[past] (Island, Outside) Pern deserves to be free! {plot}

[Kaya]

10.05.16

V'riaan crouched low to the ground, muscles tense and arrow knocked. As Weyrling Master he was one of the Weyr's top fighters, trained in the combat arts and teaching them to others. Nonetheless he felt vulnerable. Olynivaith wasn't with him and a lone DeathWing circled the edge of the island on patrol. Nothing had happened recently in the Weyr at and last they were starting to catch some of the warrior birds slacking as their leader took too much confidence in his position.

V'riaan was ready to strike today. Another quiet day or two and Bador would probably step up security anyway. The man had a healthy sense of paranoia...unfortunately. DeathWings had terrible mental communication skills, a price paid for their other overwhelming abilities V'riaan supposed. If they could take down one quickly without letting it alert the others or scream their plan would be a success. ...but that was a big if.

Life in a such a harsh Weyr mandated that weyrlings grow up fast. Traditionally dragonets had a leisurely eighteen months to mature. Not at Dark Mists. The weyrlings were twelve months old and if they wanted to survive they needed to be adults now. They weren't done growing but their power, under V'riaan's secretive training was unmatched. The CrimsonRider felt confident that these were Pern's strongest weyrlings. That was why Rinth was in charge of the bolder. Olynivaith was bigger, so he would come in first. They just had to time it right...

The one lone DeathWing circled lazily in his patrol. V'riaan had been watching him for the past half hour. The bird always flew in the exact same pattern.

We strike on my command, V'riaan thought to his Crimson. They tensed just as the longbow string did, tighter, straining to be ready, willing themselves to execute this job perfectly.

SNAP!

The arrow loosed itself and screamed toward the dark bird. V'riaan took another arrow from R'kor, who was hiding behind him. The Rider looked back in time to see the arrow hit home. A good shot.

Now! V'riaan thought, but he hoped Oly was already on his way.

The huge Crimson appeared in the sky next to the reeling bird. His claws sped towards its face, hoping to disable its deadly voice. The DeathWing looked on with eyes wide as the pair of claws sunk into his neck. Olynivaith plunged to the ground, knowing he had to get out of sight. Easier said than done. They couldn't dump the body between, not the first one. Bador would know for sure that dragons were doing the job. Rinth arrived with the stone and let it drop onto the monster's head. The pair of them ripped the rest of the villain to shreds. Hopefully there wouldn't be enough left to indicate who had done it and why.

Of course Bador would be suspicious...but hopefully the Riders could down more threats before then.

One down...

[Shoki]

D’rrel clutched his quarterstaff nervously. He was not a warrior. Not in any way. He had to help in some way though, so he was currently sneaking around. Lunirath was taking great pains to take him up to where the deathwing riders roosted. He was there to do what he had never done before, steal. His band of flitters were close at hand, making less noise then they had ever managed since they hatched. If he could sneak in and steal enough of their arrows, they would be running with that much less ammo. Of course if he was caught he would be most certainly dead. D’rrel tried not to think about that too much. The white dragon hugged the edges of the building as he rose up to a perch. So far, so good. The small dragon landed as quiet as he could manage, then slid inside to get out of view from the entrance. The rider dismounted quickly and then proceeded farther inside, his three flitters following.

D’rrel was thinking about how lucky he was that his nervousness had not completely paralyzed him when he found want he was looking for. Arrows were every wherein this room, along with some other weapons. With a deep breath he maneuvered through the weapons, until he reached the wall. The plan was to take them from the back, so it would be a lot harder to notice there were so many gone until it was too late. D’rrel started picking up quivers, and Wit lead the way for the flitters, taking as many arrows as the sunset could hold. Whisp joined in, leaving only Wonder, who was on the look out. This was actually a well planned choice. The dream was the most skittish of the group, and oddly enough the loudest. D’rrel had only ever heard her in distress one time and he swore it partially deafened him. So Wonder was making patrols while Wit and Whisp did the lifting. He hoped this insanity worked. He really did. As he picked up another quiver he noticed Wit and Whisp go /between/, taking the arrows back to his room. This was only going to have to be repeated about a hundred times. Ninety-Nine to go.

[Jay Kitten]

Hmph, what a display, yes? Well, no. Not to this one, he'd seen it all before. DeathWings were far from invincible, during the War many had been killed right in front of him. In fact, their death toll was even higher than Dark Mists at the time.

His arms were crossed as he stood on the pinacle of a rock overlooking the area. His spear was buried into the dirt at the base of the rock, the handle tall enough that he could reach it if needed, but for now he chose simply to watch. His dragon was nowhere near him, instead Syceth prefered to remain hidden until he was needed. Would they help these people destroy the DeathWings? Perhaps... But what would they gain from it?

Intense eye fell over the area, sweeping left to right until coming back onto the scene before him. Not everything was as it seemed, he could almost feel it. Something big was coming, but whatever it could be was beyond his ability to predict.

Come on, Mine, let me feed, I'm starting to starve here.[/color] The Darkblue was annoyed, he could tell simply by feeling his surface emotions, but that was fine. He could stay annoyed for all he cared, as long as he didn't jeapordize their position. Stay put until we make our move, he berated back, and he felt a backlash of anger through their Bond, as well as a mental image of Syceth gnashing his massive teeth.

Part of him wondered if H'to would show up. He hadn't seen that man in a long time. He could only guess that if he did, he wouldn't be too pleased with S'nire.

[Simile]

Daedra adjusted her grip around the bow. She didn't quite feel nervous, but she felt... a sort of tension building up deep inside her. She breathed. She had to remain absolutely calm.

Mine...

I know, Emraeth.

Daedra slowly raised her bow and arrow, aiming carefully... Then... Fired. She grabbed another arrow without looking, watching the arrow hit it's target. She had to be ready if this was not a kill... As soon as the arrow hit its target, she fired and repeated the process, changing targets. This one, she was sure, though, would be too far away. She would have to move.

Daedra stood slowly and moved around the rocks that acted as a shelter. She would find her next target shortly, she was certain.

----
Qu'san held his bow in hand, his sword at his side and arrows in a quiver beside him. He felt a great amount of rage boiling inside him. It made his mind sharper, clearer somehow. He felt himself processing things quickly. He was deeply engrossed in what was going on around him. In front of him. And... in seeing this plan come to fruition. For the freedom of Pern, for revenge for the death of their Weyrwoman, and for revenge for the capture and subjication of all in their Weyr. Of him.

He felt Iorth rumble deep in his throat from where he rested. He grinned, a rather crazed looking one at that. Qu'san raised the bow slowly, double-checking once more that no one would see what was about to happen to this Rider.

----
Z'ron was sat, knife in hand, behind some of the other men, ready to hand them another arrow. He didn't know how to use a bow and arrow. It was simply a fact. A knife, however, he was quite good with. He didn't care if he died doing this. But he rather wished to take a DeathWing down if he did.

Slienreth grumbled at Z'ron, but it was more of a rumbling sound deep in his throat of displeasure that was translated across their mental link. Z'ron smiled slightly. He knew that Slienreth did not like the idea that Z'ron was okay with dying.

----
((And... I am debating whether or not to include something from R'vin and whatnot here... Kaya?))