Fiendish Family Fun (T'kar/Ghost) {NA-GC}

[Cait]

Shortly after dinner | Lower Caverns & Training Yard | 3075.08.04

DISCLAIMER: There is VIOLENCE

Today was one of the days that T'kar had set aside to teach her wherlings advanced sword technique which meant that while she couldn't exactly sleep in--not that she would be capable of it even if she could technically sleep in--she was able to make her rounds and check on the condition of the quickly growing young whers. While some might question her own brusque treatment of her Crimson or her general distaste for anything draconic, it would never be said that she allowed her charges to slack on the care and keeping of their companions. It was perhaps the fact that she was so stern with the young guards that gave away the fact that she truly cared.

Of course there were a number of other things that gave her away as well, as two young men in fresh from the North would discover after asking around. While Dalonia slipped into den after den and constantly shooed the obnoxiously possessive Thief and Pest from her shoulders, two dark haired and clearly related men lurked around the slowly clearing dining hall asking questions about the Weyr's surly Senior Wherhandler. Apparently not only had Derron and Elarren not heard from their sister in almost six months, but in that time apparently their sister had been quite busy. Far too busy to send Barrek any updates and there had been updates, apparently that he most certainly would have wanted to know about.

Not only had she been made Wherlingmaster in that time but, as one particularly charming lower cavern worker informing them, she'd apparently come to the rescue of that bothersome Abyss and her rider, an incident that had quickly escalated to an attack on the Weyrleader which Dalonia had intercepted. Apparently she'd been stabbed in the process; something that Barrek would no doubt have been interested to know. There was a lot of potential to manipulate a man in power with an act like that. According to the lower cavern woman, the Weyrleader and Wherhandler "were more nice like to one another, an the Weyrleader even helped out with them wherlings", another thing that would have been good to know. She'd also gotten a promotion to Senior Wherleader after that as well; also something that would've been good to know.

That wasn't all of it either. Apparently one of the weyrlings had gotten herself kidnapped not even two weeks ago and the Weyrleader had gone to Dalonia first and brought her with him. Now the woman was babbling on and on about how Dalonia had made sure that all the weyrlings and queens were all safe and protected and she'd gone riding off on that handsome RR Flame with the Weyrleader. Not only had she brought the weyrling back but she had truly become an agent of the weyr. By all accounts she had betrayed her family. There were two things you could do about that according to Barrek and the Jindarex boys and they were here to do one or the other; the outcome would be up to their dear little sister.

After thanking the lower cavern woman and telling her that they were visiting relatives come to visit for a belated birthday, they were given directions to the caverns in the outer ring of the weyr that served as dens for the whers. It was long overdue that they pay a visit to their sister and it was all the better that she had no idea they were coming. Ellaren chuckled and gave his older brother a nudge as they slipped into the dimly lit cavern and tunnel system that was inhabited by the whers of the weyr. "It'll be just like old time, yeah?"

"Oh yeah, like old times." Derron said with a devious smirk. It didn't take long once they found the section of dens that were actually occupied to locate their sister and when they discerned which den she was in, they pressed themselves against the walls and waited. She was in there complaining about something, talking to one of them foul-smelling beasts no doubt. The second she walked out of the door though, Derron pounced, grabbing her by the arm, ducking her wild attempt at a punch and twisting her around, wrenching her arm viciously behind her back then clamping a hand over her mouth as she went to let out a throaty should.

Before they realized what was going on, three very irate firelizards filled their air with their alarmed screeches though the smallest of them, a little blue one nearly as dark as night, clipped her wing on the wall and tumbled to the ground. Quick as you please, Ellaren stooped down, snatched up little Klutz and silenced her spastic cries with a sharp twist of her little head. Thief and Pest popped between, terrified and Dalonia stilled, her eyes going wide when her brother tossed the little DarkBlue aside like so much trash, she began to thrash again despite the pain of her arm being pulled up behind her back at an angle it didn't quite care to be pulled in. With muffled screams of rage she kicked her legs up trying to unbalance Derron, she lashed out at Ellaren but both her brothers simply chuckled. Ellaren stepped forward and avoiding her kicking legs, punched her hard enough in the stomach to knock the wind out of her then set about expertly disarming her. Once momentarily subdued they dragged her down the wide hall to one of the unoccupied dens that they'd found before.

Derron shoved her with such force that she hit the ground hard and rolled several times before springing up to her feet, eye wild and gasping for air. How had she ever for a minute thought that she could escape them? She felt like a helpless child again, cornered by her grinning brothers as they "taught her about the hardships of life" and "made her stronger for it". In the back of her mind she felt Dalosk's rage begin to build. Given what she'd just seen her brother do to her firelizard she sent a command to the Crimson with such force that his hind legs caved and he promptly sat though he wasn't going to stay quiet; the corridors were filled with the sound of enraged growling and the nervous sounds of the other whers. Never mind that her wher could probably kill her brothers in a matter of seconds, she couldn't think straight, she never could when it came to these two.

"What..." She wheezed only to be cut off by laughter.

"You stopped writing dear sister," Derron began as he stalked forward. She didn't know when he'd drawn it, but there was now a wicked looking knife in her hand; she recognized that knife. Her skin began to crawl and Dalonia backed up to the wall, edging to the side as he continued his slow approach while Ellaren hung back by the door, only partially focused on the game of feline and mouse. "We got worried about you."

Dalonia opened her mouth to let loose the torrent of excuses then clenched her jaw. She wouldn't! Derron raised a brow as he pressed a fingertip to the blade's tip and twisted it, not so much as wincing as he broke the skin and looked down, milking his finger until a small pool of blood gathered. He paused in his approach and Dalonia continued to inch to the side. "Over six months and not a word from ya, and ya've nothing to say for yerself?"

Dalonia, finally able to drag breath into her lungs, she launched herself away from the wall and made a mad dash for the entrance, fully intending to barrel past Ellaren and run like Thread was at her heels. Derron knew her too well, he'd "trained" her after all, hadn't he? With two quick, light side steps he grabbed her by the back of her vest and gave a fierce jerk and while Dalonia was unbalanced he used the full weight of his body to slam her face first into the wall. Sliding his blade beneath the vest he slowly began to cut through the leather, poking her roughly with the blade when she squirmed. When the vest was finally cut through, Derron stared at the small stains of blood here and there where he'd pricked her and slowly began to grin and leaned in. "What are we gonna do with ya girl?

Dalonia growled and jerked her head back, slamming it into Derron's face. She could almost feel his nose crunch against her skull and shoved away from the wall as her brother reeled back and clutched at his nose and swiped at her even with his eyes filling with tears. The blade sliced through the tunic and skin of her back like a dull knife through fat and she hiss as she spun around. Ellaren lurched towards her as Derron shouted incoherently, his words muffled and distorted just as much by his bloodied nose as his hand. Somewhere in the warren of dens, Dalosk let out an enraged sound that bordered on a howl.

Ellaren grabbed for her as she half ran, half stumbled towards the entrance. His hand closed like iron around her wrist and she used his grip as leverage to deliver a right hook, eyes wild and face set in determination. She wasn't going to let them do this anymore. She wasn't going to let them ruin this place where she'd finally found a niche. She wasn't going to let them turn her into a cowering, worthless little girl anymore. She'd survived them this long and she wasn't about to be snuffed out. Here she had power and she was important and she did good. Derron and Ellaren were a threat to every single one of those things she'd come to hold dear.

Her fist connected with her brother's jaw with enough force to split her knuckles and snap his head to the side. Stunned for just a second, it was all Dalonia needed to wrench her wrist free and knee him in the man bits then shove him aside. She was out the door and tearing down the corridor as though she were fleeing for her life--and if they caught her it would be her life, she was sure of it--her only asset being she knew these tunnels and corridors like the back of her hand, in the pitch black of night. Releasing the Crimson from her hold, Dalosk's first instinct was to hunt down and mutilate Derron and Ellaren, but another swift command sent him running as swiftly as he could to the opening she came blazing out of. She stumbled briefly, bouncing off the Crimson and regaining her stride after a few awkward, lurching steps.

She didn't stop running even when the training yard came into view. Ancalanath was off to the side and even in her half panicked, half traumatized, entirely messed up mind, she didn't want to be seen in such a state, not by her wherlings and not by T'kar. Veering towards the massive, brightly colored dragon, she ran head on towards him, not even bothering to slow down as she darted between his front legs and put up her arms to brace herself as her momentum had her slamming into his belly and rebounding, landing on her backside. She was beyond panting and was in truth hyperventilating as she lay sprawled on her back for a moment only to roll onto her hands and knees and emptied every last thing she'd eaten for dinner from her stomach. Dalosk was right behind Dalonia, positioning himself, regardless of the RR Flame's reaction, in front of the gap between his legs and anyone else who got near, a near constant rumble coming from the back of his throat as he kept his jaw partially gaped and teeth exposed.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ancalanath had seen a great many things, and, though by nature quick to anger, was pretty hard to ruffle once he had decided to act, a decision that normally didn’t take long. He had been sitting down, watching the Wherlings at their drill, when suddenly a human came hurtling out into the training yard and kept running, a handful of steps in front of Dalosk and clearly fleeing pursuit from two other humans.

Startled, Ancalanath flung his head up. The violence radiating away from the pursuers would have been enough, unexpected like this, but, the human fleeing was clearly, unmistakably Dalonia. She veered towards him, and the other humans slowed, clearly not wanting to enter the yard. Well, he would just make sure they didn’t! Daring to come here and chase the Sr. WherHandler who had saved his rider! He would show them!

Noticing Dalonia’s impact on his belly no more than he would have that of a trundle-bug, the mighty RR Flame brought his head and neck down, placing his head in front of the much smaller Crimson wher and opening his mouth with a truly earth-shaking roar.

He didn’t bother with words, words were for people, not insects, not vermin. The vermin turned and ran away, and well they should! Ancalanath’s smallest teeth, the incisors at the very front of his mouth, were close to three feet long, the size of a tall man’s torso.

Meanwhile, T’kar broke off the drill. He’d already made it plain that, like Dalonia, he expected the lot of them to keep fighting even when Ancalanath roared. It was one of the reasons Ancalanath was down here, actually, but this roar hadn’t been scheduled, hadn’t been pre-arranged, and when T’kar noticed the Crimson wher against Ancalanath’s front legs...

“Continue drilling,” T’kar ordered, stepping back and walking over to Ancalanath.

What happened? he asked the RR Flame, taking in the gradually slowing whirl of his partners solid red eyes.

For an answer, Ancalanath curved his neck around, pointing with his head at the space behind his front legs, at Dalonia, and showed T’kar the image of Dalonia running, as well as the pursuit.

T’kar immediately turned around. “Pair up, this is not a drill.” Quickly he sketched in the general appearance of the two man who had been pursuing Dalonia.

“Find them and stop them leaving. I’d prefer them be alive, but that is by no means necessary.” Checking his own armor and sword quickly, more from habit than anything else, he stated towards the entrance that Dalonia had come out of.

[Cait]

With her stomach purged, Dalonia scooted back until she was pressed up against Ancalanath's stomach then proceeded to wedge herself in the corner made between underbelly and thigh, flinching when he let out a bone-shaking bellow of absolute rage. Stubby little wings unfurled and tail lashing from side to side, Dalosk added his own, raspier voice to the cry then swinging his head around, mouth still gaping open to showcase bone crushing teeth, he stared for a long moment at his handler. He'd never before seen her so shaken. It made him uncertain and that in turn made him angry. So not only was he angry at Dalonia's brothers for hurting her but he was angry at them for making him uncertain. Double angry Crimson was never a good thing.

When T'kar ordered the wherlings to pair up, he started forward. He was going on the hunt as well and there was no way the dragonman was getting the two back alive if he was the one to catch them. With a rattling bellow, he called out to Misk and the little toothless fiend galloped across the practice grounds to fall in beside him, eyes whirling with apprehension.

When Ancalanath twisted his head around, Dalonia pressed back into her little corner and closed her eyes. The darn dragon could crush her for all she cared. All he'd have to do was lay down and she'd be gone. She wouldn't have to worry about ever seeing her wretched brothers again. Focusing on her breathing, she tried to slow her racing heart. She'd finally managed to settle her breathing when two dark blurs appeared above the RR Flame and creeling, dropped from the sky, swooping under the dragon's chest and slamming into the curled up woman, eyes near white with fear. For once Dalonia didn't push them away and piled one on top of the other, Thief and Pest wedged themselves into her arms. Her breath hitched again as their fear and grief washed over her and try as she might to stop it, the tears started. Fat, hot tears spilled down her cheeks and she curled around the brown and the young moonlight, ignoring the burning sensation across her back.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Ancalanath was completely confused. The only time he’d seen a human act this clinging-fightened had been when T’kar’s little sister had followed the boy out onto the Sands on his own Hatching day, desperate not to lose her brother. It was certainly not the reaction he expected from the tough and determinedly independent I-need-no-one nothing-scares-me Sr. Wherhandler.

Slowly, carefully, Ancalanath settled a little closer to the ground, watching as Dalonia’s flitts swooped in and wedged themselves into the woman’s arms, though the little DarkBlue was gone. Gently, Ancalanath tucked his head completely under his body and nudged Dalonia with his nose. Alyga had always relaxed for that, and it was wrong for a fighting member of the weyr, ultimately under his and his rider’s jurisdiction and authority, to feel so crushed as this one did.

T’kaar was oblivious to the interactions going on behind him in the training yard. He was on a mission, and the only thing he noticed was the arrival of Dalosk, with Misk, as usual, in attendance.

“Keep up,” he told Dalosk, then started off down the corridor. He was breaking his own rule, going in without backup, but for a pursuit like this there wasn’t time to try and call one in, not and get it organized properly.

Two corridors later, he was regretting that he didn’t speak watchwher a little better. Dalosk was great, but Misk? That silly creature was an absolute menace to success, for all that she was adorable. In fact, the Citrine Wher had gone missing. Again.

T’kar turned around another corridor, and his gaze caught on something laying by the wall. Quickly crossing over to it, he found himself staring down at the body of Dalonia’s little DarkBlue flitt.

For an instant, he just stood there, shock and even disbelief running through and over him. Why? The poor creature had only been trying to defend, it had no more fault in a fight than did a child.

A high-pitched squeaking squeal cut through the air, followed by a terrified bellow and several more squeaks, accompanied by the scrabbling, scratching sound of claws on stone.

T’kar straightened, spinning towards the sounds. What the… he thought, jogging towards the next corner.

“Sharddit Derron, hold it still!”

Scrabble, scrabble, thump, smack. Bellow! Squeal!

T’kar came around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Misk was being pinned by one of the men that Ancalanath had shown him, while the other tried to gut her with a knife. There was a pair of Wherlings who had just entered the corridor from another entrance, but there were exits between them and the two men. If he charged them, he could save Misk, but the men would probably escape. If he stood his ground, Misk would die, but the men would be captured.

Galdoc, why doesn’t Mommy like… the remembered conversation faded, but it was enough to decide T’kar.

Thread take it all!

Shouting, he charged forward, bringing his sword around to drive back the man holding Misk, and taking square in the upper thigh the knife meant for the wherling’s belly.

[Cait]

Dalonia flinched as Ancalanath twisted his head about and nudged her, instinctively curling tighter around Thief and Pest. The brown let out a muffled squeak and began to squirm, his claws catching in the woman's ruined shirt and shredding it further. Hesitating a moment, the wherhandler slowly uncurled and loosened her grip on her firelizards--she'd never wanted any of them but to see Klutz killed in front of her had revealed how much she'd come to care about them in her own way--and Thief scrambled out and clung to the woman's shoulder while Pest refused to budge from her arms.

Plauged by hiccups, the woman finally opened her eyes and stared at the RR Flame's nose. The last time she'd been this close to him, neither had been particularly happy and she'd ended up punching the damn dragon right on the snout. Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out shakily. Tears still ran unchecked down her cheeks and she looked a mess; lip split, mouth smeared with blood, runny nose and leaking eyes. Sniffling, her mind reeling with a combination of her own feelings, the rage of her wher and the abject terror of her firelizards, Dalonia couldn't do much more than sit there and stare Ancalanath as she cried. Even up North she'd never felt so utterly exposed and helpless before. She'd let her guard down--even if it had only been just enough to feel that she might belong--and they'd swooped in and dealt a shattering blow.

Meanwhile, as Dalosk and Misk caught up with T'kar, the Crimson snorted and let out a rattling hiss at the Weyrleader; last time the wher checked it was humans that had only two legs. Yes, that's right, the Crimson could count. Granted, not particularly high but he could! Once they were in the caverns, Dalosk began searching the various rooms and dens, both occupied and unoccupied while Misk scrambled ahead to do the same. It wasn't too long before Dalosk and T'kar came across the lifeless body of the little DarkBlue; Klutz. The Crimson wher lowered his head and nudged the limp form then let out a soft crooning sound. He'd never particularly liked the little thing but at the same time he'd only ever pretended to try and eat her.

The sound of a scuffle and the leader human tearing off around the corner startled Dalosk and he growled, though the sound turned into a bellow of rage when he heard little Misk cry out and squeal with fear. Bounding around the corner he skittered to a halt, large eyes fixing on the two men who scrambled to their feet and took off out the next closest exit. With a rattling hiss, he went to chase after them only to hesitate and flare his nostrils. Blood and ichor. Tail lashing, Dalosk watched as two of the wherlings and their handlers went after Dalonia's brothers but they wouldn't catch them. Derron and Ellaren were already halfway to their ride home, the disrespectful drudge girl along with them.

Swinging around, Dalosk growled again, the light casting particularly grim shadows on his face and making him look quite hostile. Lowering his head, he nuzzled little Misk with surprising gentleness. She'd taken a slash to the inside of her mouth when she'd tried to latch onto Ellaren and petite little thing, had easily been tackled and pinned by Derron. There were no serious injures though as far as he could tell; that wouldn't save Dalonia's brothers if they were caught.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

T’kar stared after the fleeing men, memorizing everything he could about them. If he ever saw those men again… Puzzled by something, he turned their faces over in his mind. They looked oddly familiar, but he couldn’t say from where. Shards, for all he knew, they could have been some Holdless guys he’d met as a kid. Certainly he’d known a few that would try just about anything for a few Marks. That just didn’t feel quite right though.

Growling, he turned his mind to his own surroundings. He yanked the knife out his leg and quickly tied a bandage around the wound, then turned and glanced at Misk, who was currently getting nosed by Dalosk.

The little Citrine’s mouth was filled with ichor and blood. It looked like she’d bit someone and gotten slashed for her pains.

“Come on Misk,” T’kar said, running a hand down the wherling’s side before scooping her up, one hand behind her back legs and the other in front of her front legs and under the front of her chest. “Let’s get you back and fixed up.”

Turning, he walked back towards the training yard, forcing himself not to limp too excessively on his injured leg. He made it there without the leg giving out, certainly a good sign, and still carrying Misk.

Do you still have Dalonia? T’kar asked Ancalanath, carrying the little Citrine over to the table where medical supplies where kept

Yes.

“Sit Misk,” T’kar said, setting the wherling down on the table and reaching for a container of water.

I am going to drink something after this. Then I am going to ask Dalonia about those two, and I am going to get answers too.

Ancalanath snorted. Maybe if you get her drunk.

You know, that’s not a bad idea.