Blackrock Weyr

[GameMaster]

The meeting room for the riders was enormous: the stone table was set in a long-running depression into the cavern floor, with once fine chairs whose upholstery was definately in need of repair. The rest of the room was dedicated to ledges, enough to bear at least three hundred dragons, probably more. Sitting at the head of the table, his boots crossed on the top, M'ler could feel all the ones that used to be there in his bones, rustling and flapping, crooning to each other. Now, only his bronze Iromyth was there, commanding the nicest of the ledges, and when the other few filed in, there would still be so much echoing space. It was especially noticeable in the evening.

The weyrleader had a cup of wine, and that helped him compose himself for the meeting ahead. He had his ideas for the meeting set out, and a nicely written plan. Outside, he could hear T'dor ringing the meeting bell, the lowest pitched of them that echoed around the entire weyr, resonant in the dark. 'What had happened to the drummers,' M'ler thought, looking idly at the dark pit of the far off ceiling. Of course, they were dead, too.

[JadeFallon]

K'thal glanced up as he heard the low pitched bell that signaled a meeting. Sighing he mopped his forehead and stepped out of the mostly empty small smithy that he had been cleaning up. He wiped his face and as much of himself as he could down with a rag before donning his riding leathers, the way most riders had worn them to deal with the bitter cold, and stepped out mentally calling for Nimmath.

The bronze spiraled down and landed. I hear the summons as well, we attend. The bronze did not even ask, he knew his rider would not shirk on the duty that brewed in both of them.

K'thal nodded and using Nimmath's offered foreleg climbed up on him, the flight to the meeting hall was silent, K'thal had been wondering for a long time when the Weyrleader would call a meeting and what was to be done about the lack of candidates for the eggs. Nimmath landed in the entrance and he dismounted, the bronze picking a ledge on the other side of the room from the other large bronze, not out right saying his disgust for the change in personality of the Bronze.

K'thal nodded to the weyrleader and found his seat, trying to ignore the echoing silence of the large chamber and the disregard that M'ler seemed to be showing a meeting hall, though his eyebrow did twitch at the boots on the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J'som heard the bell as well and looked up bleary eyed from his chair in his weyr, setting down his wine goblet. "Well...damn" He muttered, pushing himself to his feet. "Wasn't plannin' on headin' out today..." He winced as he pulled at the minor thread score across his side but changed into clean clothes anyways and moved into the dragon's chambers, "Reiath! Duty calls!"

The dark blue looked over and snorted, Can you even stay on me for the trip down, mine? the dragon sounded amused.

"Shards, yes. If I can drink Seana under the thrice begreened table I can ride your damned hide across the bowl..." He scrabbled up the dragon's side with a fair amount of help from the dragon and Reiath flew out over the bowl. J'som did manage to stay on and when he landed in the council room he slipped off the beast and even looked mostly sober. With a nod to the Weyrleader he found is seat a few chairs down wondering what the meeting was about.

Reiath found a ledge and perched on it, peering around at the empty ledges, a brief sharp sense of grief filling the link, though the memories were just starting to fade from the dragon's mind, they were still painful. So many brothers and sisters lost...

[Seraph]

Seana sighed when she heard the bell, looking up from where she was watching her distillery perk and bubble away, slowly draining its strengthened contents into a pail at the other end of the contraption. She stood up from it, and ruffled her shortish hair before throwing on a jacket and going over to where Leth had shaken himself up, yawning widely and stretching out his lanky frame.

"Come on, grimjaws." Seana tapped his leg, and the blue lowered himself down so that she could mount up. "Looks like the weyrleader finally pulled his head together."

"Hold on." Leth flexed his wings a few times, loosening up, then turned and glided out of their weyr, making a lazy circle around the weyr bowl. Seana spotted Reith's dark hide disappear into the dragonrider's meeting room, and smirked at their somewhat wobbly course as Leth angled towards the same place. The blue glided in gracefully, close enough to the ground that Seana could slide off and drop before the dragon beat his wings, swooping up to land beside his friend. He immediately sat down, crossing his foreclaws over the other leg and flicking his glossy wings over his sides.

"Hoi." Seana raised a hand to K'thal, and nodded to M'ler, frowning slightly at the odd...nonchalance? about her weyrleader. She plopped down bonelessly next to J'som, and smirked as she caught the whiff of wine about him and the slightly lazy look to his eye. "That's the way to be, for sure."

After a few more minutes, T’balt and Aurykoth entered the chamber. The agile green soared around the perimeter of the cavern, and landed, hopping gracefully and letting her rider down before fluttering up to her own ledge, across from Nimmath. She dipped her head to the other dragons present before settling down, withdrawing to daydream in her usual manner, her eyes a pale, contented blue in the dim of the chamber. T’balt walked over to the table, taking the place at the end reserved for greenriders, and bowed his head to the weyrleader briefly. “Good even, ah?” He smiled at K’thal, and for a moment, his face lit up before he turned a more platonic smile to Seana and J’som. Seana raised a hand laconically. “How’re you, brush head?”

T’balt chuckled at her, and sighed dramatically. “Oh, this and that. Good, I think.” His smile turned a little quirky. “And you, lady? You have a look of trouble about you.”

“Too right, that.” She grinned back at him. “Looking pretty yourself, these days.”

"You only say that because Aury is so close to rising." T'balt mock-scoffed, looking coy, and Seana's smile turned delberately predetory. She waggled her eyebrows, and the two riders laughed before glancing at the weyrleader, who seemed to be paying no attention.

Danavas had left the infirmary shortly after the bell had rang, walking with his usual purposeful stride through the weyr proper. He had only paused in his quarters to clean up and don a fresh crafter’s jacket over the tunic he had been working in, and arranged the knots neatly on his shoulder as he walked. Kutha squeeked excitedly when they entered the meeting room as the little brown spotted the assembled dragons, and immediately flittered off excitedly, cheeping at Reith and Leth, then Aurykoth, before flying in a crazy circle around Nimmath’s head, chittering at the bronze. He balked at going near Iromyth, whose eyes took a slight red glint that veered the little lizard from his course, back to talk to the pair of blues. The Senior Healer inclined his head to M’ler, and took his seat. “Good evening, weyrleader M’ler.” His tone was clipped, always formal and slightly flat, not bothering or sensing that he ought to put any expression in his voice.

[ix_tab]

R'dak was polishing his latest jewelery piece, a band made of gold that he had twisted into an almost tortured shape. He intended it to be worn by Moonglum, his rather delicate Gold firelizard. She had a taste for jewelery that his dragon did not share, and it amused him to adorn her.

The signal for a meeting tolled out, shattering his calm and he sighed. He'd been expecting and dreading the meeting. The post-plague calm had to be shattered by something. Goronth snorted.

"Let us take to the skies, mine." Goronth nuzzled at R'dak's unmoving form.

"Should we wait for S'jeeq and Zenith, though?" R'dak mindspoke wistfully. He knew that S'jeeq would do something to enrage the Weyrleader if he was allowed to go by himself. Goronth snorted in amusement.

"The boy and Zenith will be fine. They are our mates, not our hatchlings," the large dragon chided gently. R'dak sighed again. He knew he had a habit of coddling S'jeeq, but he couldn't help it. He just worried that his impetuous, loud mouthed lover would one day annoy the people in charge more then they presumed him worth.

He need not have fretted though, as a familiar pale green streak shot past, and S'jeeq's high pitched voice echoed annoyingly.

"Hey hey, you slow lumps will be executed by our wise leader if you don't start moving." S'jeeq grinned, smiling viciously. If there was one thing that got the smaller man's blood up, other than being right or sex, it was flying. He exulted in the feel of the air, and was all too fond of death defying drops that set R'dak's heart aching.

"Take wing, my loves!" Cooed Zenith, her normally acid manner tempered by being in the air. As he mounted Goronth, he realised that he was noticing this mood of S'jeeq's so much because they had been out so infrequently recently. He made a note to make sure they had substantial air time allotted every day.

The worries of plague, and the upcoming Hatching, and Thread had made it hard to see past surviving day to day. Perhaps the meeting would bring about an end to that mentality and they could start working on actually living again.

"I would like to go and tell Leliel about the meeting, dearheart." R'dak said, pausing to fiddle with the straps on Goronth's harness. S'jeeq rolled his pale blue eyes.

"As it happens, we saw that woman waddling her way up to the council rooms. She'll get there before us if we don't hurry," S'jeeq said and then with a crack of her wings Zenith shot off into the sky, a brilliant bright green blur. With a rueful smile painted on his handsome face, R'dak and Goronth followed her up, at a less breakneck speed.

Knocking against each other playfully, the two Riders landed in the meeting room, S'jeeq and Zenith with more grace then their partners. S'jeeq noted that the room was too dark, and dirty, and sniffed. For some reason, the majority of the population dying off had caused a severe lack of the riders that S'jeeq could tolerate. He plonked himself down in a chair with a lack of aplomb. R'dak sat next to him, smiling friendly at the rest of the room's inhabitants.

~~~~~~


Leliel had been woken from her slumber by the bell, and for a chilling second she thought that it was the plague bell once again. But her brain caught up with her ears, and she groaned, and scratched around next to her, where she had thrown her outer clothes.

"Lelsk!" She called, and the large golden wher plodded into view, contently chewing on something. She decided not to ask.

"Lelsk is ready for adventuring!" The wher said staunchly. Leliel laughed a little sadly.

"I'm afraid, my dear that this will not be the sort of adventuring you are looking for." She wrapped a shawl around herself, for she seemed to feel the cold bitterly lately, and they began the climb to the council chambers.

They stopped once or twice so that Leliel could take a rest, and so that Lelsk could try to eat the wall.

When they arrived, Leliel saw that the room already had many of the few dragon riders that were left contained within. She nodded a polite aknowledgement towards M'ler and then, leaving Lelsk to snuffle around the room, she made her way over to where R'dak sat.

[GameMaster]

M'ler looked up as Leliel made her way into the council chamber, finally snapping out of his reverie. He frowned slightly, but doubted that she would be as headstrong as usual, now that she was with child. That annoying Harper wasn’t there, which improved his mood a notch: Goren was too opinionated for his own good.

He waited for a while longer as some of the other riders filtered in. Eventually, there were about twenty gathered, including T’dor, who glided in on Calornth at the last minute. The riders were mostly silent: friendly to each other, but worn looking and quiet. A few had dressings and one sported an eyepatch from the last threadfall. The dragons all took their perches, silent except for the rustling of wings. The three bronzes occupied the highest shelves, the other colours the lower: they only had the two blues, now, with the rest green and brown.

“Everyone.” M’ler’s voice was calm, self-assured, and he took his boots off the table, sitting up straight in his chair, his hands resting on the tabletop. “If you please, I would begin the meeting.” He sounded as he usually did: smooth, polite, a touch arrogant, no hint of his outburst only a few hours ago in his mien. He looked over the assembled riders, shadowed in the light from the glowbaskets around the chamber.

“As you see, we are in an unfortunate position.” M’ler spoke after everyone had settled, folding his hands. “Only the watchriders and those injured are not here, and yet, we only number a score and two. T’dor assures me that we are due another threadfall in only a few weeks. Last count, we had approximately six candidates for our late queen’s clutch. We are in a rather dire situation.” He stood up, and leant forward. “The other weyrs cannot help us. Now that the disease has passed only we, the last of Blackrock, can help ourselves.”

“The first agenda, of course, is candidates.” The weyrleader shifted his chair back, beginning to pace. “I am choosing two teams. Seana, J’som, R’dak; you are all to scour the river valley and pick up any child you see. L'mor, U'rel, Y'ten, you are to approach the major holds. You are to take them by any means nessecary.” He looked over to the blue and brown riders, his expression hardening. “The next order is that everyone, and I mean everyone, under the age of eighteen turns in this weyr is to stand on the sands come hatching day.”

“Once that is done, and we have enough children, there will undoubtedly be some left over. And that is where my next plan comes in.” The weyrleader paused a moment for effect, and smiled slightly. “I have a plan to repopulate the weyr.” He looked directly at T’balt, and something passed through his eyes. “You, lad. I assume you have obeyed my orders, and young Aurykoth has not chewed firestone yet?”

T’balt glanced around the table, and looked back at him, nodding. “Yes, weyrleader…but…”

“Excellent.” The gleam in M’ler’s eye got more noticeable, and he tapped a finger on the stone tabletop. “Then all is going to plan so far. She is due to rise, soon…you know that, don’t you?”

The young man nodded, chewing his lip, not sure that he liked the look on the weyrleader’s face.

“Aurykoth is to be effectively treated as the new queen, until Hulroth’s queen egg is hatched and she is mature enough to rise.” M’ler blinked, his voice firm. “She is currently the only fertile female dragon in the weyr, and so she ought to be treated with proper respect. Now –“ he held up a hand to ward off any outbursts until he was done. “We must have her flown for the best clutch possible. Even if it’s only blue and green that results, they are our future. She will be flown in competition between the bronzeriders, and none other.”

[JadeFallon]

K'thal was shocked into silence by the Weyrleader's decrees. Raiding for candidates?! The dragonriders reduced to common thieves? His shoulders stiffened and he hadn't realized he had been gripping the chair arms tightly untill he heard them crack briefly, "You would reduce us to thieves?" he asked, supprised his voice was calm, his eyes narrowed, "You would anger the holds, our only source of stable resources, and possisably have them turn on us?" His voice was quiet, but the anger in it was intense.

His jaw clenced harder as he digested the rest of the information, "A green in the middle of a bronze flight, Even Aurykoth, would be torn apart by the males, you know that, M'ler" His worry for T'balt was causing him to speak up, combined with his worry for the weyr as a whole. "If this scheme of yours fails we will be one more rider down come threadfall." He refused to look over at T'balt, and Nimmath up above mantled his wings, his eyes starting to whirl yellow with hints of red anger in them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
J'som was shocked into silence, his jaw part way open as he sobered up real quick, raiding? I mean it could be fun and all but... He leaned over to Seana sitting near him and murmured, "This... this isn't right, Seana." For once the playful, troublesome rider was serious, his words soft under the din of the other rider's and their shocked talking. "I mean, I know we're in bad straits and all but..."

[Seraph]

T’balt immediately paled: he’d had a notion that something was going on when he was originally told not to let Aurykoth chew firestone, but…he looked up at the three bronzes: each one was half again the size of his dragon, and he did not like the red look in Iromyth’s eyes. One of them scattering the other males after being worn out in a queen flight was one thing, but three healthy bronzes chasing a single green, competing over her? He stood up at K’thal’s outburst as well, his eyes flashing. “No! I refuse! I will not have her hurt!”

“You do not have the choice, Greenrider.” M’ler’s voice suddenly hardened, and he put scornful emphasis on T’balt’s title, drawling a little. “It is an order, not a suggestion.”

“No!” T’balt’s face contorted, and he remained standing, furious. “She cannot outfly them. If she does not collapse from exhaustion, then she will be injured…”

“Greenrider. You have no say in the matter.” The weyrleader stood, a good inch taller and far broader than the young man. “Nor do you, K’thal. You hold no authority in the weyr except as counsel, which I refuse. As to your assertion about the holds…”

“I. said. no.” T’balt growled, his usual pleasant demeanour gone: the temper that underpinned his energetic nature was out full force, bringing with it a burst of courage. “You can take your stupid plan, and shove it up your tail, gajo.”

“You will comply, or I will finish what the plague started with you, boy.” M’ler made to stalk around the table, finally losing his own temper. He halted as Aurykoth snarled, hunching on her ledge, her tail whipping back and forth as she mantled, ready to leap down and defend her rider. Her snarl was broken by the sound of a much larger one, and Iromyth stalked to the lip of his own ledge: he was easily the largest dragon in the weyr now, but like her rider, Aurykoth refused to back down. She hissed at the bronze defiantly, her eyes whirling crimson, but M’ler stopped his advance, a strange smile on his face as all the meeting room began to rustle with nervous, edgy dragons.

“And there is your answer, T’balt.” The weyrleader chuckled, and held his hands up, moving back. “Iromyth tells me that if you and your dragon do not obey your weyrleader, he will make it so that she cannot rise at all, and he will chase her on the ground like a wher.” He looked straight at him. “Have no doubt that we can find her, wherever you go. Are we understood, greenrider?”

“We will go between before I let him touch her, you bastard.” T’balt’s voice carried cold, certain fury: he didn’t have M’ler’s skill with the sword or knife, and he wasn’t sure that K’thal did, either. “I swear by the Egg and my own clan name that I will turn my own knife on myself first.”

”We leave now, mine.” Aurykoth gave one last snarl at Iromyth, as furious as her rider, and went between, appearing behind T’balt. He spat on the floor in M’ler’s direction, then ran over, swinging himself up dexterously before the pair leapt between again, vanishing from the meeting. In the shocked silence that followed, M’ler sighed.

“Honestly. What a fuss.” He resumed his seat. “Needless to say, K’thal, if you decide to interfere, the same result will occur. I have no wish to put another dragon from the air, but that was Iromyth’s suggestion, not mine. I am sure they could sact as ground crew, in that case.” He didn’t look over at the bronzerider. “Now, as I was saying, the fact we have no candidates here already is testament to the holds’ insubordination. Saving all their living children from the plague, no doubt…however, the plague is past, and we need our tithe. You six will leave on the morrow.” He waved a finger at Seana, J’som and R’dak: Seana, at least, had gone cold and pale looking, her face blank of emotion or expression. The rest of the riders seemed torn: some of the ones that had supported M’ler over the years were looking grim, but determined, while others varied between horrified and contemptuous. Danavas looked much as he always did, but his light grey eyes were almost white with whatever he was feeling as he made mental notes on the state of the weyrleader, and what he was going to report to the healer’s hall in Fort. T’dor looked bemused, as if he hadn’t heard anything amiss.

[JadeFallon]

The temperature around K'thal dropped several degrees as his eyes narrow, "You overstep your position as leader of us M'ler." He growled as T'balt left. "You are supposed to lead us in protecting people, not threatening weyrlings with mutilation. You.." His gaze lifted to the Bronze, disgust evident in his eyes, "Or your excuse for a Dragon." He snarled, "You want to ruin us, fine. As T'balt has mentioned. Your beast will not touch Aurykoth. And if she is to be treated as a queen, with all of those afore mentioned rights, then whoever catches her will be the new weyrleader." His hand was resting on his knife at his hip and for once he did not care about the law. "And I say that when someone else takes that position from you, myself or another, I will be glad. If this is all, madman. I will depart."

Nimmath's eyes whirled red in anger to match that of his chosen's as he rumbled, he didn't care if the other bronze was larger than he, to say that about another dragon... You are not one of us, I value the whers above you, once-brother He landed on the ground for his rider to mount up, his disgust apparent before he and K'thal vanished as well while their short reign on what was left of their temper held.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J'som was shocked into silence, paling as well at the Weyrleader's words. The hell was the man thinking?! He sunk back in his chair, unable to do much of fucking anything at the moment, knowing he and Reiath, as much as they could scrap with the best of them, did not stand a chance against the man or the bronze. But this was not right. He swallowed, long since sobered up, the hell could he do about it? Even the few browns remaining were stronger than him sadly and most of them still would be siding with the obviously impaired weyrleader. Life just got complicated.

[Haranja]

Krehval sighed, doodling on the pages he had brought for notes. Meetings were so tedious, and they were almost never called to make good announcements. He knew only bad news would be revealed at this meeting. He only half-listened to the Weyrleader's instructions for the Searchriders, alternating between drawing frowny-faces on his paper and scratching Tempo, who was perched on his shoulder, behind the eye ridges.

Of course, the idea of Searching all children was ridiculous. Some of them might be disabled or insane. Not that insanity mattered much to M'ler. Krehlor didn't speak up, though. He doubted the Weyrleader would listen. No one ever listened to him.

M'ler's next suggestion managed to penetrate his cynical ennui. His head snapped up, and he glared at the Weyrleader, looking away only to take in T'balt and K'thal's horrified reactions. He waited until M'ler had given the rest of his stupid instructions, and then he stood, his chair screeching horribly on the stone floor. Tempo tightened his claws around Krehlor's shoulder, his eyes whirling with distress. "Anyone with decent knowledge of Pernese history and records--" Kre paused, implying that M'ler obviously didn't-- "Would know that harming a dragon is among the most abominable of offenses. I realize I have no power to stop you, but the Weyrs are not the only institutions on Pern. If you want the support of the most..." He paused again, glancing at Danavas, "One of the most powerful Halls on Pern, I would suggest you take a more civil tone with your Green rider."

[morriganscrow]

In a niche, high above the humans, a small bronze Firelizard sat, hunched and silent. His brilliant jewelled eyes whirled madly, red and poisonous yellow, in response to his friend's thoughts. The big Harper was enraged, furious, and his mindlink to the bronze was making the little creature equally angry.
Every word spoken below had passed through the Firelizard to his human friend, and Goren, the Senior Harper, now made his way out of the lower caverns, and called for Clef to join him.
Immediately the little bronze flickered between and reappeared hovering above the Harper. He backwinged gracefully, landing on the big man's padded right shoulder, his eyes slowing and changing to a dark blue of resolve.
Goren stroked him absently, deep in thought, his sickened rage banked but not gone.
In the past, secret to all but the Masterharper of Pern and his chosen few, there was a tradition of political assassination. Long laid dormant, perhaps it was time for it to be reborn....