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Author Topic: Closed Event This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]  (Read 1118 times)

Offline S'bok

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This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« on: June 04, 2016, 09:28:19 PM »
He learned that evening, that of all the things he felt himself above now; petty fighting, stooping to childish sneering name-calling of some unnamed Bronzers, stealing (all things he did his best to avoid if only to be polite).... blackmail, was not one of those things. And maybe they could write it off as emotional blackmail as opposed to the kind that left someone out their best shirt or the last sweetroll but he'd sleep through the night reminding himself it was for a much more worthy cause.

S'bok supposed there was a reason Neisoth wasn't a Bronze.

The Black in question hummed his approval of the sentiment and his agreement, and in the logical, ever straigt-forward thinking of dragons, reminded his rider that such a fate would never come to be. As always S'bok found himself comforted by the idea. They might fly a Queen, but they would never be a Bronze pair, softer in their ways and waiting on the edges for the next order.

Someone else (anyone else with an extra year or two) might point out that such prideful opinions were the delusions of a child. They'd likely earn a fist to the jaw and a reminder that young he might be, but he was still the Weyrleader. Quietly, the former someone would be proven right in that instant. But S'bok had a plan and he wasn't about to see all their hard work go to waste because people were scared.

So when the call went out that evening for a third hunt, passed from dragon to rider and rider to dragon, the implication was very clear. Staying behind was cowardice. Pure and simple. The Weyr had needs, needs that could not be met without the continued perseverance of every single wing. Every single rider who had the wherewithal to stand up against Thread and Hunters alike. They were struggling to ensure the survival of their way of life, and S'bok would not stand by and watch idly as the terror of Crafters and Holders brought the Weyr to a halt.

The young man would be the first to admit that once upon a time, there had been no love lost between himself and the very idea of a dragon rider. But he would also be the first to admit that having a dragon in one's life changed that opinion on such a fundamental level that he could no more turn his back on the Weyr now than he could cut off his own arm. Dragons needed one another. The Weyr needed every rider. And he'd be damned if he stood there and let it all slip away because they were too busy fretting over the idea that there was something bigger and scarier than them out there.

They needed to fight. This was something S'bok could do. This, finally, was something he could give back.

//Tell the volunteers to collect in the Bowl. They have a quarter mark. Injuries are excused. Fear of your mate, Halirina, or hunters is not.//

Neisoth snorted. Perhaps he, more so than any other dragon had true reason to fear Kalestath's ire, and yet, this was something S'bok believed so strongly in that the Black felt nothing for the situation but total agreement. Every past hunt had been, to put it colloquially, a win.

A win was what they needed now. And they would get it, if the damned Weyr got off its ass to actually do something about its state.

Spoiler for Hidden:
Yet another Secret Hunt! But this time the Weyrleader expects attendance. Keep in mind that because this is not technically a fully sanctioned hunt by the entirety of the Weyrleadership, you cannot get in trouble for choosing not to participate. You simply run the risk of the Weyrleader thinking you're a coward. OOC Thread can be found HERE.
« Last Edit: September 07, 2018, 09:48:21 PM by SirAlahn »

Offline Y'tol

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #1 on: June 05, 2016, 01:15:50 AM »
Y’tol looked up from his cup of klah, feeling the ripple of tension pass through the other late diners, most having finished their meal a quarter mark ago, but hanging around the meal tables until they got bored with the company they had had at dinner time.

Neisoth has called a hunt. Y’tol noticed the glazed eyes of other riders as they were obviously informed by their own dragons of the upcoming hunt. A grin spread across the bronze riders face. Perfect. Exactly the sort of activity to enliven his evening.

Stop grinning and get out here. We’ve only got a quarter mark.

Y’tol stood rapidly from his seat, casting a look around at the other remaining riders wondering what choice they would make, S’bok had made his decision, and Y’tol wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to go hunting. He didn’t stay around for long wondering, they would do what they had to do.

A quick jog took him into the Weyrbowl just as Bayorth settled in front of him, a leap onto the bronze’s back took them up to his Weyr and he rushed to throw his riding leathers on, unable to rid himself of his anxious expectation for the hunt.

Bayorth bristled in anticipation as well, the bronze ignoring his dislike of receiving orders from the black dragon with the idea that he will get to do a little bit of hunting. 

When they alighted in the bowl, amongst the group of fellow volunteers Y’tol nodded towards where the Weyrleader stood. As long as S’bok was going to go hunting, Y’tol would forgive him his inexperience.

Spoiler for OOC:
Anyone who wants to have been at the same table as Y'tol, jump in, talk to him at the meeting, talk to him as they leave the hall, all of the above is fine with me.
                
Length 37.1m ~ Height 7.42m ~ Wingspan 61.5m

Offline R'sin

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #2 on: June 05, 2016, 06:52:01 AM »
R’sin would never, ever admit it out loud but he had begun to eagerly wait for and anticipate when they next hunt would be ordered by S’bok. He knew it wasn’t a knock on his own wing, nothing to say they weren’t pulling their own weight or living up to the expectations the leaders had of them. But hunting with the Weyr’s full force of dragons was always going to bring in a larger amount of food. R’sin’s eagerness came from the fact that he was allowed—if that could even be the right word for it, given S’bok never told Halirina before these hunts went down what he was planning—to participate.

If anyone had cause to be angry after the fiasco at the Mine Hall, it was R’sin. It had felt like he’d been the only one to speak out against volunteer sign up from the Craft Halls, though really he’d just been one of the more vocal. It was his wing that had lost riders and dragons alike to the Hunters and his wing that had to go back out into the jungle day after day and face those beasts again.

So when Neisoth sent his message out, R’sin had Dekkath echo the order to his own Wing, ensuring that any Jungle rider physically fit would know they better get their ass here immediately.

Dekkath landed near Neisoth, far  enough away to give deference to the Weyrleader but close enough to assert R’sin’s rank and position as the Jungle Wingleader and one of the riders with the most experience in the jungle hunting.

“S’bok.” R’sin greeted shortly. He ignored Neisoth as usual, as if ignoring him would make him and that ugly black hide go away.

A good evening for a hunt. The bronze rumbled a greeting to Neisoth. He remembered the young dragon’s skill in their previous hunts.

R’sin was pleased to see some of his Wingriders already here. He’d split them up again as in the previous hunt so that each group would have a smattering of experienced Jungle riders with them helping to teach and direct them for the hunt.

Offline T'kyll

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #3 on: June 05, 2016, 10:23:35 AM »
He heard about the call for volunteers. He was looking around the beach and glad that he had come out today. He heard how much time they had as well. He got up off his duff and headed in. They would have to be quick if they wanted in on this.

They arrived at the weyrbowl to see how many would be going. He was anxious to prove himself out there. He wanted to be among the greats and not just great among the ladies. He was nervous, but that wouldn't stop him. T'kyll wanted in on the action wanted to hunt. He thought he was aptly named considering what they were going out to do.

Offline T'nax

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #4 on: June 05, 2016, 12:10:45 PM »
It was a quiet evening in the Weyrling Barracks. The weyrlings were milling about and doing their evening chores: sweeping, oiling the growing dragons, folding their clothes, so and so forth. The old rider was about to nod off, arms folded across his chest, in his chair, when his lifelong friend murmured in his head, his voice warm and husky, though sounding slow and downtrodden. Neisoth calls the Weyr for a hunt. The whole Weyr. He says to not fly is to be a coward.

T'nax's eyes slowly peeled open. Xenrith, though he was just a messenger, was right. To not fly is to show cowardice and, after his lifelong fight with Thread, T'nax was no coward. He, slowly, rose to his feet, with several grunts and groans, snatched up his cane, and, as fast as he could hobble, marched out of the barracks. He did not tell the young ones where he was off to, but that he'd be back and they were to carry out their chores.

The rich chocolaty hide of Xenrith looked as black as Neisoth's in the night light, though his underbelly and wings betrayed his brown coloring, their light mahogany glowing in the fading light. T'nax was already in leathers, he was rarely out of them actually, but he fumbled about, single-handedly, to button the wherhide against the night air. He smiled to himself; he hadn't been out for a hunt in a long while. With a cup of klah laced with nettle sap in his gut, the constant pain of his crippled leg faded. Tonight would be a good night.

He clambered up Xenrith's offered foreleg, strapped his cane into the special carrier on his riding straps, and looked about. He could see the young Weyrleader managing the gathering riders and smiled. The young man was turning in to quite the leader, in the old man's opinion, and he was proving it by forcing the Weyr out from behind the scared skirts of the Crafters and Holders. T'nax saluted the man, not certain if the Weyrleader would even see him, and waited patiently for their orders.

Offline T'lor

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #5 on: June 05, 2016, 12:21:21 PM »
A hunt! Neisoth calls for a hunt! Olaryth called out in T'lor's mind. She loved to hunt. It used her speed and agility to the best of their abilities and she loved toying with the wherries that launched, squawking and startled, into the air above the tree canopies and, inevitably, into the claws, maws, and grasps of other dragons.

T'lor smiled to himself. //It's about sharding time,// the greenrider responded. //It'll be good for the Weyr to get out and actually do something.// The bright green hummed in agreement from her weyr. The two of them were spending the evening quietly in T'lor and Isotarïne's shared weyr. T'lor had been drafting up some plans to be forgotten on a shelf somewhere, as was his wont, and Olaryth had been eyeing the small arrangement of flowers that had been gathered for her from the Weyrbowl by T'lor and Rïne's youngest son, Terric. He knew that the lovely green adored flowers and would bring her fresh ones every couple of days.

T'lor rose quickly from his desk and threw on his riding leathers and strapped down the riding straps on his partner. He didn't know where Rïne was at the moment, he assumed that she was with the weyrlings, but T'lor had Olaryth relay his message of love to her through Hiraeth. Quickly, he mounted the large green and the two glided down to the weyrbowl below. He found some fellow Beach wingriders and fell into formation with them. Olaryth all but hummed with her excitement about the hunt.

T'lor looked about and quietly wondered how the Weyrwoman did not know about such endeavors. Clearly, one would notice if this many riders disappeared from the Weyr at once. He shook his head, dismayed, but thought nothing else about it. It was not his responsibility to keep the peace between the Weyrleader and the Senior Weyrwoman.
« Last Edit: June 05, 2016, 12:25:40 PM by T'lor »

Offline Sheklelu

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #6 on: June 05, 2016, 12:33:01 PM »
They are calling for volunteers for a hunt. Something about being a coward if you don't fly it?  Wow I bet they will have plenty of male riders out there.
Then we can surprise them. We are going. No reason for us to stick around here nothing going on with Prairie that can't wait. She thought and got ready quickly. She could feel the eagerness and happiness coming from her dragon. It made her smile.

She noted once they were in the weyrbowl just who was there. She didn't see any other blues though. It surprised her none of them had answered yet. It made her wonder if she was crazy to be doing thing. Then again crazy was normal for her lately. Why not? If not her then who?

She was waiting for her orders just like anyone else. Would they turn her away? She hoped not. Klendath was eager and chomping at the bit as much as she was. I just hope we don't end up with some horrible task.

Offline Unavin

Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #7 on: June 06, 2016, 08:35:38 PM »
The evening had been like any other for the green rider. She sat at the table, her cup of klah in hand as she peered over at her older brother. It was not uncommon for the woman to sit in silence with her brother or any other member of her family or wing. She was not the most overly social female out there; she wasn’t known for being cold hearted for no reason. 

Neisoth calls for a hunt. We meet in a quarter mark

Unavin’s head snapped up and she caught the smile on her brother’s face, her own predatory look filling her eyes and turning her own lips up in a Cheshire grin.
Her dark chocolate eyes took in her brother’s casual attire and she snickered at him ”Slacker your going to be late” she teased him and downed her Klah before getting from the table and leaving the Weyr hall. Her movements were agile, graceful, and lean like a feline as she followed after her brother. Her long hair was braided over her shoulder.  While she had her rider leathers on over her pants and her rider vest was attached the riggings on her dragon. It was a ritual she did every morning and did not remove them until she was crawling into bed every evening.

One never knew when a rider was needed.

She stepped out onto the bowl to see her brother’s large bronze land before him and snickered again, she was going to be there first. When she reached the gathering she walked over to the dark, almost black green who had settled near Dekkath and who had her elegant head turned towards Neisoth and his young rider. Unavin scratched her eye ridge and turned to R’sin, bowing her head at him ”Sir” she greeted him with stoic seriousness.

When her brother landed not too far from him she smiled at him ”Always last to the party huh?” she teased.
Are you ready for this?” she said to Bayorth as she all but vibrated with excitement. She loved to hunt, it was what her lean, lithe body was perfect for.
« Last Edit: June 06, 2016, 08:41:47 PM by Unavin »

Offline Yestine

Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #8 on: June 06, 2016, 09:06:21 PM »
The day had gone by like any other. The same routine for the Jungle Wing rider. While it felt weird with their ranks still depleted by those to wounded to join, it was good to drill hard and work out all the anxiety that the hunter attack had still left in her (and of course the sour response from a good majority of the holders/crafters).

When the day had been finished and the sun had fallen below the sea line, taking it’s light with it, she had found herself in her Weyr. She itched to clear her mind of her frustration and she stepped from her riders leathers and under clothing and readied herself to head to the baths she contemplated seeing if the twins wanted a little female enjoyment that evening. But that would not the case either.

Just as she cleared her body of her clothing a voice entered her mind
Get dressed, we are being summoned for a hunt
//Oh goodie// she said back to her dragon and pulled her clothing and leathers back on in a hast. She thrummed with just as much excitement as her dragon and raced to her as she already readied herself to launch from their Weyr. Yaya gripped a strap in her riggings just as the vibrant green dove head first of the ledge, the momentum pulling her onto her back.

When they reached the bowl floor Yaya dismounted near other Jungle riders. She bowed her head to R’sin in greeting to the Weyrleader and leaned against Tanilith as she settled onto the grass awaiting for everyone to gather.
I will be glad to hunt
//I agree… One can never hunt to much// she said to only her dragon and grinned.

She dipped her head at a few of the other green riders in jungle, as well as others she knew in the Jungle wing and turned back to inspect her nails as if there might actually be dirt underneath them. 
« Last Edit: June 06, 2016, 09:49:38 PM by Yestine »

Offline Simia

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #9 on: June 06, 2016, 09:41:07 PM »
Ready your bow, Mine. Neisoth calls for a hunt

Simia groaned as she pulled the young woman from between her legs and kissed her lips ”I must leave beautiful but you may stay until your duties call you in the morning” she said and slipped from the bed, leaving the beautiful blond candidate in her bedfurs.
//oh this will be fun, although I do hate leaving such a beautiful female in my bed// she pandered to her dragon as she cleaned herself and pulled on her riding gear.
Obith snorted his amusement and spoke again You only have a quarter mark… perhaps she will stay until you return
//perhaps// she said thinking of the treatment she could use after a hunt; her muscles could use the relaxing afterwards. 

She readied her bow and arrows before walking out to the ledge and crawling atop Obith. The blue stretched out his wings and took flight, gliding down to the Weyr bowl where others were already gathering. When Obith landed Sims dismounted with grace and ease and looked about. She paid respect to those higher ranked than herself that she could see and nodded her head in greeting to those riders she knew.

She lounged on Obith’s forearm and leaned against his neck, waiting for the order to rise for the hunt was giving.

Offline M'dak

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #10 on: June 14, 2016, 08:34:05 PM »
The crafter caverns were humming softly with life, most of the crafters having packed up from their offices and workrooms and heading to meet family and friends for the end of the day catchup. He was comforted by the sound, there were not many people in the caves to hinder his progress, but he could hear them, he could feel them around him.

A hunt has been called. The brown seemed to pause for a moment as he heard the rest of the instructions. You're about to be late, be quick.

M'dak paused mid-step as Dallarth started communicating with him, quickly spinning on his heel and trotting in the other direction. Ilse would understand, he was not going to be late. The nature of the call to hunt was that the instructions passed from dragon to rider to dragon again, meaning that beach riders such as himself, were probably last on the list to be asked to attend. Not that they didn't want everyone, but a young, quiet, beach rider would probably slip the minds of the first to get the call. He tried to think of anyone that Dallarth should pass the message onto.

How long do I have?

Neisoth said a quarter mark.

Which probably means that I'm out of time. Luckily I was already in my leathers, huh? He broke into a faster jog, whilst he didn't particularly enjoy the violence of a hunt, it was necessary. They needed food. They should not hide away in the Weyr. Regardless of what he thought, S'bok was Weyrleader, if he called for riders, M'dak would show, his duty to the Weyr came above anything else.

He burst from the Weyr and spotted them not far into the bowl he waved aside Dallarth as the brown hovered to pick him up. It'll be quicker to run, they're not far. Trying not to draw too much attention he slipped into the back of the group, if S'bok noticed him, he would receive a nod of support, not that the Weyrleader would need it from him.

Length 35m ~ Height 7m ~ Wingspan 58.1m

Offline A'tas

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Re: This isn't Blackmail, This is War [19.03.2590; 8:00pm]
« Reply #11 on: June 23, 2016, 08:43:02 PM »
"Neisoth is calling for us.  He says we're supposed to meet in the Bowl and ready to hunt in a quarter mark.  What do we do?"  A'tas had been tying up the fletches of a new arrow when the Blue's voice sounded in his head. 

Now that was unexpected.  The Weyrwoman had forbidden all forays into the jungle unless they had been authorized by her, yet S'bok was openly defying her?  That was the sort of thing even he would have though twice about and then decided against!  However, he knew one thing: the whole of the Weyr was afraid, and they needed to to shake that.  And if it meant defying that edict, then it was worth it.

//"What do you think?  We ride.//  As he made his decision known to his dragon, Athritas rose to his feet and slipped his riding jacket back on before reaching for his long bowstave.  He knew that was one of the most powerful in the Weyr, and that most wouldn't even come close to being able to fully draw it.  And it was almost effortlessly that he bent it and fitted the string to the horn nock before fitting Caryth with his riding straps, and climbing up. 

The flight down to the Bowl had been short and the bottom was crowded with mounted dragons, and it was as close to his fellow Prairie riders that he chose to land, and wait to know exactly what was going to happen.


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