

Flush fever was fairly uncommon in the South, and this is the first outbreak of it—much less any tropical disease—in significant numbers on the island. Because of the long incubation period before symptoms appear, the Healers aren’t sure where the outbreak began, especially since it’s affecting riders, weyrfolk, and even Crafters alike, but it’s serious enough to warrant an announcement in the Weyr. Wingleaders will have already informed their Wings earlier in the morning when gathered for duties.

During breakfast, Healer Craftmaster Brigan, under the approval of the Weyrleadership, issues a state of emergency. Those exhibiting symptoms are highly encouraged to check in at the Healer Hall for screening and treatment. While individuals with relatively mild cases may recuperate in their weyrs, they are likewise encouraged to have healthy friends or relatives check in on them from time to time. The Hall has already encountered a few cases that have developed into more advanced and life-threatening stages.

While this is going on, the Weyr will be operating with something of a skeleton crew, and some activities may even come to a halt. Movement between the Weyr and Hold will proceed as normal since flush fever is not contagious among humans, and dragonkin cannot catch it.

Flush Fever –
Spoiler for Information & Symptoms:
Flush fever is a tropical disease characterized by high fever, headache, vomiting, muscle and joint pain, and the symptom that gives it its name—a reddened skin rash. Symptoms usually begin three to fourteen days after infection, and recovery usually takes between three and seven days after onset. Even after recuperation from the disease, feelings of fatigue can last for many weeks.

In rare cases, symptoms can worsen as the fever diminishes, resulting in severe bleeding and associated anemia, low blood pressure, and shock. This potentially lethal form of the disease is more common in children and young adults.

(For those interested in this sort of thing, the vector for this disease is mosquitos, and it’s modeled after Dengue fever.)

IC Thread

Elrethra || Tresrissa

Checked In
Eimerra || Rinneir || Tolanna
Droissa || Nieve || Penderton || C'dus || Saviavi || Nealros || Bekareni || F'erro || T'rel || R'ael
T'ghen || Niphredon
Aldrekayn || K'mar || Callista || M'kale || Z'tai || Phaedralena || N'iko || Kharismene || Saleizo
J'ken || T'veck

Standard event participation practice applies. Post in the event thread or here giving us a sentence or two as to what your character might be doing at this time. If you miss 5 events in a row, your account will be deemed inactive. If you are posting elsewhere but skipping the events, remember : we do not require IC participation. Simply post here under your Player account and let us know what's going on with your character.

Healer Hall / How's Your Temperature? [ 29.3.2591; 8:25 AM ] || Event
« on: April 07, 2018, 12:56:57 PM »

After the announcement and a brief breakfast, Brigan returned to the Healer Hall. He did not look hurried exactly, because he never did—looking hounded or ragged simply wasn’t in his nature—but his eating of his meal had been quick, efficient. He was not a man who wasted times at the best of them, and certainly not now.

Nor had he gone to the Weyrleadership lightly. By and large, they left the Healer Hall alone to run itself as the Masters saw fit. Allied as they had been during the Pass, any political maneuvering had died along with Brigan’s predecessor. That sort of thing was best left to the Harpers, he’d always felt—harkening back to the days before the Ninth when their Hall had done exactly that. Healers were meant to be the ultimate neutral party, as Brigan saw it, treating both Weyr and Hold indiscriminately and thus keeping out of any more entangling affairs.

So the relationship between the Craftmaster and the Weyrleadership was one of neutral, quiet respect. When he went to them with a concern, it was a rare enough thing that they knew well enough to listen.

The Healer Hall, as he stepped into it, was a buzz of activity, though his fellow Crafters parted in his wake almost subconsciously as he moved through their ranks. With suspect patients now dutifully filing in, the place was only going to get busier. Those dragon riders who had felt ill enough had already been screened and processed. Now, though, everyone else in the Weyr would be showing up at their doors.

It was going to be a long week.

Spoiler for OOC:
Who doesn’t like having to deal with illness? 8D Just about anyone can participate in this thread, since people from all ranks and walks of life are liable to be infected. Feel free to post with any characters you want to be ill, and/or with those who might think they are but ultimately aren’t. (Or at least not yet.) Just indicate in your post if you want them to ultimately pass the screening.

You’ll all be free to arrange just how serious your character’s illness gets otherwise, unless you want to arrange something with the staff for extra tension. :love:

As always, you can check in here if you prefer.

Adoptables / Re: Creature Bank
« on: April 03, 2018, 09:33:39 PM »
This template is so easy to use and I'm in love

Code: [Select]

Mine Hall / Re: They Do Move in Herds [ 14.02.2591 / 06AM ]
« on: March 29, 2018, 05:28:15 PM »
"Mama? Sohsk is acting weird."

"Sohsk. Hey Soshk. What're you doing?" Sohrelle had paused in the chewing of her meal to stare down at her wher, frozen where the green had been sitting by one of the legs of the table. She shrugged, ruffling Rossell's hair on his head, and simply letting him know that Sohsk would get over whatever it was soon enough.

Sohrelle still didn't really know how to sift through her whers emotions, and connecting those emotions to Sohsk's actions at this moment seemed nigh on impossible on top of trying to keep Sohred's food in his mouth and his crying at bay. The little toddler still liked to reply upon screaming to get his way, and while Sohrelle knew she couldn't always give into his demands, but in the Hall she knew that Rossed would be very disappointed if they caused a scene.

A loud scream of a dragon burst through the cacophony of the Hall, sending a shudder through everyone involved. What was... A cry of the word Hunters caused Sohrelle to spring to action even as everyone else did, scooping one child onto either hip and nudging the still frozen wher with her foot who cringed away from the touch. "Sohsk. We need to go. Sohsk!" But the wher's emotions in her head were too muddled, too confused. The fear from Sohrelle's mind blurring their connection and making it difficult for her to put any force into her order.

Buffeted by someone passing by, she almost lost her balance, clutching onto her two boys as she steadied herself. Shards. And she ran, leaving her wher where she huddled, knowing that she'd either find her way back to their home cave, or they'd find her when it was safe again... probably For now, she had to get her kids to safety.

Briefly in her flight, Sohrelle thought of Rossed, and whether he was rallying to answer the attack, but Sohred's piercing cry of fear dragged her back into reality, and she ran down the caverns with the rest of the fleeing crowd.

Zeph popped from between chattering and flapping, scattering a few sheets of the records he'd landed on. He was projecting hunger at Eimerra, but without any actual want. He seemed somewhat distressed, but he was prone to pranks and, for a flit, was oddly good at deception to pull them off.

With an irritated huff, Eimerra scooped up the stormy blue flit and set him on the floor. “Go on, I don't have time for your tall tales, Zeph. I need to finish these then meet with a couple Crafters.” No sooner had the petite woman picked up papers and resumed her work than a knock on the open door frame interrupted her (again). “Yes?” she asked, turning to find a young apprentice from the Fisher Hall, by the smell.

“The Master Fisher sent some of us to the Weyrleaders…”

He seemed a shy, so Merra smiled, “Well, you found one of us. What happened?” He wasn't out of breath from running or panicked, so surely it wasn't something catastrophic. “Come. Let's head back out there and you can tell me on the way.”

The flits are all chattering about stolen food, mine. Zeph wasn’t up to mischief for once! /Stolen food?/

The young Fisher cleared up the confusion right on cue, though he couldn't hear the Gold. “Sandscabs got into the barrels, Ma'am. You don't have to come down, but we were told to notify you.”

“Well, I needed the break, anyway.”

~~~~~~~ }<^¡> ~~~ <¡^>{ ~~~~~~~

On the beach, apprentices and candidates were already rolling barrels in a steady line, no doubt heading for a spot for a good bonfire. Eimerra's stomach knotted at all the contaminated stores, then churned at the smell carried on the breeze. She crinkled her nose and kept her walking pace as her young escort ran off to catch up with a friend.

It looked like her break would be extended; she would stay to help roll barrels, though the thought of the smell once they started the fire…Well, she might have to head back to the Weyr for that.

Spoiler for Hidden:
Fishy page break XD

Absences / Update
« on: March 29, 2018, 06:18:26 AM »
Okay, had another angiogram done on my right leg last Thursday, March 22nd. Everything was fine until the doctor cut into me. I felt it and wanted to scream. I wasn't numb enough yet, so they had to wait for a bit until I was numb. It hurt very BADLY.  :shock: I was on the table so I couldn't move and they had an oxygen mask on me. I guess my oxygen intake wasn't right or something so they had to use the mask. They used a combo of drugs to put me semi under. They call it a twilight something or other.

After the procedure, according to their oxygen monitor machine, my breathing was off or something. They kept asking me if I was breathing. lol I felt fine and I was waking up, but the other half of me wanted to sleep. lol Been doing okay since the procedure.

Some of you already know that my Uncle passed away back in October of 2016. My Aunt, his sister, had been going through court to get his estate in her name and such. And then our Aunt's boyfriend, Jerry, passed away March 1st of this year. He had COPD from being a smoker. So on March 26th, I attended a double funeral for both gentlemen that my Aunt set up.

So, been feeling a bit .... bleh, for the last several weeks. My apologies for the lack of posts.

Ysveta too, had been some of the unlucky candidates to be roped into the chore. As much as she hadn't been regretting the duty, the waft of rotting flesh that hit her nostrils when she approached the doors of the storage house had her almost turning on her heel to retch. But the feeling was only momentary, like any difficult odour, her brain eventually blocked out the smell enough to get rid of the visceral reaction of a warehouse full of ruined fish.

Once she had managed to get herself under control, Ysveta found a spot in line, restraining from commenting about Calladren's quip. She had been about to tell him what sandscabs were, but her previous encounters with the fellow candidate had made her learn that she frequently misinterpreted what he was saying. Better keep quiet in case this was one of those times. If he really needed to know, he could ask a fisher, they would surely be able to inform him accurately.

See? She was learning.

The song he sang however was interesting. Not one that was currently being circulated in the Harper Hall to be sure, but she'd come across the score in her studies before. It wasn't the most intricate of songs, nor anywhere near to something that she truly enjoyed, but it had a certain charm to it. Ysveta couldn't help thinking about how much nicer it would be with accompaniment and contented herself with arranging a pipe trio accompaniment to the tune in her head.

No work was quite so bad when there was a song in the wind.

Rider Weyrs / Re: Airborne [ 20.10.2590 || 3 AM ]
« on: March 28, 2018, 07:11:17 PM »
Callista was lost in Ariyath before the first competitor arrived in her weyr. She’d succumbed to the green as easily as giving in to sleep. It felt like falling into place. Here they were one. They were whole. The weyr fell away from view, and she was no longer thinking of the challengers who would enter her space or who might claim her tonight as a prize. Her feverish body stood by the bed, its only movement caused by the thick, excited breaths that tasted like fresh mountain air.

Ariyath didn’t waste any time waiting to see who would follow her. The more air she put between herself and the others, the more of a challenge it would be to make it to her. It wasn’t only her speed and agility as a Jungle green, who spent most of her time weaving through the Jungle and trying to catch wherry, but the wind that would make this morning a true contest of strength and will.

A burst of wind ripped through the mountain, tearing down and forcing her to the right. Her wings angled and pushed into the current, using her wings as sails to propel her forward before she barrel-rolled out of it. Ariyath climbed through the sky, bringing herself higher and higher over the sea now. She could finally see those that followed, though she’d heard a few of them at the start of her flight.

Her two favorites, Illoth and Skeleeth, were present, and although she enjoyed their company above any others, that favoritism played no part in her Flights. They knew that they would have to fight equally as hard as the rest to catch her. She wouldn’t be satisfied until the best dragon that chased her pulled her from the skies. She would not give in easily to any of them and would have to be forced to give in for this flight to end.

Another Jungle bronze, Goranth, sang sweet words to her. He was younger, but a Jungle rider and dragon were always counted as fierce competition. A brown, Uramaeth, praised her skill and taunted the wind. Had the sun been awake, Ariyath would have likely glowed momentarily from their attentions. However, it was the quieter dragons that drew her attention. Those who would take her flight seriously and know that any effort spent should be in finding the best way to catch her. Whether it was by speed, strength, stamina, or even strategy to catch her unsuspecting. The bronze from another Wing and the familiar Adakhanyth, who showed their intent by the force of their wings and silent conviction.

News traveled fast. Bad news traveled faster. One of the things Halirina got to oversee was the weyr’s food. It was important. Rationing was more so. When word of the infestation of the fish reached Halirina, she waited oh so politely until her aide had closed her office door before she up ended the contents of her desk on the floor in a flash of rage.

It was childish but damn it. If it wasn’t a hunter attack, if it wasn’t beach snakes eating people, then this?! She ran a hand over her face, through her hair, then walked out of her mess of an office with the intention of going to see for herself. Maybe it was all a cruel joke she could have someone tossed into the ocean for.

It’s not, her Gold supplied helpfully. Observing from her place in the weyrbowl, where the dragon had landed to scope it out without being in the way. Even from this distance, Kalestath’s eyes rolled into an irritable yellow at the smell.

So much prepped fish. Salted to last. A waste of minerals, time, and just.... a waste.

When she arrived, Halirina stood a moment to stand and survey the mess. She’d want an accurate count of everything lost, but that could wait too. She passed a hand over her face once more before sighing and moving to help. It wasn’t like she was going to get anything else done this morning with this on her mind. Her aides would no doubt fall in line and help once they tracked her down too.

Khary frowned as she and the other candidates who had been asked to help the fishers out gathered at the shack. Some of the others gasped and then, immediately regretting it, covered their mouths and noses in an attempt to keep out the stench. If that would even help. It smelled awful. And if she looked closely enough at the next barrel that Master Phenus was inspecting, she could see the creepy, crawly insects and their eggs scattered across the top of the pile of fish and even latched on to the underside of the barrel’s lid.

Now, she was not a pansy or a squealing little girl. But she also had no particular interest in spending her early morning rolling some bug-infested barrels down the beach. The fishers messed this up, so shouldn’t it be their responsibility to clean it up? Not her problem.

She took a small step backward, as if giving a classmate room to see better. She waited a moment, and then took another step back. The fisher man giving instructions turned to indicate the barrels as some of the crafters behind him put the lid back on, rolled it onto its side, and demonstrated rolling it. Kharismene took the opportunity while his back was turned to slip completely out of the shack and around to the backside where no one would notice her.

Ravage appeared in the air above her and trilled a sharp and rough greeting. “Hush, or you’ll get us both in trouble!” She chided in a harsh whisper, though that didn’t keep the smile from tugging at her lips a moment later. Khary’s arms outstretched toward the over-sized bronze flit and he immediately obeyed. She held him to her chest and looked around for something fun to do. Her head peeked around the corner where crafters, riders, and candidates alike were busy at work and filled the beach. She sighed dramatically. “Well, Ravage, I guess rolling dumb barrels is better than doing nothing.”

She held him up to her neck so he could latch on and rest across her shoulders and her arms would be free again. Khary waited for the next flock of candidates and riders to return, blocking the entrance to the shack and hopefully the view of her, before sprinting to the back of the group. The hope that the number of barrels would run out by the time she was next in line was dashed as the next one was dropped in front of her. She smiled at the fisher and pushed at the barrel, niiiiiice and slow to take her time down the beach.

T'veck was sure Baleth wasn't passing on the entirety of what seemed to be a rather thorough scolding, not that he didn't deserve it and he added his own once Baleth stopped grumbling about the Bronze and his rider and how he knew what he was doing. //What part of, perfect didn't you get? This isn't a competition.// Then again... //The only way to win in drills is to prove that you can do everything exactly right and match it to any wingmate.//

They are making us do things we learnt when we first started flying! He sounded disgruntled and slightly insulted at the obvious lack of faith in his abilities.

//Yes. And when we do them perfectly, they'll do harder things. And then they'll use us to show the younger weyrlings how things are done because we always do it perfectly.//

They will see that I am the best flyer here. T'veck grinned as he let his dragon feel his agreement and approval. We are to practice thread manoeuvres. Sweep cover for a cluster above.

T'veck nodded, imagining a thread cluster falling onto Thianorth from above them both and waited as the Bronze dropped out of the way, before they backwinged, Baleth holding the awkward position with what seemed to be little effort as T'veck marked time for how long they'd need to flame to destroy a large cluster. //Clear.// T'veck said and he heard Baleth relay as they swung back into level flight which should have them flying just behind and to one side of Thianorth once he regained his altitude.

T'veck patted the black neck with a grin. //See, perfect.// He should have thought of this trick back when they first started flying and Baleth had been adamant that he knew best and that showing off is the best way to show how good a flyer he is. //Now let them know that there's another thread above us.// T'veck said when the Bronze was back in position as he grabbed for his straps, ready for the freefall to get out of the way of imaginary thread and flame.

Spoiler for OOC:
@Kyya It's working for me. I'm no dragonrider :( so your guess about drills is as good as mine.

Fisk gave the room a glare as Phenust gave his instructions. It was all that could be expected from a sandscab infection, Fisk had tried in vain to not entertain an idea of hope. They'd all heard of infections, those who worked out of Ista had always been very cautious with the state of their shipments, you never knew when a single scab would wiggle their way into the turn stocks.

With the Master's instruction, Fisk got to work. The first disgraced barrel within arms length had it's slid slammed back on, and the rolling began. Soon enough the dragon riders would be in here to lend a hand, as this would surely halt production until the stores were completely rid of the vile creatures.

He didn't even detest insects all that much, but the thought of scabs, paired with the now very clear image of a turns worth of fish gone to waste, made his skin crawl, and if their spiky little legs were crawling all over his arms and legs.

His nod to Phenust as he passed was one of simple understanding, Fisk may not be a Master like the other man, but he'd spent his entire life in the craft. Fisk understood the scope of this infestation, and what it would mean for the entirety of Fort Island. The fact that the Weyr and Hold relied so much upon the fisher craft was both a boon and a curse it seemed.

Passing along Phenust's order to the nearest dragonrider, Fisk started back for the next barrel.

Universal Events / [ 23.3.2591 ] Infestation
« on: March 24, 2018, 02:39:21 PM »

23.3.2591 // 6:10 am

After an otherwise calm first half of the month, the hits start rolling in again when the Fishers make a disastrous discovery early in the morning. The Hall had been making strides in stockpiling some cured fish, salted and preserved in barrels to keep the meat usable longer as the catches in the Cove begin to dry up. Before the latest stores could be moved into the depth of the Weyr’s preserving caverns, they are compromised by an insectoid threat.

Sandscabs are a notorious pest on Fort Island; while they couldn’t survive on the milder beaches of the Northern Continent, they were previously common around the coasts of Ista and the southern settlements. None had been particularly upset about them apparently going extinct during the Pass—but as with many things, they’ve carved out a place for themselves in what does remain of Pern. Small as fleas but numerous in number, they infest—and nest—in decaying organic matter on the edges of the sea, laying thousands of eggs that, in turn, hatch into thousands of larva and render meat and vegetation alike unusable.

It’s a disappointing revelation, once the Fishers realize that turns of use and damage to the barrels have allowed sandscabs inside. So it’s going to be a rough morning, as they and the riders of Beach Wing have to empty the barrels further down the beach—away from where fishing is being conducted for the day—and burn it all in hopes of eradicating the problem. No doubt, spare Candidates doing chores will be pulled into the work too, and some of Prairie may forego their morning drills to aid in the effort as well.

IC Thread

Fisk || Ysveta || Mauddra

Checked In
Oarlen || Vickmarra || K'zaya || Nycolus || Tayvelle || Sokon || Wa'by || Nalata || T'vye || W'thir || X'kis || D'mir || H'riel || Berlya
Eimerra, Tolanna, Rinneir
Fisk || Ysveta || Inanna || M'dak || Mauddra || Allevaithe
J'ken || T'veck
K'mar || Callista || M'kale || Z'tai || Aldrekayn || Phaedralena || N'iko || Kharismene
V'len || Calladren || Araena || Kaladesi || U'thar || Kyohei
Droissa || Nieve || Penderton || C'dus || Saviavi || Nealros || Bekareni || F'erro || T'rel || R'ael

Standard event participation practice applies. Post in the event thread or here giving us a sentence or two as to what your character might be doing at this time. If you miss 5 events in a row, your account will be deemed inactive. If you are posting elsewhere but skipping the events, remember : we do not require IC participation. Simply post here under your Player account and let us know what's going on with your character.


Phenust had just arrived at the Fisher Hall from breakfast when a breathless, anxious-looking apprentice ran up to him out of the small building that housed the Crafters’ supplies. Despite the heavy tan on the youth’s face, they were pale beneath the effects of the tropical sun, dark eyes wide in their face. “M-master Phenust—”

The lack of shouts or screams on the beach made it clear there was no attack. If there had been, no doubt the riders would have been swarming around the water like angry bees, fighting the snakes or the sharpfish or whatever other threat had made itself known. But everything seemed calm, even ordinary despite the harried apprentice and the few other worried faces Phenust could see peering out from what little constituted their Hall. “Show me,” he growled then, voice grave. Whatever had gone wrong, he’d be able to take better stock of the situation himself rather than trying to extract information out of a nervous apprentice.

They led him into the small building, the faint winds around the Cove tugging at their hair and clothes. It all smelled of salt and fish, a familiar odor made all the more pungent by the heat of the day. With the sun sparkling on the cerulean water beyond, it seemed as though anything unfortunate had no business happening on a day like today.

But the stink that awaited Phenust inside the shack was not a normal one. Covering his mouth and nose with his hand, he stepped into the shadowed place, which was stuffy and hot despite the shade it did offer. A grouping of apprentices and journeymen had gathered around the barrels they used to preserve some portion of their catches, but they were silent as the Master Fisherman approached, wood creaking under his boots.

Quiet as it was, he could hear the buzzing well before he reached the barrels that they’d cracked open.

What had previously been a wealth of salted, preserved fish was now reduced to trash, the meat bearing the telltale ‘scabs’ of eggs and wriggling larvae that had been laid in the flesh. Some of them were already maturing, the small flies buzzing in waves of tiny clouds when they were disturbed, such as when he drew closer. Phenust could even feel some of them bumping into his arms as he peered into the closest barrel.

Even in the dim light, he could see that others had been opened and were in a similar state.

“Get them out of here,” he instructed, anger and disappointment apparent in his voice. “Get the riders to help you. They need to be dragged down the beach and burned. Anything that’s been ruined. If there’s any barrels you haven’t opened already, move them away and open them one at a time. See if there’s anything you can save.”

He wasn’t confident their would be.

Spoiler for OOC:
Who doesn’t like some bugs? 8D They’re just hungry too. As ever, you can check into this event in the OOC thread if you don’t want to or cannot post.

OOC Hang Out / Re: Flight Rising
« on: March 22, 2018, 09:52:58 PM »
I just had some clutches hatch today, and I wanted to offer them to all of you for freesies if they're wanted. Otherwise I'll end up training and exalting them, but I'd prefer them to go to good homes. ^_^ You can click on any of them to view them on Flight Rising.

Spoiler for Some Dergums:

Weyr Bowl / Re: The Moment of Truth [ 37.10.2590 / 4pm ] Event
« on: March 21, 2018, 10:18:47 PM »
It wasn't like H'riel had failed to get acquainted with his fellow classmates, but he'd not exactly clicked with many of them, and certainly not the way he'd clicked with Nishi. She understood him, and he enjoyed her company. She made him a better person and was an infallible safety net. Her dedication to her own training and constant push for bettering herself helped a lot, and there was a mutual determination there that made it easy to stick around wherever she went.

So while he listened to the other placements, trying to match the names to the faces as they moved forwards but not really caring much beyond those who were assigned to Beach or Jungle, few and far between though they were. Beach riders were to be his new wingmates... And there was a sense of importance to trying to know who they were by name at the very least. But it was difficult to care beyond those few people he had become acquainted with over the turns as a weyrling.

There was going to be an adjustment period to be sure. A new weyr... A new group of people to associate with... He knew Nishi wanted to get into Jungle, and his own aspirations had him hoping, as much as he could, that he'd get there as well, but with his Beach placement, there was a small part of him that wanted Nishi there just so he had some semblance of consistency. A bridge between the lifestyle he was about to leave and the one he was going to begin.

If Xasheyth's bonded is in Jungle, we will simply work to join her there. the brown interrupted H'riel's thoughts, his tone as stoic as ever, offering reassurance in the confidence it instilled. The uncertainty remained, however, and H'riel found himself staring intently as Nishi as he finally heard her name called.

The pause lasted an age, but H'riel didn't mind. He'd wait as long as he needed to hear what Wúm would say next. When it was Beach, and not Jungle, H'riel was surprised and... Disappointed? It was an interesting feeling. He understood that it meant she needed to improve, that she wasn't quite ready to enter Jungle Wing in much the same way he was, but it was... Odd. She was so certain of it herself, that he had been certain of it too.

Her face when she registered the announcements brushed aside that feeling almost instantly, his own smile, reserved, but no less happy spreading across his face at her excitement. She moved into place just a little way down the line, and he found himself wanting to step out of line to join her. TO know she was actually there with him. He would not, of course. That would be disrespectful to the ceremony they were a part of, but that didn't quite ease the itch to do so.

He didn't quite know what to do with himself when W'um dismissed them, turning to his neighbour a little hesitantly and offering a hand. A congratulatory handshake was appropriate? With his weyrling who would join him in the first of his wing duties now they were done.

A nudge in his mind was the only warning he had before he was being embraced, his own arms wrapping around Nishi with an extra squeeze as his own excitement was finally allowed to rear its head. "We still have a way to go, don't we?" He chuckled, his smile less retrained now the official part was over. "Do we meet our wingmates now?" The turns end celebrations would be starting soon, and he figured it would be a good time to learn the names of his peers, if nothing else... But there was also his new weyr to consider, and should he go thank Beach's wingleader for selecting him to join their ranks? Was that something they needed to do. Should that be done first?

One step at a time, H'riel. the brown rumbled, no scold or comfort to his tone, just a matter of factness that immediately reassured the new rider.

"Do we meet our wingmates now?"

Spoiler for OOC:
@RaynePOTM for you if you wanna respond. But it's not necessary. I'll probably be popping H'riel into the turns end celebrations now :D But by Now I mean later. More posts to do first!

T'veck of Baleth was much a much more comfortable name to remember, and while there was no doubt Wa'by would continue to refer to them by the nicknames he'd picked, it was no hard task to simply keep both names in his head for future reference. He'd nodded to the thank you, but didn't deign to say anything further when he mounted Thianorth.

He rushed it. the dragon said to D'mir as Baleth met them in the air, a smug condescension to his tone. He'd beat him and the other dragon had attempted to win. The fact he'd slowed down after only a brief rush wasn't mentioned, but considering Thianorth had goaded the younger dragon D'mir didn't pass it on.

The position switch went well, Thianorth ready to roll out of the way if T'veck and Baleth misjudged the distance. But he did well, wingtips almost touching, and the whole exchange over within a reasonable time. Until they decided to add a barrel roll to the drill.

Know your limitations and do not take unnecessary risks. If you need to do something out of the ordinary, communicate. Thianorth scolded the instant the black dragon was back in position. If they'd been fooling around, playing or competing against one another it wouldn't have been bad, and a barrel roll was a common manouver, minimising the chance of being hit by thread or another dragon by reducing your size for the roll. It also came with it's own shorthand for communication between wingmates, so that everyone knew what you were about to do and with it's own set of responses that were ingrained in their years undergoing daily drills. The fact the black had decided to show off in such a way, without even warning his drill partner was unacceptable, regardless of how perfectly it may have been executed.

D'mir was feeding his own scolding through his dragon, making a note to speak directly to the rider himself when they were finished with their duties to get a better grasp on his relationship with his bonded, perhaps even speak to Wa'by as well to see what could be done to assist. They didn't need another out of control dragon killing four herdbeast in the midst of flight lust because their rider wasn't strong minded enough to curb the urge. His own voice to Thianorth was firm, and the dragon mimicked this almost patient correction well, even if he was feeling a little smug at scolding the uppity weyrling.

Thread may not be falling, but acting out can result in injuries to yourself, or your wingmates. A pause, as D'mir added an instruction - there was no point spending the entire time scolding the pair. They were still training. We'll do a covering sweep now. We will not be using firestone, but you should know how your flame works. I will go first, than you to repeat.

They would wait until the other pair announced they were ready before giving a directional command. Cluster directly above, straight drop. Thianorth would say before tucking his wings tightly to his sides and freefalling for a moment. Baleth would need to wing around to flame the offending cluster, giving Thianorth the all clear once it was done for him to return to his position above. It was up to them what they would do once they were done, and when they would announce the manouver. It was a nice communication test, as well as ensuring their knowledge of the evasion procedures lined up with their actioning of them. It would improve their relationship with wingmates, and give them the opportunity to learn little habits that other wingmates may have. Eventually, your wing would develop their own nuances, but for the duration of their weyrling training, the weyr would focus on the formal drills. Essentially focussing on the fundamentals.

Spoiler for OOC:
@Jarakrisafis I'm pulling crap out of my butt so feel free to take whatever liberties you want. Hit me up in a PM or discord if you want me to clarify anything.

Mine Hall / Re: Fruits of the Earth [ 32.01.2591; 6:10 PM ] || Event
« on: March 20, 2018, 11:38:59 PM »
"Nope." Kenna said cheerfully as she lifted a leg to slip onto the bench beside him. "Kenna, 'prentice still, but I'm mostly sticking with the scouts for now." She'd had a couple of lessons with him before, but evidently she hadn't made that much of an impression. They even lived in the same cave system, apprentices being all shoved together as they were, but in all honesty, Kenna didn't remember his name either.

Chomping down on her dinner, she chewed with a happy grin on her face which she couldn't seem to wipe. Things were certainly looking up weren't they? Even though Kenna was the one who scouted the caves before everything came up, she'd be an apprentice for long enough to know all of the potential uses for the ore they had found.

Throwing food into the air, where it disappeared into the darkness with a flap of brown wings, Kenna grinned at the chirp which echoed down to her. Rell was certainly a weird one, but she loved him just the same. Kensk had now decided to wander his way over as well, dragging a scrapped leg which the kitchens had obviously gifted him.

"You've certainly got a hoarde here." She said with a cocked grin, nodding at the various fire lizards draped around his body. Kensk for his own duty, had appraised the fellow's whers and deemed them meh, unsurprisingly.


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