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Author Topic: Event Strike from Below [ 18.7.2587; 9 AM ] || Event  (Read 129 times)

Offline NPC Account

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Strike from Below [ 18.7.2587; 9 AM ] || Event
« on: October 25, 2018, 05:33:21 PM »
Despite all that had happened, a tentative atmosphere of optimism had settled over Southern Winds.  So fresh and newly established on the island, there seemed a veneer of paradise over it all. With plentiful wherry in the jungle, a wealth of fish in the Cove, and far more green, living things than almost anyone in living memory had ever seen… it was hard not to hope that the future could be better than the past. Even the recent hatching of a peculiarly dark dragon—the jury was still out, it seemed, on whether Neisoth was a new color or just a particularly deeply-colored Bronze—had little bearing on what seemed to be an inviting new way of life.

Hard work still lay ahead, but the spirit of the Pernese people had risen to greater heights than it had in a long, long time. It was so different to work toward something that seemed real and achievable, rather than being worn down by the constant struggle just to survive for what, to some, no doubt seemed like no reason.

So a large number of Weyrfolk, Holders, Crafters, and Riders alike had gathered on the beach to aid the Fishers with whatever they needed. It wasn’t practical to carry that many people into the jungle to hunt—not when dragons could do so faster and more easily—but fishing? That was something almost anyone could do, even if it was just hauling buckets of the things to those skilled enough with a knife to gut them.

It was even sunny, the heat of the summer cut with some clouds across the sky and a pleasant breeze. A deceptively beautiful day filled with good spirits and hope and chatter.

At least, until some dark shape surged up out of the water at one side of the beach, shedding a flurry of wet sand as something lunged forward and fastened its teeth around the nearest person’s leg—dragging them under and into the swirling, clouded water. It happened fast enough that the first victim didn’t have time to scream until they were already under water, when it did more harm than good.

Fast enough, maybe, that more would be caught off guard as confusion and panic and chaos impeded the effort to understand what was going on… for far more than one of the creatures had been drawn by the activity at the water’s edge with the intention to feed.

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« Last Edit: October 25, 2018, 05:33:47 PM by SirAlahn »
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Offline R'ael

Re: Strike from Below [ 18.7.2587; 9 AM ] || Event
« Reply #1 on: October 25, 2018, 07:50:38 PM »
Beach Wing was a station that she did not resent one bit. The island was a welcome change from the cold landscape at Fort and the coast offered everything that her old home had not. The sands were sprawling, lovely and warm, and the ocean stretched for as far as she could see. Nothing felt confining here, and everything seemed possible.

The morning was beautiful. Uramaeth hadn’t been so cheerful in a long time and his focus shifted readily from task to task. While grounded, he fanned his wings out as much as possible so that he might also soak up the sun’s shine while dragging nets. His wings also offered a brief reprieve to those more sun-sensitive, and he was amused to find a few children dashing around his shadow presently. He minced his steps, mindful of them as he backed up along the beach with his net in tow.

Truly, this place was paradise. It felt too good to be true, after all they’d gone through.

Enjoy it, the Brown’s commentary broke R’ael’s thoughts. The work is physical and long but this environment.. I don’t think I ever knew real plants. These untamed spoils, nothing artificially farmed or coaxed into existence. He lifted his head and inhaled deeply, treasuring the scent of life.

R’ael smirked at his words. He’d certainly learned to say pretty things over the years, probably the result of too many chases. She didn’t deign to respond but flicked some fish scales his way. They landed short, but he got the message.

This had become their routine in the short time they’ve been at the island. And so it would have continued, had an abrupt turn of events not unraveled so quickly.

R’ael only saw a brief flurry of activity- water and sand and nothing else. Those closer reacted with panic and so she turned to Uramaeth to see if he’d seen what happened.

No, I don’t know. He crouched on the sand and a few children hugged close to his sides. R’ael left her post but kept a grip on her descaling knife. “Head back to the weyr,” she shouted toward them, figuring getting them out of the way might at least ease the process of figuring out what was going on.

More people were shouting and it seemed that their general intention was to get away from the water. R’ael shook her head and looked up, scanning the skies. There were some clouds but nothing ominous there, what was the issue?

Offline Karowen

Re: Strike from Below [ 18.7.2587; 9 AM ] || Event
« Reply #2 on: October 26, 2018, 05:19:41 AM »
There was something soothing about gutting fish, apart from the smell of course, and Karowen had gotten into a rhythm, humming one of the teaching ballads as she worked. Pick up a sometimes still wriggling fish from one bucket, slit the belly, empty out the guts and throw the fish into the next bucket where some of the children too young to be trusted with knives had been set to just washing the last bits out.

They were also too young to find it disgusting, and there were several sporting fish scales and other parts in their hair and clothing. They'd all be needing a good bath tonight, maybe once they were done with the fish they could all go have a dip in the sea too.

Commotion from up the beach made her glance up, the song the children were singing trailing off as people surged around whatever had happened. They were too far away to see what was going on and she turned to the nearest rider, knowing that their dragons could relay faster than a human.

“What's going on?”

Offline Z'nel

Re: Strike from Below [ 18.7.2587; 9 AM ] || Event
« Reply #3 on: October 26, 2018, 05:37:23 AM »
I did not know humans could be so loud.

Z'nel laughed as they soared down the length of the beach, trying to find a clear space to land. They'd just been visiting Izarinar and her daughter was unfortunately starting teething. Her ears were still ringing from the rather strident protest at the pain that her daughter had been giving to any within range of the creche. Her mother had been working there and had gleefully handed her granddaughter over and told Z'nel to go take her away for a few hours so they could have some peace.

Allieth had not been so amused when the crying had continued unabated and Z'nel had heaved a sigh of relief herself as she handed her back with the excuse that they'd been called in to help with the fishing.

There, next to Uramaeth Z'nel said as she spotted a clear bit of sand, Allieth obligingly turned, neatly landing beside her wingmate in the clear space that had formed beside the brown all of a sudden.

Something has happened. Allieth said as she rose up on her back legs, wings flaring back out as she stretched out to look over Uramaeths back and up the beach.

Z'nel frowned, seeing nothing but milling people before Allieth returned her forequarters to the sand. “R'ael. What's going on?” She yelled down as the brownrider ordered the children back to the weyr.



Allieth is 20.2M Long, 3.8M Tall and has a 32M Wingspan.

Offline Qirelai

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Re: Strike from Below [ 18.7.2587; 9 AM ] || Event
« Reply #4 on: November 18, 2018, 01:25:10 AM »
Perrikoth was idly wheeling further out in the bay, the claws of his hind legs idly trailing in the water and he and Qirelai scanned for a school of fish that they may be able to catch off guard and scoop up in the net the fisher's had attached this morning.

It perhaps wasn't the most effective way. The fish seemed to have learnt a bit over the last few months, and Perrikoth's shadow on the water alerted them to potential danger from above. But Beach wing and the fisher craft had only been operating together for a few months now, and surely over time they would learn some new techniques to be even a little more efficient. At the moment they were operating a few different things. Fishers set out nets that the dragonrider's collected, or dragonriders set them out with a fisher escort, which got the process done in a much shorter amount of time. All in all. The cooperation between Weyr and Hall was not going badly at all.

A cry from the beach caught Qirelai's attention before Perrikoth turned his attention in the same direction.

That's some commotion. He seemed to comment idly, although even now he was wheeling back to sure, his attention sharp on the beach.

"Maybe someone chopped off their hand again or something." Qire replied dryly. With Weyrfolk, Holders and Riders being helpful, but for all intents and purposes inexperienced with fisher duties, there had been more than one accident with the slippery fisher's knives. The losing a hand completely part was perhaps a slight exaggeration, but Perrikoth got the idea anyways and seemed to disagree.

Perrikoth brought up short, hovering just over a milling group of fellow riders and Qirelai strained her ears to listen to the conversation.

 

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