The Beginning of the End? [SITE EVENT]

No! D’ren!

Roanrth’s voice was familiar to many of Katila’s residents. The gentle dragon, always oblivious to the attitudes of others, liked to think of everyone as his friend. Few would even conceive of an angry Ronarth.

Tonight, the bronze’s voice lacked its usual sweetness. The words, bursting with rage, rolled through the Weyr like a frightful tidal wave. A horrible bellow followed as Ronarth landed in the gather square, his solid form shadowed in the darkness of night. He screeched again, eyes roiling red, and placed his forepaws on the side of the nearest building.

Katila’s healer hall was sturdy, but so was Ronarth. The dragon’s body quivered with unspeakable rage as he let out another piercing shriek. Fix him! FIX HIM. FIX HIM NOW! the dragon screamed, his words open for all to hear as he flung his bulk into the side of the building. The wall quivered, terrifying the people inside as the red-eyed dragon threw himself into it again, unsheathed claws raking down the wall and leaving deep gouges in their wake.

Who did this?! Ill kill them! I’ll kill them! I’ll kill you! Ronarth bellowed, accompanied by an infuriated roar from deep within his throat. With a screech of effort, he punched one forepaw through the wall. Someone inside screamed. Several people had already dashed away from the building, and dragons all over were reacting with fear and pity from the overwhelming anger of their Weyrleader.

Where did you go?! Where are you?! I’m going to kill you! I’m going to kill you! the dragon screamed again and again as he smashed his body into the building. If Nirinath was speaking to him, her words were ineffective; he was lost.

Within minutes, he’d torn half the front wall down. His torn hide glistened with ichor, having shredded himself against the sturdy building. He let out one last pitiful cry as he slumped against the pile of rubble, body quivering in grief. 

The whole incident has lasted only a few minutes. Inside the healer hall, however, the panic continued.

Everyone is welcome to post. There is also a thread in the dining hall set at the same time, located HERE. Your characters can be at either, or may leave one and go to the other.

The OOC discussion thread is located HERE

More updates soon!

Larrikith was trembling, curled tightly in on herself where she was crouched. Beside her, B'jin was frowning. The pair had been minding their own business, Larrikith outside the Weyr proper as she went hunting for an evening meal while B'jin had been relaxing in the baths (doors locked!) and enjoying a moment of both privacy and peace. It was only natural that their individual activities should be so rudely interrupted!

The sudden pounding of an outraged, frightened dragon voice against his mind that was clearly not Larrikith had B'jin floundering in the tub of water, shocked, startled and more than a little frightened by the sudden breaching of his mind. He breathed in water and came up gasping as Ronarth started screeching about killing someone, finding someone. B'jin coughed and spluttered, toppling out of the tub and wrapping himself hastily in a towel.

Larri? Larrikith! What in the world?!

I don't know! Her mind voice was trembling as it brushed against his own. B'jin was startled by the undercurrent of uncertinty and fear flooding through the green dragon. I return. Her presence vanished momentarily, before flooding his sense of presence once more as Larrikith reappeared from between to land outside the bathing houses.

B'jin barely took the time to dry himself before scrambling into clean clothing, leaving his dirty ones in a pile to be forgotten as he dashed out of the room, colliding with others - dragonriders and non-riders alike - as he made his way to his own beast. Larrikith was pressed against the building, leaving room for larger dragons to come and go. Her eyes were flecked with shades of fear, and B'jin pressed against her neck as he ran his hands lightly over supple dragon hide.

"What's going on?" His voice was soft, calming and reassuring as the greenrider calmed his beast. Larrikith so rarely let the goings on around her amp her up, for such to happen! B'jin trembled against his dragon, who breathed a heavy sigh. Her breath stank of blood.

Something has happened to D'ren.

Seijin jumped as he heard Roanrth’s loud cries. He knew something was wrong but had no idea what. But whatever it was made the bronze totally out of control with anger and distress. He wished he could help soothe the dragon or something to ease the big bronzes distressed cries and angry violence.  He had sent Claus and Lana back to his rooms to hopefully keep them out of harm’s way. He knew they could flee if danger came close to where they were hiding they were both smart enough for that.

Seijin couldn’t believe that the usually calm quiet bronze would go so mad and destructive. Whatever happened must have been awful to set him off so. He shook his head as if to clear it. His mind still hearing the angry voice. Who would harm a dragon so? He wondered softly to himself and why would they do this knowing the dangers it held.

He looked around hoping to find someone that could let him know what was going on. Or tell him what he could do to help. He hoped no one was hurt during the dragon’s rampage. But the dragon’s stillness had him worried as well. Was he just taking a break or was it over? What had set him off in the first place? It had to do with something happening to his rider. He learned that much in the candidate classes about how close a rider and his or her dragon could be.
 
He noticed B’jin the candidate Master that was teaching there class. He was standing with his own dragon near a wall.  He approached quickly yet quietly not wanting to upset B’jin’s green beauty.  “Sir, Do you know what is going on? Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked softly.  He figured their teacher might have some idea what to do. And would know if he could be any help at all.

R’nd had been giving an innocent visit to a friend at the Candidate Barracks when Ronarth was suddenly in his head and screaming about killing someone, possibly him. Like his friend, he startled visibly with Rell squeaking his protest before vanishing from the perch known as R’nd’s head and quickly reached out to Ayyonth to see what was going on and if his blue was okay. I’m fine but the Weyrleader is not. Ronarth attacks the Healing Hall as we speak.The awe in the usually mellow mind-voice was enough for R’nd to know that Ayyonth wasn’t getting his information from other dragons but observing it for himself. Since the hut of his friend was fairly close to that area, it wasn’t surprising that his curious blue had already made his way over there and R’nd felt he needed to as well. He quickly passed on what Ayyonth had told him and bolted out the door.

Outside was an interesting mess of people. Ronarth was seen clawing at the Healing Hall located beside the Candidate Barracks while bellowing and R’nd gasped in shock and almost fell on his face as he came to a sudden stop, feet tripping over themselves. He was beginning to tremble and couldn’t tell if it was his own fear or Ayyonth’s. Both, he decided as man and dragon reached for each other at the same time, looking for a soothing touch while offering to soothe. They had an odd relationship, both willing to look after the other at their own expense – when Ayyonth wasn’t busy teasing R’nd or anyone else, anyway – but it worked and the trembling was contained enough for steady legs to take a few steps back. It wasn’t like he was next to the Healing Hall but R’nd had an uncontrollable belief that anyone within a certain radius of the ferocious bronze would take the blunt of his anger and serve as a lesson for the actual person behind the crime.

Why wasn’t Nirinath controlling Ronarth? Was D’ren in such bad shape that not even the queen could do anything? That was a terrifying thought and R’nd took several more stumbling steps away from the unchecked dragon. Dragons were gentle beings but R’nd didn’t doubt that Ronarth would gladly change that perception right then when it came to D’ren hanging onto life.

Oh!

R’nd gawked wide-eyed at Ronarth as a realisation hit him. While he still liked the Weyrleader, he had been cautious around the man ever since the grilling over the black eye incident – the first one! – as well as the lashing he ordered B’jin to have and the one I’shan had just been given, both because of him. B’jin, however, was still a good friend of D’ren’s and would no doubt be beside himself right then. Where’s B’jin? R’nd had to force himself to turn toward Ayyonth and away from Ronarth, risking an exposed back, though it wasn’t like seeing the bronze charging for him would serve him any better in the end. He’s across the Square at the Bathing House with Larrikith. A young man approached them. R’nd had excellent vision but he still longed for the sight of a dragon who could make out details far better than he ever could. At the directions given to him, he could see the small green pressed up by the building though other dragons were coming and going making R’nd’s decision for him.

He should go help B’jin deal with frantic Candidates that should be evacuating the area instead of detaining others from doing the same but he knew B’jin could handle that side. At his own mental chiding of the faceless man, R’nd rounded back on the Barracks he had come from and went back inside. I’m not sure what’s going to happen but I’m getting them out of here for now until… until Ronarth calms. R’nd didn’t want to think of Ronarth going between for a final trip and tried to remain optimistic that Talian and the others would help D’ren. Tell Larrikith what we’re doing and find out where Kerrin is. It wasn’t necessarily the end of the world but R’nd didn’t want anyone getting caught by a stray rock from Ronarth’s attack on the building or get too close and end up under foot or dragon food.

But the poor Northerners would be terrified and a calm bluerider would be best to show them all would be okay but they should go admire the river. It was lovely at this time of the season, honest!

[sup]This topic has been split off here for all Candidates, and any Weyrfolk or Dragonriders that want to tag along[/sup]

It had been a whole turn since Talian's unfortunate run-in with J'ver. He didn't dwell on it like he once had, though he got a bit of amusement from the fact that he recovered from sexual assault faster than kidnapping. Even so, he tried his best not to leave the healing hall after dark.

This evening, like so many over the past turn, Talian bribed one of his 'coworkers' to bring him his dinner and a bit of wine while he sat in his office, cheerfully going through notes and planning the further cataloging of his increasingly-excessive plant collection. Talian didn't care about the plants for their beauty or their scents, but strictly their medical usage. He'd been happily working on a journal of the south's medicinal plants ever since the anniversary of his suicide attempt, when his beloved father figure had inadvertently given him the idea.

That, coupled with Talian's new-found life quest to cure numbweed allergies, gave the young man the goals he so desperately needed. Talian could sit and hum in his office for hours on end, browsing through his collection and jotting down new ideas.

Like most evenings, he had a mug oh klah in one hand and his newest, closest companion curled lightly in his lap. Talian set the mug down in between sips to lightly stroke the little blue fire lizard, who purred softly at the touch. Talian and Fellis had become inseparable. The little creature depended on Talian so fully!

Tal truly adored Fellis. He was the perfect little friend, gentle and unconditionally caring. The healer wasn't sure he was comfortable with the bond at first, but as time went on and he learned to adapt to the new presence, he found it amazingly comforting. It eased his anxiety concerning candidacy a great deal; Tal still didn't think he wanted a dragon since that would most likely mean the end of his career, but it no longer seemed like the end of the world. Maybe he really had been wrong about them.

"Good boy," Talian said softly as he stroked the tiny creature. He'd been working hard to train the little creature. Fellis understood going between to locations at a command now, and was quickly learning to pick up and hold items. It seemed backwards at first, but Talian would remember seeing babies going between within seconds of birth at the lake. Of course his clever little boy knew how to do it, too!

Tal was busy preening himself over his work when he felt a sudden stab of fear from Fellis. The healer looked down, worried. "What is it, little guy?" he asked. Fellis was nervous, but this was bizarre. The little beast shut up the front of Talian's shirt, tiny claws scratching and digging unintentionally into his skin. "Fellis?" Tal asked, placing his hands over the quivering lump under his shirt and frowning.

"Fellis?"


Something was wrong. Tal closed his eyes and imagined Valerian's hut, silently willing his little friend to flee. Fellis was reluctant, but also unwilling to disappoint Daddy. The fire lizard vanished, and moments later Talian received mental confirmation that the poor thing had arrived safely.

What was that commotion outside?

Talian lifted a glowbasket and headed out into the hallway. He walked towards the entrance hall, where he could hear people prattling in panic over some patient who'd stumbled inside. His pace quickened. Another emergency?

A horrible voice tore through Talian's mind. He shouted in fright and pitched himself into a wall, quivering for a moment as the angry dragon's words boomed across the Weyr.

A dragon was on a rampage? The rider must be in distress. From the sound of it, Talian suspected it wasn't an accident.

He took off, running down the hall at a full sprint. He saw the limp form of the Weyrleader being pulled form the floor by some of the others healers. Talian grimaced. The Weyrleader? Talian was no expert in Weyr politics, but it didn't take much thought to piece this together.

The healer pushed a door open and rushed inside, clearing the room for the others. Before he could call out to them, however, he was knocked off his feet for a horrible crash. Talian screamed in shock as the dragon threw himself into the building outside. Tal cursed, clinging to the door and pulling himself back to his feet. "Other wing! Other wing!" he screamed into the darkened hallway.

Dust filled the room as the enraged dragon slammed into the building again. Talian's entire body shook with the impact and he came dangerously close to wetting himself. He was terrified. The dragon's fury assaulted him both physically and mentally, but Talian refused to obey his quivering legs and fall back to the floor.

This, without a doubt, was a stupid way to die.

He threw himself into the hallway, heart pounding and blood surging. He made it only a few feet before another crash dislodged parts of the ceiling. Talian grunted as a clump of debris struck him in the shoulder. His skin tore and his bones ground together, drawing an additional hiss from the young man as he stumbled into the wall. His eyes flashed back down the hallway, where the others already taken D'ren to a room in the adjacent wing of the building, far away from Ronarth's destruction.

Talian gripped his shoulder and ran, both determined and, at this point, frightened out of his mind. He panted pitifully as he rounded the corner and found the others, all of whom were gathered in fear around the convulsing Weyrleader.

Talian grimaced ad pushed his way through. D'ren was covered in blood and looked as pale as Talian had ever seen him. "There are no wounds," one of the other healers whispered to Talian as he stood there, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and eyeing the Weyrleader.

There was a moment of hesitation. This was the man responsible for ruining Talian's life, far more responsible than poor B'jin. Of course, Talian no longer wished to find such fault in B'jin, so it was only natural to shift it to the man in charge. D'ren had been kind to Talian, though, and his empathy seemed so sincere. The healer scowled.

It didn't matter who it was. He needed help! Tal nodded to the other healer and dove into the excited chatter with the others, quickly voicing his initial instinct: poison. The dragon's words revealed that someone had done with, and without wounds, poison was the only likely culprit.

The others started to argue about the possible toxins, but as Tal watched the man writhe and wretch, he already though he had a solid idea. Talian swallowed hard.

"It's Tansy," he announced. It was satisfying to see the others spring into action as his words, but it took a moment of coaxing to get his own muscles to respond as well. This was no time for bad memories, but Talian was certain that he would have nightmares later.

He and the others got to work. It was going to be a long night.

If anyone else wants to be a patient or healer in the hall, have at it!