Ali's First Threadfall

[[Logged by Ali]]

Central Bowl
You stand in the center of the Ista Weyr bowl. You feel small as you crane your neck to look into the sky, at the towering five pinnacles of the Weyr rim, so tall they seem to reach into the clouds. The bowl floor slopes gently upward to the southeast, where various tunnels lead to the hatching grounds, ground weyrs, and living caverns. Across the bowl to the northeast are the weyrling barracks and training grounds. You can see the Weyr's artificial waterfall as it sheets down along the northern wall of the Bowl, its pool concealed at the base of the bowl by an ethereal cloud of mist. West, the entire wall of the bowl has been blown out by some long-distant eruption, and you can see clear out to the ocean from here. The view is breathtaking.

Elle stands just off ot the side of Larisseth, her helmet set upon her head yet the straps hang to either side. Muttering under her breath, "Where are all my weyrlings… I-" She cuts off at the sight of Fiviath, immediatly striding up to the pair, "Where are the rest?"

From Fiviath's neck, Mhairie glances around and points to those appearing all around "Why umm there here" for the most part at least.

Char slips from Aztereth's reedy neck, assisted by an extended limb into a gentle glide to the ground and landing with a light thump.

Char dismounts, giving Elle a funny look. "/Your/ weyrlings, huh? Since when were they /your/ weyrlings?" Char snaps back at the older rider, apparently in a 'rare' temper this afternoon.

Ali clicks a respectful salute off to Elle and Char before pausing to fasten her riding cap, careful to shove all strands of her sable hair up and out of the way. Gloves are checked, pulled tightly to be sure they cover her hands completely, and jacket is, once again, fastened. Finally, she swings a leg over and slips down from 'lauth's side.

Elle gives Char quite the wry grin, "Well, only the cute ones." Her attention shifts right on back to Mhairie and Fiviath, her gaze darkening, "I trust you've got everything settled. Straps? Riding clothes?" My, she almost sounds like some kind of mother wherryhen. Do I dare say… worried?

From Fiviath's neck, Mhairie cocks her head to the side and grins at Elle "Yes ma'am, we're all set for take-off" she says brightly. "Right Fiviath?" the green warbles a happy reply, illicating a choke and then a giggles "Umm sure Fivi.. sure."

Char snorts. "Only the cute ones, indeed," she retorts and then quickly quips Ali's offered salute, nodding succinctly to the gathering weyrlings. "Are you all ready to be blooded?" she inquires.

Uillauth's usually calm shades of brown and black are tinted with excited, and maybe a little nervous, shades of red. His pride wins over, echoed in his thoughts, « It is time to face thread. We will do well. »

Elle turns her anxious gaze now to Ali and Uillauth, "You too? Everything set? This isn't dyed ropes we're talking about. This is the real thing, kids." Actually going so far as to dry-wash her hands, she immediatly turns upon Char at the sound of the snort, upon the brink of barking a nasty retort, only to notice Misumith's arrival with just the smallest of trepidatious frowns.

From Fiviath's neck, Mhairie looks serious as she sits atop Fiviath "I'm always readied to be bloodied for teh well being of Pern" but theres a shade of white to her face at the thought, but she swallows down her fear. Fiviaths eyes whirl with a tinge of red at the thought of the ancient menace. At some unspoken thought Mhairie rubs Fivi's ridges and whispers "Though I dearly hope we won't get hurt, I don't want to lose you."

Ali gulps softly but gives Elle a firm nod, determined not to let her nerves show. Not today. "All set." That may be so, but her dark eyes do yet another run over the straps, followed by testing fingers, just to be safe. Once she's sure things are as set as they can be, she clambers back up the large brown's side and refastens the riding straps. P'kar is spotted and given a wave and a very nervous smile.

Char tugs her cap on, taking great care to be sure that every last braid is firmly pinned to her head beneath. A sudden rush overcomes her, somewhat too-tight cap sending a euphoria through her body, adding to the adrenaline flow. She grins at Elle, eyes dancing with excitement. The expression almost feral, she turns it on Mhairie, gazing at the weyrling pair. "If you don't mess up, you'll both be fine. Just remember to keep your head about you, and remember what you've learned in your classes, and you can't possibly be scored." False bravado? Perhaps. Or maybe Char is feeling cocky today.

Salbaheth enters the bowl with an excited bugle of challenge. Finally, he gets to try out his manly manliness in something other than flights.

Larisseth suddenly extends her neck to the sky, watching as wing after wing of dragons alite. With a brief moment of alarm, Elle scampers over to the green fastening her helmet and dragging on her gloves. "Everyone get ready! Go aloft at the signal." Just as she is about to mount Larisseth, she notes Salbaheth and T'nar's appearance with something of a scowl, "Thread waits for no man," as a last admonishing remark.

Elle uses Larisseth's politely extended foreleg to mount the petite green, bestriding viridian neck.

Salbaheth thinks « Huzzah! At long last! Let me spout the enemy from the sky! I can do it! I /will/ do it! Lemme at em! Lemme at em!»

Ali squirms just slightly from her place on Uillauth's neck, the perfectionist, or, perhaps, the worried, side of her forcing her to feel the riding straps *one* more time. Just to be sure. Gaze shifts in Elle's direction, watching quietly for the signal.

From Larisseth's neck, Elle secures herself in her straps, making sure all buckles and sinches are tight. With a final look to the group to make sure they are all in position… She pumps her arm up and down in the signal for the group to rise as one.

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar frowns just a little and glances over at Elle. He doesn't say much, though, patting his dragon's neck a little. He smiles, and coments, "Yes, we know you're ready. Wait til they signal us." With that, his attention turns towards Elle.

The signal! Ali gulps quietly as she spots it, but immediately, she and Uillauth lift into the air, rising as a single part within the group.

From Larisseth's neck, Elle takes a final glance to make sure all are right where they are supposed to be. Firestone sacks and full thread-fighting regalia on. Good, nearly time…

Larisseth speaks, in what for her is an excited tone, « We shall all envision and between now. » Of course, for anyone else, she sounds perfectly relaxed and calm.

From Aztereth's neck, Char shakes her head at the greenrider and checks her own gear, already certain that she has everything ready. She's always ready long before hand, so she doesn't have to stress. She really hates to stress.

Fiviath rises with a grace she's shown only a few times, for once there is no antics to her flying, she's serious, deadly serious almost. Mhairie swallows again, seeming to be a bit more nervous then her lifemate. She checks her stuff once again, can't check it too many times right?

As soon as they appear from ::between::, Ali and Uillauth's gazes shift from one side to the other, checking for the dreaded thread, and preparing to attack it.

As the dragons blink in from ::Between:: in the north the silvery leading edge of thread can be seen.

Aztereth, excited as all the rest, begins to hum something akin to The Flight of the Valkyries, sending the sound along the link, the vivid hue of adrenaline's tangerine threading through the sound. « Here it comes, kids. Keep your heads on and good luck! »

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar settles himself a little more astride Sal's neck, shifting down lightly. He knows this is what he's been trained for, been ready for, but now at the moment of truth, he seems more than just a little nervous. Trust, though, and that's what he does, trust his lifemate, ready to provide whatever he needs.

Larisseth manages to hover in mid-air while her lifemate gazes behind to make sure all the weyrlings are fully accounted for. She does a quick count, getting exactly what she started out with. Well, there goes one obsticle… now the next. She swivles back about to look where her lifemate urges… there. Threadfall. A call under her breath muffled not only by her hood but also the beat of dragon wings.

From Fiviath's neck, Mhairie eyes the thread, some of Fiviath's confidence rubbing off, we can do this, we will survive. Fiviath trumpets out her defiance at teh thread, ready to sear it as it falls.

The shimmering silver Threads continue to fall, raining destruction towards Pern.

Like a puppy strung up on some canine hybrid of catnip, Salbaheth dances midair with anticipation, lashing the breeze with his tail. He rumbles challenge to the distant line of silver marring the skyline and then turns his head to await the stoking of his engines. Citizen, I need firepower!

Tumbling end over end like a dandelion, a delicate wisp of Thread dances on the wind, bouncing past Larisseth as it drifts lazily downward.

Nylanth and G'deon appear, firestone sacks tied securely to the dragon's riding straps.

Larisseth nearly gets her muzzle tickles with that initial one. But the momentary lapse is gone as she snorts, rumbles, and then attacks with a speedy little blast of flame right to the wispy bit of Thread.

A bronze blasts a clump of Thread with a massive gout of flame, scattering charred remnants in his wake.

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar smiles a little to his dragon, shifting in his straps to pull chunks of firestone free from their storage sacks. He handfeeds his dragon til he's ready, and settles back to ride and watch, alert for nearby clumps.

From Aztereth's neck, Char pulls her goggles up, remembering them just at the last minute, as she spies the silver sheet in the sky beyond. Gazing around at the surrounding weyrlings, she smiles grimly. How many will make it through, alive /and/ unharmed? Her eyes catch on her young bronzerider friend for a moment and then her dragon is rumbling warning before rising to meet the ancient enemy with a gout of flame.

A long, thin strand of Thread sinks in deadly silence, just ahead of Uillauth.

From Fiviath's neck, Mhairie tosses Fiviath some firestone, making sure she's ready to flame when a pathc comes there way. Fiviath quickly crushes the stone, the reek of it stirring in Mhairies nostrils, something familier to greet this alien enemy.

Salbaheth just finishes masticating the last hunk of firestone handed him by his lifemate when he's unexpectedly faced with the danger he'd been anticipating. With a slight shriek, he manages to not wet his hide, but flames the falling threads with a bit more flame than necessary.

A green nimbly twists to sear a stray twist of Thread with a precise burst of flame.

Uillauth rumbles encouragingly to his fellow clutchmates as they face together, for the first time ever, Thread. Astride him, Ali's jaw sets into a look of sheer determination, fury shining in her eyes, fury for the threat that stands before them. As they head forward, 'lauth rumbles again, one more time, before attacking the nearby patch with a blast of fire, causing it to vanish into nothing but char.

Nylanth wisks over, dodging a small clump of thread long enough for G'deon to hand a full sack of firestone to the waiting bluerider. Then without a moment to wait around, the pair turns, finding the wingsecond who had also requested a refill.

An angry, hissing knot of Thread falls into Salbaheth's path, writhing in eerie gyrations as it seeks the lush earth below.

Two blues head for the same Thread; one rider signals, and her dragon chars the Thread while the other looks for a new target.

A snakelike filament of Thread hisses its way past Fiviath, slithering across the sky towards the ground below.

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar settles a little and rubs his lifemate's neck a little. A brief unheard reassurance, and he focuses on the thread falling past.

Below, the Gold Wing catches missed Thread with accurate Flamethrower fire.

Salbaheth glances around quickly to be sure no one caught his mistake or his moment of fear, and then rises with a growla /manly/ growlto meet the oncoming knot of Thread. Ha! Teach you to scare /me/ like that. Hahaha! Let's not get hysterical, Sal.

Precariously high above the ground, perched between iron-hard neckridges, The High Reaches riders who arrived with the weyrling receive their orders, more than willing to help out with the Fall. Bursts of flame sear clumps of thread to either side.

Fiviath dives for the thread, flaming as she goes, then whirls away from the dust, moving almost instintively, though training shows through, she has listened to her lessons. Mhairie grins brightly as the thread falls as harmless dust below.

Tangled into a convoluted knot, a clump of Thread races by Nylanth, as if to elude his dragonfire by its speedy descent.

A delicate spiderweb of Thread looms before Aztereth, waiting to ensnare him.

From Aztereth's neck, Char cackles like a madwoman as she gestures wildly through the air. Okay, so it's been a while since she's flown Threadfall. "Charge!" At the shout and her pointing gesture, Aztereth rises to meet the challenging spiderweb of Thread.

Precariously high above the ground, perched between iron-hard neckridges, Unable to flame yet, G'deon and Nylanth send chilling glares at the mindless Thread just before they blink into ::between::, reappearing a few minutes later with more firestone which they deliver quickly to a nearby green rider.

A group of junior weyrlings blinks in from ::between::, taking empty firestone sacks and exchanging them for full.

Twirling around like some spiraling child's toy, a group of Threads spin dizzyingly down past Salbaheth.

A bronze spearheads a wing's attack on a huge mass of Thread, searing the middle into nothingness; on either side of him, browns work to clear the remaining masses, while blues and greens clear up the scattered remnants.

Larisseth slides right back into position, glancing back once more to the weyrlings, spying one in particular. The green rumbles a comment along to Uillauth to move back into formation, extraordinarly insistant upon this course. A rider's touch to dragon's shoulder send Larisseth into a sort of hiccup of a maneuver in order to get at a tangle of Thread, her gout of flame rending it to ash on the wind.

And like a spiraling child's toy, the Thread is quickly destroyed by an ecstatic bout of flame from the maw of Salbaheth. The charred remnants falling about his form, he turns his head for refueling, keeping a whirling eye on the action. Wouldn't want to miss anything at this point.

Precariously high above the ground, perched between iron-hard neckridges, An odd battlecry can be heard from one of the riders as B'art and Simsonth char a snarled group of Thread.

Uillauth moves carefully, being sure to stay within the ranks and keeping his distance so as to not accidentally flame a nearby dragonpair. Angry red swirls twist across his orbs, echoing the hatred he carries as he aims upward, attacking, and responding with the stream of fire that shoots from his muzzle, wiping clear the path before them.

A group of Threads fall past Fiviath, one after another, plodding downward with mindless determination.

Thread clips the wingtip of a blue; he gives a piercing shriek of distress, then skips ::BETWEEN::

A sheeting ribbon of Thread falls near Larisseth, fanning out as if to ensnare her.

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar shifts to refuel his dragon, watching the stone as he pulls it free, and glancing up to watch for nearby clumps. No, it wouldn't do to miss something important like thread falling on you this quickly.

A school of silvery Threads surround Aztereth, darting this way and that as the wind buffets them.

A brown dragon bugles angrily as he dives to attack more Thread!

Precariously high above the ground, perched between iron-hard neckridges, Rei suddenly appears from ::between:: and hovers a moment, surveying the area carefully before finding a discreet perch.

From Fiviath's neck, Mhairie tosses Fiviath more stone, gotta keep that furnace burnin'. Fiviath whirls away from some falling dust, her eyes keeping track of the thread, following the movements downwards before flaming. Mhairie yelps as she ducks away from ash just as Fiviath skips to prevent even a miner burn.

Wheeling end over end across Salbaheth's flightpath, a ring of Thread spins its way down towards the greenery below.

Thread shimmers silently down, twisting hungrily towards the verdant green below.

Precariously high above the ground, perched between iron-hard neckridges, G'deon leans over and tosses another sack of firestone to the nearest rider, catching the empty one in return.

A mirrorlike pane of Thread suddenly appears before Nylanth, reflecting him image back in eerie silvery distortion.

Coming from between, Aztereth flames the school of thread, Char gesticulating with an angry fist at the charred enemy. "Ha! Take that, you mindless clump of deadly matter! Ha! I laugh at you!"

Larisseth emerges upon the other side of the fan of Thread, easily escaping the net. Wing's angle as she dives after the floating hazzard, neck jerks back, whips forward, and with the sweep a wall of flame slides across the back of the fall, leaving sparks and embers alone.

Knifing across the sky, a sharp strand of Thread cuts across Aztereth's path.

The backwash of another dragon's flame temporarily chokes a blue rider, but he swerves his dragon away to avoid the phosphine stink.

Uillauth turns his head, his large jaws opening enough for Ali to fill his mouth with with firestone. Quickly, he faces foward again, teeth working on the stone, before swallowing, once again ready for Thread.

Charred Thread drifts lazily to the ground.

A tumbling ball of Thread drops alongside Uillauth.

A young dragon is able to sear the Thread just infront of Nylanth, who folds his wings quickly and drops a dozen feet to stay out of the way.

An ornate clump of Thread waltzes past Larisseth, dancing elegantly down towards the earth below.

Salbaheth growls and lunges at the knife of thread, sending it into oblivion with a well-placed line of flame. Rumbling in satisfaction, he sends a quick line of smug though his lifemate's way and then chalenges the enemy with a bugle. Is that all you've got?

A buzzing swarm of Threads zip in front of Fiviath.

Ali and Uillauth are prepared for whatever happens to fall their way, regardless of the size and shape of the odd ball of silvery Thread. But this time, it isn't in their reach, so the brown skips to the side, letting it fall past, in the hopes that the gold wing below will catch it.

Fiviath skips between startled for a second at the fast moving Thrread, coming out after it she dives after and flames, a little much perhaps but she's not happy. No thread is going to take her by surprise.

The leading edge of fall begins to visibly dissipate. Thread falls slower now, and clumps farther apart.

A tangled mass of Thread slips past Salbaheth, writhing in hungry eagerness to reach the ground below.

A silvery tendril of Thread sinks, almost lifelessly, past Aztereth.

From Larisseth's neck, Elle takes a firm grip of her straps as Larisseth conducts a barrel-roll as neatly as any spry green. Hey, she doesn't always lounge around the weyr eating wherry-filled bon-bons all the time. Sliding back to be right-side up, she fans her wings, then spits a very narrow ball of flame at the Thread. History.

A green dragonrider pauses in her attack to clear charred Thread from her goggles.

From Nylanth's bronzen neck, G'deon ducks unnescessarily as a clump of thread falls towards the pair from above, but Nylanth is quicker, darting to the side in time.

Aztereth dives and then rises to meet the oncoming Thread, Char showing more enthusiasm than he. Threadfall really is quite the stress reliever. It's like.. shooting at cute little bunny rabbits with sharp pointy teeth and having the satisfaction that it's one less freak of nature to worry about.

Twisted strands of silver weave a taunting dance, as a tangle of Threads snake across Fiviath's path.

A silvery tendril of Thread reaches out to curl its deadly grasp around Uillauth.

From Nylanth's bronzen neck, With the last couple sacks of firestone handed out, Nylanth and G'deon dart around, dodging Thread.

Larisseth climbs back up to the forefront of the wing, her pace slowing as it common for greens. Energy nearly expended, the dragon misses a stragly flutter of Thread that a young brown takes up instead.

Oooh, barrel roll. Salbaheth's gonna have to try that one. He rolls towards the left, diving at the Thread that managed to slip by him moments before. Taking care that no one is in his path, he flames the escaping enemy.

Ali leans to the side as she and Uillauth quickly return to the ranks after the near miss. With a squeak of terror from Ali, the pair vanishes ::between:: only to appear just out of the way of the deadly Thread, coming up behind it and searing it out of the sky.

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar shifts and catches a flicker of movement above. A quick cry to his lifemate, indistinguishable from a distance, and the rider crouches closer against his dragon's neck.

Slowly, the last few dribbles of thread stop. A single strand falls and is flamed by a passing green. Then silence as the wings wait for more. A blue flames yet another strand, then nothing. The threadfall has been successfully fought and won by Pern's dragonriders.

From Nylanth's neck, G'deon raises an arm, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun as he waits for his next orders, Nylanth carefully dodging the lessening Thread.

Fiviath turns her head back to recieve more firestone, chewing the stone quickly as she prepares herself for yet another mindless patch of thread. She sweeps to the right a letting some charred thread fall harmlessly pass.

Ali's eyes shift over the area checking to be sure no patches went uncaught. Realizing it's gone, she sighs, a long, deep sigh of relief.

Nylanth lets out an enthusiastic bugle to the other dragons, his eyes whirling in excited blues, the edges still tinted somewhat with red.

From Larisseth's neck, Elle heaves a sigh of relief, now that the fall is over. She glances back to make sure all the weyrlings are there. Threadscores?…She grins, ripping off her helmut and calling out, "Form up! We go back to the Weyr!"

From Aztereth's neck, Char is still screaming like a maniac at the now empty sky. The blue beneath her rumbles, amused, and she ducks her head in embarassment, likely blushing beneath the ash and soot on covering the exposed parts of her face.

From Nylanth's bronzen neck, G'deon grins and gives Nylanth a silent command to join the end of one of the lower wings. He just winks to the wingleader on his way as he's joined by another 'Reaches rider.

Ali slips back into form and waits for the sign to return home, pulling her riding cap off her head so that her locks can bounce around her adrenaline kissed face. An affectionate pat is shared with her lifemate for a job well done.

Fiviath forms back into formation, wirh Mhairie grinning brightly "We did it!" she exclaims and then snorts at Fiviath as she rolls her eyes,

From Salbaheth's neck, T'nar manages a deep sigh of relief as he scans the sky and sees no more Thread. A pat on his dragon's neck, and he smiles, relaxed for once, now that it's all over.

Salbaheth gazes blankly at the now empty sky and then turns a startled expression on his lifemate. « It's over? » His own weariness has yet to catch up to him. At a mental nudge from T'nar, he slips back into formation, preparing to return home.

From Larisseth's neck, Elle makes one last check, the green underneath her warbling softing something about just joing home and sleeping forever… just as soon as she coughs up some ash. Ew.

Nylanth sends exciting but confusing images of dragons flaming Thread. « You flame well! Thank you for letting us help! »

Char dismounts with a sigh of relief, her helmet removed and blood allowed to flow to her head once more. She sways a bit and then straightens, grinning like an idiot at weyrlings and riders alike. "Congratulations! You survived your first Threadfall!"

Ali leaps to the ground, excitement overthrowing the weariness of her recent 'adventure'. Arms are thrown around Uillauth's neck in a silly but affectionate hug and she squeals happily.

T'nar quirks a corner of his mouth, smiling a little as Char congratulates the weyrlings. Patting his bronze's side, he smiles, "Mostly his work. I just fed. And watched." For all the little that he did, he's still quite pleased to be here in one piece.

Salbaheth suddenly doesn't feel so well, the gag reflex already starting. Oooh.. where're the privies?

G'deon just leans against Nylanth for the moment, smiling as the Istans regather. He glances at the 'Reachers from time to time but seems in no hurry to leave just yet.

Char catches Salbaheth's discomfort as Aztereth rumbles encouragement to the young bronze. "Ah, yes.. You might want to get him over to the firepits, T'nar, before he spews hot ash all over the place. I must say, it isn't very pleasant smelling, either."

Ali gives 'lauth an enouraging pat and, with that, leads him off in the direction of the firepits.

B'art and F'ish walk over at clap their own little weyrling on the back before F'ish goes off to find friends and family. "Thanks," is all G'deon can come up with though, still recovering from the threadfall as he cleans his face off with a somewhat clean handkerchief.

T'nar quirks the other corner of his mouth, and pats his dragon's side, "Up, hurry on there. Firepits. Remember?" A quick mental image and directions to clarify. He smiles quietly, and heads off a little towards the pits, "C'mon."

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