High Mountain Weyr's Call for Aid (Dragon Hatching!)

Tidesweep

The drink relieved the grogginess Tide had been feeling and at Galatea’s words, she shook her head. “It is a simple thing to forget. Especially given all the chaos that usually surrounds a trip of…” She paused for a moment to try and take a headcount on just the candidates from Haven. “About ten odd? Does not help that it is something he does not really have to think about when traveling. Sort of like…” She paused her hand coming up to spin around as she thought of the phrase she wanted. “Turning on a porch light? If you are telling someone how to lock up the house, you might not remember it? Or maybe turning on a radio?”

She would shrug, not entirely sure of a good parallel. Tide, like always, bore no ill will to High Mountain or Thomas for forgetting to mention the time traveling issue. Given the fact that they had a drink for it, they probably dealt with it daily and didn’t even think to mention to others. It was just something they lived with. Like how Haven lived with world ending plots almost bi-monthly.

It was just a fact of life at this point.

Mildred

Mildred wasn’t worried about keeping an image, and coughed as the heat hit her throat and traveled down. Yep. Regret for picking up the bottle filled her as the fire burned inside her. As it hit her stomach, she wondered if this would be how she died. Unlike some people here, her insides were very much not flame proof. Then instant relief as the cold soothed the burns. The taste of oranges and lemons and limes filled her mouth and she grinned back at Tyurus.

“That is one way of putting it!” Laughing, she took another sip of the ale. At least she was a bit more prepared this time for the burning fire and knew that cooling relief was only moments away.

“Hoping to impress, but won’t be disappointed if I don’t. Just couldn’t stand the thought of those babies going in between from a lack of candidates. You?”

Jeremi

“I see I stand corrected. You have the perfectly right, if a bit lacking, description of baby dragons.” Jeremi couldn’t tell if Kemori was teasing or not, but considering his lover’s nature, he was willing to lean heavily towards teasing.

At Aedan’s disbelief over the events, Jeremi would be shaking his head. “Some days I wish I was kidding.” The healer would have explained a bit more about the antics the illogical field caused Haven, but it wasn’t to be it would seem. Not to be at all.

Gertude

Gertude would glance down at Anisei’s food and just give a small shake of her head. If this was simple, she would really hate to go to dinner at her place. The silver mottle rider probably wouldn’t know which fork was the soup one. ”No more odd than Haven? I’ve head that our Weyrleader has been there since...Like forever.”

She would smile at Anisei’s excitement over the prospect of a pureblood gold on the sands. And promptly shake her head at the question. ”I’m honestly not looking to impress. Rissi is more than enough for me. I’m only here cause of the slim and small chance that there is a dragon here that will be my match. It is better to try than not to try. Besides, I wasn’t about to let everyone else have an adventure and leave me behind.”

And it is our duty to be at every hatching we can be at. Even before we came to this world. Though it was for vastly different reasons.

”You have seen the eggs from the sounds of it. Tell me how many...Ow!”




Cain felt like his brain was trying to work through molasses. Slow and steady and not getting to much done. He did eventually end up sitting with Taki, but that was mainly due to the fact that he felt like he couldn’t stand up correctly anymore. When Thomas came by to apologize, he waved the man away. Not like he could really change anything. Even with the warning, Cain was smart enough to know that he would still be like this.

The joys of no stomach.

At least Taki was having the time of her life and the company was nice.

Feeling like nothing could go wrong, Cain let his eyes slip close as he leaned his head back. The joys of not having a face. He could sleep right here and now, with no one except Susan being the wiser.

Everyone

The attack was swift and caught just about everyone unawares. Tide heard Kemori shout out about intruders, one still being in the rafters. Immediately, her eyes scanned the crowd for Jason. Even as some of the guests were falling down from the attack, she was determined to find her son.

Lucky for her, Jason found her first, running to her side, the twins in tow. “Mom?”

“I am okay. You?” Tide would cup his face as Jason answered that he was fine. A fire lit in her eyes as she turned her head up towards the beams of wood. How dare they try to hurt her son. Her friends. To say she was unhappy and furious would be a mild understatement.

Gathering up everything inside her, Tide did something she hadn’t done since Blackthorn. Since she had tried to save Aarghaumont. She would open up her mouth and sing. It was the song that would make anyone who was an enemey to her and within listening distance experience a fear that felt like there was no escaping from.

At least till they were out of hearing range anyway.

Mildred, for her part, hadn’t seen the attack itself. But it was hard to miss the windows breaking and Kemori going into battle mode. And then there was the fact that Jeremi was sprinting to Viceran, the nearest of the fallen to the healer.

“I’ll go after the ones out the window!” Not waiting to see if Tyurus would join her or not, she sat her glass down on the table and ran towards a window. Weaving in and out of guests, she calculated her jump and at just the right moment...Took to the air. Arms came up to cover her face as she sailed through the hole the attackers had created.

Landing with about as much grace as a newborn duckling, she rolled and came up, eyes scanning the area for any sign of the intruders. Rather that be tracks they left behind or actually seeing them running away from the manor.

She heard a crash coming from the front, but considering a dragon’s roar accompanied the entrance, she was sure it was a safe bet that wasn’t the way she needed to go. Fairly sure anyway.

Jeremi meanwhile was doing what he could to stabilize Viceran. Without knowing what exactly the guard and others were poisoned with, he couldn’t do much other than try to help the breathing come a little easier. And he just so happened to miss his cousin’s flying leap out the window.

Mildred would consider that a miracle.

Gertude would never really get to finish her response to Anisei. She had felt the stab in her stomach. Before she could wander what she might have eaten, she looked down and saw the dart. Oh...Rissi…

That was all she managed to get out before it felt like her lungs were collapsing in on themselves. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, joining the ringing in her mind of Rissi’s fear and anger. Before she could so much as tell the silver mottle to stay, she heard a crash out front.

While her rider was having trouble breathing, Rissi wasn’t doing much better. Tails and limbs went askew as she tried to heave in enough oxygen to make it to her rider. Gertude meanwhile had staggered up, but didn’t make it far before she crashed to the floor. Tears were streaming down her face as her chest felt like she was on fire. Everywhere else on her body was cool though. To the point she was wondering who had turned off the heat to her fingers.

Despite their difficulties, dragon and rider would be trying to reach each other before the lack of oxygen got to them. If they were going to die, they wanted to die together. Just like every other rider pair out there. And if they survived…

Well...Silver mottle’s weren’t exactly known for being merciful.

Cain would wake up with a crash. He had heard the screams and the singing and just the general chaos while he slept. Instinct had taken over then and upon awakening, he had tried to bolt upright. Forgetting that the table was in the way. It was a painful reminder on his shin bones.

“What’s...What’s going on?” His eyes would seek out Susan and Taki to make sure both women were okay. Even as his brain tried to play catch up. Though molasses. The small nap did not good in that aspect.

If only the intruders could have waited another hour. Then he might be right as rain.

Nec

In the chaos immediately following the sudden attack Kaimus had no time to react other than to gasp in surprise, then nearly stagger in trying to catch Nec when the changeling dropped to a knee. So it was fairly easy for Nec to use him as an aid to stand.

"I don't know what you just said," he commented as Nec looked around then ordered they head to the kitchen, "but if you're certain you're up for it." Staggering with the Changeling they headed into the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty, surprisingly given the amount of food that had been coming out of it for the past several hours. Or maybe not surprisingly when the side door that was blocked by a heavy rolling cart tipped over on its side. Some muffled sounds came from the other side.

And a door opposite, leading out into what looked like a garden, was wide open and even swinging slightly from the impact the one opening it had delivered against the outside wall. But whomever it had been was in for a bad surprise: the garden was enclosed by a high wall, one that would be difficult to get out by going over unless you could leap like a crazed flea.

Kaimus' free hand wrapped in frosty mist as he took in the sight, glancing at the door.

"They're probably safer in there for the moment," he observed. "Onwards? Or should I get you to a healer – you're not looking so well." The Tiefling's eyes would be darting from one side to another to the door and back, making sure nothing snuck up on them and one hand would be wreathed in a frosty aura, a spell just a syllable away from being cast.

Tidesweep

Galatea had been relieved at Tide's assurance that

Thomas' fumble hopefully hadn’t caused any ill feelings, though she was also smart enough to know that there may be some lingering concern at the very least from the man himself.

Which flashed a moment later to panic when the attackers appeared and her husband fell.

"Magnus!" Instantly she was up and rushing to her husband's side, as were their five children. Wisely Erika quickly caught her two younger siblings and held them a couple steps back so they didn't get in the way.

Tide's song rang out loud and clear, perhaps a bit baffling a reaction to those from other Weyrs who didn't know her well. But whether it would have the desired effect... that had yet to be seen. Though it would most certainly be.



Mildred

Mildred's leap through the window was quite a dramatic move, and one that in full honesty cut quite a bit of time from her pursuit of the attackers. From her place of landing with bits of the remaining glass scattering around her she would see a flick of one of the intruders fleeing around the back, and the other who took the window exit was scurrying up the fence-like wall with surprising speed and agility. Neither looked back at her as they worked to make their escape, propelled onwards by Tide's song empowering their fear to an almost reckless speed.



Jeremi

Viceran was clearly the worst of those struck. It seemed like everyone had taken slightly different degrees of effect but none were suffering as he was. Already he would be very hot to the touch and the fever wouldn't be breaking, climbing quickly. His breath would be gasping rasps and his glazed eyes wide with fear and struggle. But one thing would quickly become clear to the healer as he toiled:

This was not a poison. Every symptom would be practically screaming sickness, disease, rapidly progressing faster and faster than it normally would even in a weak-system individual. A disease known to him by name: Grimoire Delirium. It caused hallucinations and breathing struggles, and particularly sensitive individuals could fall into a panic attack and suffocate if the fever – the most deadly part – didn't rise too high and get them first.

And, from his studies with Weyrhealer Larandaithiel he would know the cure: Silverleaf (a vine), Greater Osier (A flower), Cinder Peppermint (an herb), and amber, crushed into a powder and mixed with water into a tonic. Each of the herbs fairly easy to attain. Cinder Peppermint even notably grew well in mountainous environments.

Perhaps the High Mountain healers had some of the ingredients on hand, and perhaps someone could be sent for them? And in the meantime Shrayla's kit would have several things to help both with symptoms and with strengthening the elf against the disease, even if it didn't outright cure it completely.

Kemori caught Mildred's exit out of the corner of his eye as he tried to find the final attacker but it wasn't quite the time to mention it. Perhaps he would later, or maybe it would slip his mind. (If he knew her thoughts on his dating Jeremi perhaps it 'slipping his mind' might have appeared the better option!)



Gertude

Aniseis would be a bit too angry to quite realize what Gertude was trying to do though she would end up going the same direction, darting with gasping breath through the entrance doors and looking around. A couple of frightened servants would look at her, take in her furious, feverish expression and just point upstairs, which is where she'd run at once.

Gertude would be working to follow her out at this point only to have Jenna stepping up to her with Shrayla's medical kit. Even though there wouldn't be all the ingredients that Jeremi would be looking for, there were some that could help with the symptoms, give the victims the time they needed to hold on. That is if she permitted herself to be stopped.

Rissinoth, struggling up the path, would have quite an interesting encounter.

The two who had run that way would skid to a stop in front of her. One was agile and quick enough to simply bail off the side of the mountainous path, landing on a building ledge below and continuing on his way. The other tried to do the same but slipped, falling to his knees practically at the dragon's talons.

This was NOT his day.



Cain

Yes, the intruders were truly opportunistic dastards. Given they were all in position as they had been it was likely they'd been there for quite some time, and had seen the effects of timing it, chosing that moment to strike.

Granted, having some who weren't affected and the drinks the Cloudmoore's provided probably wasn't quite in their plans, which why some guests were able to react as quickly as they had.

Taki was still nearby to Ronorim, a hand on his arm to keep him with them and out of Jeremi's way much as Arahana was holding onto him; it was likely she was using her Empathy to keep the younger elf calmer as he was still quite concerned but no longer struggling against his bodyguard's embrace. They had to trust in Jeremi's skill.

Susan, on the other hand, was not quite herself at the moment as was revealed by a voice not quite like her own speaking to Arieh and unleashing power against one of the attackers.

Meeting his eyeless gaze from across the room Taki just gave a small, shaky but brave nod. She'd help here, if he wanted to go after them.

Meanwhile, Dorth would be the first dragon to become aware of it. A faintly smoky scent drifting through the Weyrs where the guest dragons, High Mountain dragons, and the hatching sands were located: flames!

There was fire in the Weyr, somewhere close to the sands were the helpless eggs lay! And even their protective mothers and all the Riders standing with them wouldn't be able to get them all out in time without someone else intervening.

Shrayla

The kits would likely be very useful, especially with those people around like Jeremi and yes even Raferties who were at least somewhat (in the angel's case) knowledgeable in how to use them.

The werewolf would find her scents and tear off into the kitchen, finding Nec and Kaimus had paused there to consider their options. Like them she would see the kitchen was empty, surprisingly given the amount of food that had been coming out of it for the past several hours. Or maybe not surprisingly when the side door that was blocked by a heavy rolling cart tipped over on its side. Some muffled sounds came from the other side.

And a door opposite, leading out into what looked like a garden, was wide open and even swinging slightly from the impact the one opening it had delivered against the outside wall. But whomever it had been was in for a bad surprise: the garden was enclosed by a high wall, one that would be difficult to get out by going over unless you could leap like a crazed flea.

The scene would be coming strong from the garden beyond.

Jenna

While her shot didn't score a hit on one of the assassins it at least startled one, so though she didn't see it he landed a bit poorly and was forced to dart around to the side rather than go over the fence. Mildred would later see the last hints of that one's retreat.

Yeah, should he survive this it was highly unlikely Magnus would really care about a chip, no matter how large, in the stonework.

Gertude was trying to leave by all appearances, so what the woman would do to get to her dragon, permit herself to be stopped and helped or not, was quite up for debate. As for her other intended targets to render first aid to they had all left the ballroom.

Oops. Well, that just means she could focus on the silver rider, right?

Linah

Perhaps the IF was taking the day off, or was busy elsewhere and they had decided to take over. No, clearly the attackers were not immortals like Linah was. But what they were was agile and well-prepared, case in point how they could bound out the windows with such agility and take no damage from it, even speed away. Only one was a bit slow, held up by surprise from Jenna's shot.

Mildred would have bounded out the other window, landing just a few feet from the other woman in a roll within a few seconds of one another. Thankfully, the height wasn't quite enough to do much more to Linah than break one leg and one ankle, as well as providing a few strains that were quickly mending.

Before her, one went over the fence like a squirrel. To her side one ran around behind the Cloudmoore compound. Looks like she had a choice.

And they wouldn't be the only ones to go out the window, but more about that later.

Arieh

Quite an unsettling conversation there, Arieh, Susan/Malady. At least for those who had no idea that Susan wasn't exactly Susan.

Granted the grand sum of those who knew such a thing amounted to perhaps five, give or take a couple. So odds were it was safe-ish.

What had happened to the attacker who'd seemingly vanished through the ceiling, well. He was probably much more un-safe, though that would be seen to later.

For Arieh searching the compound was probably the best thing he could have done. Anisies was about a dozen steps ahead of him as he exited the room, and the servants pointed him in the same direction. But the Tiefling, for all that she had been ahead, was struggling. Even from a distance her breathing would be ragged and she would be holding onto the bannister more for her own balance than a simple care against falling. But she was soldiering on, her rage at being attacked and desire for vengeance giving her the strength she lacked physically... at least for now.

At least until a form leapt from upstairs, running down the bannister to jump at the Tiefling and kick her in the chest, knocking her backwards and for a long, painful tumble down the stairs. After that he jumped over where she'd stood, landing on the ground level and expecting to make a clean getaway out the front door.

Well, had it been a good idea, and might have succeeded if there were only the servants present. Certainly they wouldn't have put up anything of a resistance. But Arieh wasn't a servant, wasn't affected by timing it, and the sight of him caused the attacker to slide to a stop, quickly reaching for a wicked-looking dagger in a sheath on his belt and drawing it. The blade would drip with some dark ichor.

"This isn't about you, Sundarian," he growled. "Best you just leave it be and go, lest you regret it." His voice would be almost unnaturally rough, horse, like he'd spent hours coughing or smoking right before this attack though of course that couldn't be.

Then Tide's song reached his ears and his face paled, a tremble overtaking him as he turned and bolted for the door, throwing the dagger in a wild attack towards one of the fleeing servants. Perhaps a distraction – who would Arieh go for?

Melonwei
Getting answers from Viceran would be more than difficult – it appeared that he was much more severely affected as Jermi, already examining him, could attest to. Though between all those communicating with the victims who remained in the room (ie, not Nec or Anisies and perhaps Gertude if Jenna couldn't stop her) working together the symptoms became quickly clear:

High fever developing incredibly fast.

Breathing difficulty, but not as if the lungs were clogged with mucus. Rather like their throats were trying to close, or their diaphragms simply forgot how to function properly.

Overall weakness and for the bulk of them the inability to stand; only Gertude's sheer determination seemed to be keeping her upright, as was Nec's stubbornness. Aniseis, though she was out of Melonwei's line of sight, Arieh would be able to confirm that she wasn't standing up again for all her trying.

Rapid heartbeat, to the point that the pulse could be seen in the throat and caused trembling.

In short, yes it was incredibly similar to the illness that plagued High Mountain Weyr before and brought everyone to this situation. But unlike before when symptoms built up over a matter of days or even weeks these hit their peak within moments.

It was like somehow they had... made the disease advance?

The Weyrwomen Collective

Even though they came from different Weyrs, perhaps it would ease both Viceran's stressed state and Ronorim's anxiety to have a fellow elf nearby as well. Certainly Viceran's gaze, fevered though it clearly was, would flick to Weyrwoman Belandriel for a moment before closing in pain again. Aedan would for his part be standing nearby to the young elf candidate, perhaps 'taking up the part' of a bodyguard for the moment.

Weyrwoman Sandasa wouldn't be the sole person tending to Magnus. Galatea had been quick to his side, taking hold of his hand. He was fighting through the symptoms, quite visibly so. Thomas, Mica, and Erika would be quick to join though the elder daughter would grab her two younger siblings and keep them back out of the way.

"Who – whoever did this - " the Weyrleader forced out through gritted teeth, looking at his eldest children, " - find – them!"

"Yes, father," Thomas, Mica, and Erika said together. Erika passed the twins to their mother who had tried to make sense of the medical kit Shrayla had thrown her husband's way but in her current panicked state she couldn't focus enough. The three darted to the windows as Velaska winged her own way out through the broken window, aiming up.

Then, first Thomas, then Mica and Erika, they each stopped and jumped through, landing with grace on the ground outside. Thomas quickly called out, "Up!" Without hesitation and with Thomas leading the way sprang high into the air, far higher than a human typically could jump especially from a stand still. They each took different perches on the various juts that adorned their home – perhaps finally revealing to all that could see them what they were for – and Erika turned her head towards the front.

"I see one – going after him!" Holding up her hand her greatspear appeared there and she jumped towards the front of the manor, bounding off of more ledges and balconies with skill towards where Rissinoth had encountered one of the attackers.

"Going over!" called Mica as he in a single leap cleared the fence after the one that had scurried over it, taking up pursuit with his own weapon appearing in hand.

Thomas, meanwhile, leapt straight up after the Exaltis Weyrwoman to the roof.

On the roof was one rather... joyful?... attacker. This was the one that had been hit by Susan/Malady's command, and he was trembling where he stood, clearly fevered and in pain from the disease wrecking his system.

And yet he was grinning, even laughing as he stood there. Even as the succubus and the heir reached the top he threw his arms out wide, calling,

"Oh, how wondrous! Such fevered state, such pain! Truly a marvelous disease now takes its toll on me!"

"This guy," was all Thomas could say and he summoned his spear, "is crazy!" Perhaps, as being affected by the illness had rendered Tide's song ineffective.

-------------------------------

Finally! I have an update for this! My apologies for the long delay.

Ok, some things of note: It is highly advisable to read through each part to look for interactions. Some people are operating on the same things at the same time. I hope I've kept everything organized and coherent.

A few special notes:
Jeremi, Melonwei, and anyone trying to use the healing kits or healing magics they may have can powerplay the effects at their discretion.

Gertude may powerplay the fight between Rissinoth and the attacker. You may also powerplay Erika if you want for the fight. If it's not clear the Cloudmoores are exceptionally skilled Dragoons.

Shrayla and Nec have the options of entering the garden or helping the servants, or doing something else.

Velaska, you have the option of powerplaying Thomas for the battle.

Everyone that I have said may powerplay fights, you may finish them or wait for me to update a conclusion.

Aside for these notes if I haven't specified anything then you may consider it free reign or you can ask me for any details you need.

As I said, the Cloudmoores are all Dragoons, which for those not familiar with Final Fantasy lore are warriors who fight with high and long leaps that can even defy gravity.

Again, sorry for the delay and hope everyone's enjoying this! The conclusion looms near!

Shrayla would only have time to see Nec and Kaimus before the changeling ordered they head for the garden and unceremoniously dragging the ice demon along, half crutch, half something to hit the assassin over the head with. Nec didn't know Shrayla other than he knew she'd been among those who arrived from Haven, but understood she was a friendly. His order to Kaimus included her as well, with just a hint of 'optional', but there were several servants who looked to be okay and starting to help, not to mention Nec would bet his left hand that Magnus would want as many as possible apprehended!

Snarling and breathing through the pain that was spreading, Nec ignored the fact that he saw double of everything and his heart was racing, not to mention his temperature, because when they got out into the garden, he smiled.

Walls.

High walls.

And no clear path to anything like an exit, which made sense with how high they were. A perfect trap and no way the assassin could escape unless he or she spontaneously sprouted spider legs!

A movement! Along with a whisper of a sound down by a corner, and Nec headed that way without pause, forgetting about Shrayla as he suddenly had one goal only, and that was getting his hands around the person's throat! Shredding through a bush, he spotted the assassin by the wall, looking quite worried! "YOU!!" Nope, no intention of giving him a chance to surrender. Nec glanced at Kaimus and indicated they should spread, and if Shrayla had joined maybe she'd take a side too and really box him in!

Before any of them could so much as get close to him (if it truly was a he) however, a black shadow sprang from the shadows of a great tree! Fire and darkness that growled like the Hellhound she was, Sealgair tore from the shadow and straight at the dark clad intruder! Only a sharp, hoarse command from Nec stopped her from tearing his throat out, going for an arm instead, but her self control was hanging by a thread. One move, one breath, from her prey and she would end it! The glow of fire from her maw could be seen and felt, the cloth on the arm trapped between her jaws singing, burning, and oh, she wished he would just... Move. Give me a reason!.

Jeremi would glance down at Viceran before looking around to see if he could possibly spot Ronorim among everyone moving about. He didn't spot the bodyguard's charge, but as far as he was aware, he was still unhurt. "As far as I am aware, he is okay. " Wasn't he trying to get to Viceran at one point, but the other bodyguard kept him a safe distance? The healer just couldn't remember right now and quite frankly, he had other pressing matters in his mind to take care of. If Ronorim had been hit, than Jeremi needed to work on stabilizing some of the others so that way everyone would come out of this alive.

That was the goal after all.

Tide followed the servant, taking the offered basket in the infirmary and then entering the garden. The smell of earth and mint hit her nose and she had to resist the urge to sneeze. It wasn't hard to find the plants that Channah had shown them. Picking the ones that the servant wasn't gathering, she too wasn't being too careful with how much she picked. She would of course try to leave at least one plant around, but she didn't know how much would be needed and couldn't the herbs be dried anyway? May not make them as powerful, but Tide was sure that it wouldn't make them useless either.

She also suspected they would be forgiven given the stress of the moment.

Once they had everything, they would of course drag it back to Jeremi and the others attending and wait for further instructions on how exactly they were to prepared this potion.

Gertude was taking to being confined to a chair about as well as was to be expected. The first aid was helping, but she still felt tired and weak. Each breath was a labor she preformed for her and Rissi's sake. For if she went, so did her dragon. Maybe not as immediately as Rissi was a mottle, but all the same. If rider went, the dragon was sure to follow. Just like if the dragon went, the rider would often follow.

Rissi looked at Erika, the flames barely being held in bay. She feared the knife very little as she just flexed her claws even tighter around her captive. Do you know the power you give me High Mountain rider? Do you know how little effort it would take me to burn this scum to ashes? How much control I am using to at least allow him a moment to answer? Her eyes whirred an alarming mixture of reds and yellows. Anger at the assassins. Fear for the eggs down below. Fear for her rider. Anger at those that promised her rider would be safe and failed to keep it.

Though understanding that it was not completely the Cloudmoores fault that these cultists attacked. How could they have known the danger?

Looking down at the one between her claws, his fate was decided by his silence. Her maw would open and the cultist would be no more. Snapping it closed, she turned upon Erika, nostrils flaring. You would ask me to abandon my rider. To leave my G'ude here alone. With me no longer here. She brought her face close to Erika, staring at her with one swirling eye. You would ask this of me, despite knowing that the answer may result in my refusal. Maybe even my wrath at this point. You ask this of me for your weyr and for the eggs on the sands that you claim as yours even if they are not yours except by association to High Mountain. Her eyes would slowly lose some of the red and yellow in them, to be replaced by calmer colors. You are brave Erika and you know the course you need to take, even if the path is rocky. She would extend a foreleg as she brought her head back out of Erika's personal bubble. Improper request or not. Angry or not. Rissinoth knew very well that this was the course of action that was the best to take.

Let us make this quick so I can come back to be with my G'ude should the worst befall.

Looks like Erika's request would be granted and Rissi would take her to the eggs.

The smoke would curl around her nose, leaving a bitter taste on the back of her tongue. Dorth would just barely hold back the want to sneeze. It would do her no good as she looked down below, trying to figure out where the fire was to begin with. The smoke was low. Lower than it probably should have been. Did that mean the fire was further down than any of them were thinking? And just what were they burning?! Was it dangerous as well? Were the riders and dragons gonna be okay if they kept breathing this in?

A rumble of frustration could be heard from her as she circled the hatching sands. Could she land and beat the smoke back with her wings? What about the sand that would surely be caught up in the whirlwind? Wouldn't that hurt the riders and dragon-

Her thoughts were cut off as movement caught her eye. A shadowy figure. Moving from shadow to shadow. Getting further and further away from the main action. That had to be the arsonist! Without a second thought and barely a calculated projected flight path, Dorth dived down to attempt to capture the figure in her claws. Now rather she crash landed or not...That was up for debate.

Cain fought through the pain of his cracked bones. It wasn't the first time he had cracked them and it probably wouldn't be the last time as he had no padding to cushion them when ever he jumped or fell from high places. But at the same time, he had nothing to bruise and sprain as his intended target proved. Not wasting a moment of time, Cain sprinted toward him, doing a diving tackle at the last minute to land on the cultist's back. "Just where do ya think ya going in such a hurry? Ya didn't even stay for dessert. What rude manners."

Knowing his body weight alone wouldn't keep the guy down, he quickly pressed a finger into the back of the guy's neck, hoping that it felt enough like a dull blade to be effective. "Maybe I should teach ya a few. Such as we do not attack other guests."

Mildred got into the rhythm of running. Slap. Slap. Breath. Breath. Pant. Pant. Her eyes never left her target and she kept up enough that even when he turned down an alley or a street, she wasn't worried about losing him. As was proven by the last alley they turned down. It came up a dead end and there he was, dagger pulled and at the ready. Mildred caught the gleam of the edge and knew it was likely coated in something. Most assassin blades usually were. It wasn't that much of a leap in imagination to come to the conclusion that so was this one.

Her hands moved across her stones. Touching and drawing power from amethyst, quartz, turquoise, obsidian, and a few others. She may not be able to draw upon the full powers of the stones, but she could draw enough that should she get cut, she wouldn't immediately fall over dead. She just wasn't sure what was on the blade and really couldn't do much other than protect from poison and darker magic.

Withdrawing her own blade, she started to approach cautiously. There was something in his eyes that made her wary. Almost like trying to get a wild cat to calm down and come home with you. Knowing that one move too swiftly could have you ending up with a scratch and a cat bolting away for freedom. Though in this case, that 'scratch' would be a lot more deadly than a cat's claws.

She must have made a wrong move though cause suddenly the guy was charging down at her. Knowing that letting him past her was not an option, she dropped down, narrowly missing the blade by inches. Her leg came out in a sweeping motion, knocking into his ankles and sending him sprawling. Which proved to be a mistake as in his failing on the way down, he managed to slice through her jeans and into her calf. The cut was jagged and she could feel the blood already welling up in effort to close it. She jumped away, letting out a hiss of pain.

Another quick touch to amethyst.

He was back on his feet in no time and Mildred knew her time was limited now. She went in for a charge and he met her head. Blades slashed. A gash appeared on his forearm. A bruise formed on her shoulder. At one point, she was sure she forced his arm out of socket, but it was the one that wasn't holding to the knife so it did very little in giving her an upper hand. Finally though, she saw an opening and took it, knife plunging into his chest. Sure. He might have been more valuable alive, but at the moment, she seriously doubted he would let her take him that. And she didn't think she would have the strength to drag him back anyway. As he went down, so did she, breaths coming up in short pants.

"What a way to go...huh?"

Nec

Being the race he was and from the region he was, Kaimus had had his fair share of encounters with Hellhounds. They weren't exactly rare creatures there after all! So he could both grasp the danger that threatened from disobeying Sealgair's command and appreciate in a vengeful sort of way the pain the assassin was going through. This was clearly a Bonded after his own, albeit more cold-aligned, heart. So he simply nodded and hefted Nec a bit more against his shoulder.

Getting into the kitchen was the hard part, really. From there he uses his elemental mastery to form a plain of ice beneath the Changeling's feet, like a red carpet for one only frigid white instead, and half pulled, half slid him back into the banquet hall and to where the other afflicted had been gathered. There he settled Nec down so should he be able to sit or only lay he would be comfortable.

"We caught one!" he rather jauntily informed them, earning him a scowl from some of his own that he ignored. "A lovely lady Hellhound should be bringing him in shortly."

Cue Sealgair, dragging the barely-conscious man along by one arm. He would be no further trouble.
**************************

Jeremi

At Jeremi's reassurance that his charge was safe allowed Viceran to relax, eyes closing and laying still as the healer worked. Thankfully the remedy ingredients were on the way!

************************************

Tide

To be fair, Tide wasn't the only one being perhaps a little less than careful with their gathering. Haste was clearly forefront in the servant's mind as they were grabbing the proper plants and pulling them, leaves, stem, and all, into their baskets and aprons. Then they hurried back into the main hall to deposit them close to Jeremi and the healers to be prepared, or rather to be told how to prepare them as some took up the role of instructing as they continued to work.

******************************************

Gertude

Gertude would continually have someone by her side, one of the serving maids who would be diligently bathing her fevered forehead and neck with cool water-soaked cloths and offering what comfort she could.

"Everything will be okay, miss," she offered, rubbing her back and turning to wring out the cloth once more. "They'll get the medicine made. It'll all be okay." Yeah, she was rambling. Her hands were shaking a bit, but she was trying to stay calm for Gertude's sake.



Erika swallowed a bit when faced with Rissinoth's clear wrath, but stood her ground with determination and noticeable respect.

"I know," she answered. "As daughter of the Weyrleader I have the right to make such a decision, and I say you have the right." She only flinched a bit from proximity when the Silver Mottle made her decision and ended the assassin's life.

Then she was the one to be the focus of said ire when Rissinoth whirled her gaze around on her.

"Were you to refuse I would simply nod and leap towards the sands as fast as I could go. I know I ask much of you, and I only ask for you to get me there – even just close enough for me to jump to a ledge will do - then I can find my way back after the eggs are safe." As she said this Erika's posture remained respectful albeit tense. She was clearly well aware that her life could easily be as snuffed out as the man's had been, and likely no one would blame Rissinoth for it. The woman was asking her to go in the opposite direction of her ill Rider. "Regardless, the eggs must survive to hatch!"

As the angry colors faded from Rissinoth's eyes Erika's shoulders did relax, and she bowed again.

"Thank you, Rissinoth. Truly the nobility of the silver bloodline shines as brightly in Haven as it does here." She accepted the step up, jumping from her foreleg and landing on her back.

Flying to the hatching sands there wouldn't be any immediate view of where the fires originated. Riders would be fanning out around the sands and a few dragons, those with frost breath by the way white mist was leaking from their lips, were standing guard nearby to the entrances watching for flames.

"I can manage from here!" called Erika from her back, even though they had to be fifty feet from the highest ledge in the area. "Thank you, and I pray your Rider recovers quickly!" With that Erika jumped, flipping as she fell to land on her feet – safely! - on said highest ledge before leaping without pause ledge to ledge downwards.

Rissinoth would be free to return to the manor and Gertude.

********************************

Cain

Dorth would see Rissinoth and Erika's arrival even as she spied the fleeting individual. Swooping down from on high the manwould only have a split second to realize his danger before the dragon's claws were closing around him and the brown was sliding to a rough, if at least standing, stop.

Surely High Mountain wouldn't mind the furrows. Too-fast dragon landings had to happen on occasion, right?

The man struggled, trying to twist out of her grip and snarling in his anger at being caught, then drew a dagger. Whether he intended to use it on her or himself was uncertain. The acrid scent would be all over him as well, something that burned at Dorth's throat like too much cayenne pepper.

((You can choose whom his target is and the outcome in your reply; full freedom to take him alive or end him.))



The cultist grunted as Cain landed on him; even being just bones there was some weight there. It further helped to keep him winded thought he struggled against both house own injuries and the skeleton's weight until he felt the poke against his neck. He looked over his shoulder with a tooth-barred snarl, then abruptly brought his teeth together hard. There was a cracking sound and a moment later he began to convulse, foam coming to his lips.

A second later Cain would feel death pass by as it collected another soul. Seems he preferred the grave to imprisonment.

*******************************

Mildred

A brutal, bloody battle, and one remained standing. Thankfully it was to the victory of Haven Weyr.

A search of the man, should Mildred conduct one, would reveal little of interest aside from his weapons, a few small vials of powders and liquids of questionable natures, a few more darts in a belt pouch, and a tattoo on his right arm over the vein: a coiled cobra with a single drop coming from a fang. Perhaps someone at the Weyr would know more.

******************************
******************************
Everyone

One by one, each of the cultists would be brought down. Some were taken captive while some would perish for their attempt, but by the time the stars were high it would all be over.

Through the efforts of Jeremi and the healers the remedy was made quickly and administered to the stricken. Almost immediately their breathing would become easier and fevers break, some falling into a healing sleep almost instantly. Galatea would do her duty as Weyrleader's wife and see that they were settled in infirmary rooms comfortably to be further tended to.

The fires in the Weyr itself would be found in several junctures of the halls, each blocking a ground-level exit and belching out black, foul smoke. Those who got too close or breathed too much in suffered terrible coughing fits far beyond the norm for smoke inhalation, ending up in the infirmary themselves to be treated for it. Erika herself would end up there though she would recover quickly. Thankfully the fires failed to spread to the sands nor choke out any aside from those fighting the flames directly.

Of the cultists themselves, for that was what they were, they'd be identified as members of a group who not only loathed the Weyr and everything to do with it but enamored with disease and the suffering it caused, seeing it as a blessed thing. One even would admit that the plague that wracked the Weyr that winter before would have been their doing, an attempt to cripple High Mountain beyond the point of recovery. Over mystery solved.

Regardless of their deeds everyone would have plenty of time to rest and recover. A little over a week in fact would pass before the dragon's began the long-expected humming thrum. Everyone would be able to take their appointed place on the sands. In this at least the other Weyrwomen would be able to note that High Mountain held somewhat to tradition: every one of the candidates would be given a tunic and pants set before the hatching to wear on the sands in pristine white, or dresses for those who desired them. Adult dragons would ring the bowl on ledges while people settled in stands too watch. Notably there were a group of very prominent ledges that would remain empty; Magnus' dragon would be observing from one side of them.

Even as the first eggs would be starting to rock back and forth there would be the sound of Dragon wings beating the air and five dragons would descend to take their place upon saps ledges. Silver scales would flash in the sunlight, but these would be no Mottle Dragons.

Each one of them would be Wild Silver Dragons.

As they landed Magnus and his family would stand, a clear gesture of respect as they slightly bowed or curtseyed, and the Silvers would lower their heads in a reply token of respect. Perhaps in other circumstances words might have been exchanged but the first shell cracking diverted all attention.

Well well, the largest and presumably eldest of the Wilds would chuckle; even speaking 'quietly' his voice would carry, it would seem the young-to-be aren't willing to be upstaged today!

Several eggs would be rocking back and forth, cracking and little flecks falling away as if they were racing to be the first to shatter. Now in most Weyrs for a Bronze, Mottle or Pureblood, to hatch first was considered good luck on the hatching. At first it might seem that such would happen as one of the larger eggs gave a violent jerk, almost rolling over completely on itself. But then an egg that was swirled fairly evenly black and white beat it to the punch, snapping almost perfectly in half and a hatching with brilliant silver scales tumbled onto the sands. The watching audience erupted into cheers!

As if a signal all the others began hatching in rapid succession, hatchlings stumbling about as they crooned and called for their Riders, searching for them. Seated with the Cloudmoors the visiting Weyrwomen might hear Magnus quietly murmuring to himself, "Please, don't go Between, find your One!" Several others all around the stands were holding their collective breaths as well. Who would be first?

As it turned out, it would be a Brown Mottle. Shaking off the sand and lingering bits of eggshell, he would find he ended up rather close to his Rider. Without any hesitation he would stumble and wobble his way to Tidesweep and lean heavily against her, worn from the effort of hatching.

My heart sings of the ocean. It sings of you.


Bond! Your Giving Heart and My Large Wings Can Save the World Brown Mottle Male, Vakioth to Tidesweep!



**************

The next Impression would happen on the heels of the first, and with much more...

Exuberant affection.

Perhaps Cain would see her coming, perhaps not. In either event he would find a wet, eggshell-speckled brown dragonette clinging to him with limbs, wings, and tail.

I love you! Well, to the point at least?

Bond! Sweet as Syrup and Sticking Just as Much to You Brown Mottle Female, Kialinth to Cain!

****************

That first silver finally got himself orientated, shaking off a particularly stubborn piece of eggshell on his head and looking around, trying in vain to get his wings in some semblance of order. Finally satisfied (or more like giving up) he began hunting for his One. He dodged around several hopeful candidates until finally honing in on one woman on the sands: Mildred!

Coming to stand before her he nudged his head against her hand, then her chest, seeming quite satisfied once contact had been given.

You are the counterweight to my heart. I am whole.

Bond! Our Scales are Now Balanced Silver Mottle Male, Riolunth to Mildred!

******************

The next dragon to collide, literally, with their Rider was of all a white. A small creature barely bigger than a pony, a mite bit small for a dragon. Perhaps some might have thought she would have found one of the daintier females for a Rider, or perhaps Ronorim being a younger, lighter, slighter male.

No. She saw her One and made a beeline for him: Thyrus!

Stumbling in the thick layer of sand the demon-blooded man had to drop to his knees to catch her and prevent a painful nose-burying, and she looked up at him full of adoration.

I found you, Thy... Perhaps not a full Eliding of his name in the traditional sense, but all the same Thyrus' eyes widened then edged with tears that he freely let fall as he embraced the little one.

"Stay with me, Tiakath …"

If you stay with me...

********************

With a powerful shattering of shell, a Red Mottle shook himself free of her egg. Her eyes all but blazed as she moved with determination, shoving past a couple slower hatchings to reach the one who held her eyes, the seemingly sweet and demure Aniseis. No outward words were exchanged – perhaps this was the kind of dragon that only communicated with her Rider – but the woman smiled back with a gleam in her own eyes.

*****************

It had been a chaotic week, that was for certain! Even more so for healers, such as Jeremi. The Haven healer had probably only gotten a couple nights solid sleep for keeping an ear open for relapsing patients. Kemori had kept himself busy as well seeing to Jeremi's needs, from running him meals and ensuring what rest he did get was peaceful.

But now everything was happy and joyful again, with the past tragedy being erased in the croons of happy dragonettes and new Riders.

His steps were surprisingly gentle, given the newness of his legs. But as the young, egg-wet dragon curled around Jeremi's waist with affectionate nuzzles all of the last stress would melt away.

While you take care of everyone, J'mi, I'll help take care of you.

Bond! Your Shore from the Storm of Life Brass Mottle Male Dragon, Azlemth to Jeremi!

*****************

Sometimes, it happened that when a dragon hatched they didn't find their Rider. For the Purebloods, it was a death sentence.

For the Mottles, it meant waiting. And for one the waiting had finally, finally come to an end.

As the hatchlings were mingling among the Candidates and the Candidates were wondering if they'd be chosen from on high, on the ledges, a half-grown dragon was fidgeting. His eyes were darting here, there, and... there!

Without warning the yearling landed in the sands, sending hatchlings scattering and running to their Riders for shelter (and triggering a couple of Impressions in the process!), wings and tail curling around Necthan with protective determination.

Stay away! Stay away, he's Mine! His voice would soften a bit as he nuzzled the Changeling's horned head. Mine, My Necthan...what kept you so long? I almost learned to fly without you! The scolding would be accompanied by a tail-thump to the head, then a couple quick licks.

Bond! When the Stars Align, Anything is Possible Blue Mottle Male, Apotelesmath to Nec!

**********************

Perhaps no one would notice. Certainly no one could be blamed for not paying attention to a certain Black Mottle laying weakly on the Sands where she'd hardly moved aside from wearily turning her head to see her eggs hatch. Her grey eyes would briefly show the tones of happiness and satisfaction, before she softly sighed and lay still. Ataratath, Mottle dragon of the plague victim Milinia, had completed her final task and had let herself leave, her young breathing in the world.

And perhaps no one would see what happened then, though those that would might feel blessed. A shadow that was not a shadow would suddenly be beside the still head, hands resting upon it, then a second larger shadow that was not a shadow would rise from the still form. Together they would walk away from the sands, through the lower entryways and vanish from sight.

Maybe Milinia had been waiting for her too.

******************

And the Dragons are revealed!

If I missed anyone, please let me know. To those characters who were requested to Impress but I haven't gotten a reply from you, you have until the 15th to post for me to reveal your dragons. Just give me some narrative of what your character would've been doing during all this chaos with the cultists. It could be trying to help with the healers, trying to hunt down some clues, helping Lady Galatea with her youngest or maids with running for blankets and the like. Just give me some effort, lets say 500 words or so at least, and I'll post more replies with your dragons. I know the holidays are typically crazy which is why I'm giving another opportunity, on top of my own shall we can irregularity with this Bonding. (I've definitely learned a thing or two for the next time I host Dragons).

Again, if I've missed anything or anyone, please PM me here or on Discord and let me know, and I'll happily edit!

Don't forget to claim your dragons too!

It took a while for Nec to come back, the poison, or rather disease as he'd learn when he woke up, had probably had some odd effect on his body less often seen in humans. But he did, and Sealgair was happy about it, even if her only comment had been along the lines of 'about time' in that sulfurous mind voice of hers before disappearing into a shadow. The assassin they, or rather Sealgair, had caught was apparently in a dungeon somewhere but of no interest to the changeling. He was for Highmountain to deal with and none of his concern any more. Nec was much more interested in what would be happening on the Sands and as soon as the humming started he'd be there like the others.

Standing a bit on the side, still on the sands but a bit away from the eggs, Nec found himself staring at them as several silvers landed on an empty ledge.

*"...wild..."*

Those were wild ones? What were they doing here? Oh right, maybe fathers? Kaimus had said Highmountain encouraged it hadn't he? They were here to see their offspring hatch. And that they did! As if they'd only waited for the wilds the started soon after, and suddenly tiny dragons (at least tiny compared to a grown one) was making their way between hopeful candidates. A brown mottle, a blue mottle, silver and brass and thank the gods none went between! But, as Nec had suspected and feared, none headed for him. Possibly why he'd chosen this spot, Nec hadn't truly believed he'd be chosen.

Disappointed, of course he was already starting to turn to leave, as far as he could tell all the dragonlings had found their match so why stay? That soon became apparent when a fraction of a second before a tight embrace Nec felt eyes on him and something literally slamming into his soul! Then came wings and tail and claws and wrapped him!

Like others Nec was stuck for words as the bond sealed them both. Only one word was uttered. "Apotelesmath." He did look up though, at the nuzzle, only to see dark blue scales and hide, a blunt horn on his nose that looked broken and smoothed down. A perfect match!