Threadfall Over Blacksands

Logfile from Jala

Above Blacksands Valley
You soar high above the forested valley of Blacksands. Below, you can make
out the buildings of Blacksands Hold, nestled along the black sandy beaches
of volcano cove. To the east, the ridgelines separate this valley from Ista
Hold and southern Ista, while west you can easily see the five-pointed rim
of Ista Weyr, rising out of the haze in the distance.
It is a summer afternoon.
Brown Ftoranth, green Imacinth, blue Canllaith, blue Kihaelth, and bronze
Nylanth are here.
Obvious exits:
Hold North East South West Beach Feeding Ground

And don't forget the wing… of High Reaches. That's right! There's only
one, honest! Only one that counts, anyway.

Appearing high in the sky and just off to the immediate side of the forest,
Kihaelth quickly banks his wings and carries himself towards the grouping of
dragons gathered to fight Thread. A few other dragons appear behind him,
likewise making their entrance and following after him. Perched atop
Kihaelth, Tevya glances over her shoulder to indeed assure that all those
she left with have arrived, before giving a slight motion with her fist to
allow them to settle into place. And from there? The wait begins.

N'ano and the other wingleaders double check their wings. Then the signal
is given. Time to rise and shine. Time for the Dragon riders of Pern to
earn their keep.

Myrrheth lets out a preliminary call to war, a rather intimidating
trumpeting for what is usually a soft-spoken and relatively quite green. A
sharp snap of the wings and she finds her place amongst her wingmates. Jala,
meanwhile, has one hand knotted firmly in Myrr's straps, her other hand
working on tugging cap and goggles into place. Adjusting said headgear, she
smiles broadly. "Hey Rishk, think I can make it through one without getting
some horribly debilitating score?" This is shouted to the fellow greenrider,
accompanied by a gesture to her infamous facial scar. "Oh, looks like we're
about ready to get started," she murmurs more to herself and her lifemate
than to anyone else. Smile fades and is replaced by a look of studied

Imacinth blinks out of ::between::, her somewhat anxious rider clad clinging
onto her for dear life. "Faranth, /this/ is why we should just hide in our
weyr, Ima," Rishk moans, biting her lower lip as her palor fades to near
green as her dragon. Spotting the rest of the Thunderstreakers, Rishk
signals Imacinth to rise into formation. Imacinth, excited as ever, trumpets
a shrill battle cry before ascending. Jala and Myrrheth are spotted, and
Imacinth makes a sharp left to steer into formation behind her wingmates.
" We'll see, Jala. We'll see."

Knifing across the sky, a sharp strand of Thread cuts across Imacinth's

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

Canllaith blinks in from ::between::, a hoarse bugle called out as he moves
to his position within his wing, Iya strapped alongside of him, her helmet
given a quick check with fingers as she then takes hold of straps within
gloved fingers, Canllaith given the all go to get himself settled in the air
appropriately, "Oh by the third toes of Faranth-" She wiggles and turns to
look at those behind and in front of her, bottom lip chewed as attention is
soon skewered back to the thread-

A sheeting ribbon of Thread kites past Kihaelth, fluttering as it sails

A buzzing swarm of Threads zip in front of Canllaith.

Ftoranth bugles his readiness to meet Thread. Dea gives one last check on
straps, on their supply of firestone. "Let's go Ftors! You know the drill.
Let's show them what we have got!"

Jala settles more securely down into her seat, both hands now firmly
gripping the burgundy straps that Myrrheth has sported for oh-so-long. Said
green finishes chewing a huge chunk of firestone just as the first tendrils
of thread make their way towards the gathered wings. "Alright, 'Streakers,
let's do this!" A rally cry from the diminutive rider, and then the pair
leap forward, Myrrheth letting out a large belch of flame to char the
nearest clump.

action on the part of her rider, Imacinth chews and swallows, flames soon
licking at the corners of her open mouth. You won't escape this magical
lasso, thread! Quickly flaming a piece near her, Imacinth jets into action,
his motley rider uneasily saluting in her fellow greenrider's direction.
" Aye."

Teasing! Already the Thread seems to tease Kihaelth, and the blue stands for
no such attempts. The progress from that ribbon of thread that moves past
his gaze is caught and held near instantly, Tevya's urge for him to flame it
not quite needed as a bellow of flame is given to sear the silvery clump
while he dives downwards to indeed assure that he thoroughly seared the
clump. Moments pass before he's angling himself back upwards to rejoin those
riders he came in with; falling quickly into place as Tevya readjusts her
grasp upon the straps, her gaze now scanning the sky above and before her
for more signs of Thread. "Keep your eyes open!" An uneeded statement,
though she does offer it none the less towards those flying with her.

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

Coarse crunching of firestone is heard, Iya continuing to bounce on her
seat, muscles in the buttal region moving impatiently- impatience soon
rewarded by the FWROOSH of flame as Canllaith chars the thread trying to
mosey its way in front of him, the blue letting out another bugle as he
finishes that piece of filth off, Iya letting out a wild whoop of sound as
she keeps hold to dragon who zips up and back into formation-

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

Kihaelth's bugle of warning comes moments before he skips ::between::, a
call made to those in line behind him to take care of the threat he can't
quite reach at the moment, for obvious reasons. Tevya herself ducks close
against Kihaelth's neck as she prepares for the trip ::between:: to get
themselves out of the immediate way of that reaching tangle of thread. All
too quickly the blue and his rider disappear, leaving room enough for the
brownrider behind them to slip into place and indeed sear that tangle, and
to likewise bank back off to the side moments later to allow for Tevya and
Kihaelth to appear back in their spot after reappearing just above the
contingent of wings fighting. A murmuring passage of praise is given towards
that rider who assisted, before once more, Tevya and Kihaelth's gaze falls
on the sky. Both rapidly scanning it for signs of falling Thread, while
attempting to direct their fellow wingmates into position to sear clumps
that fall past them.

Kihaelth skips ::between::!
Kihaelth flicks in from ::between:: with a low rumble.

Jala frees a gloved hand to give Myrrheth a little pat on the neck, and then
its back to business. A little mindnudge sends the willowy green into a
clean nosedive, carefully executed in order to char a clump of thread before
it can slip through the cracks. The maneuver is successful, and Myrr lets
out a rumble of satisfaction as she skips ::between::, back to her spot in
the advancing Thunderstreak wing. "Good work, Myrr!" is shouted to her
dragon, and then tossing a glance over her shoulder, she yells, "Hey,
someone wanna pull up and fill in this gap left by Trogdorath?" And she
tilts her head in indication of the open space next to her.

Nylanth and his rider dive right into the fight, guns blaring. Or fires
blazing, at least. Adding to the bulk of one of the Istan wings, the pair
are off to the side, cutting a swath through the ugly mess of snot-like
thread. Nasty stuff. Burn it! Yes! Buuuuuuurrrrnnn! And other twinky words
as well.

A tumbling ball of Thread tumbles downwards towards Canllaith.

Settled proudly between the neckridges of Canllaith's glacial frost dusted
ridges, Iya receives a deep score on the shoulder!

Silver upon silver: deadly strands interweave to form an intricate quilt of
roiling Thread, awaiting to blanket Nylanth.

darting from side to side, her vision filled with the deadly silver spores.
" Over there," she calls to the green, Imacinth quickly rising slightly to
get a better angle at flaming the silver enemy. "Stay focused," she murmurs,
before Imacinth launches a gulp of flame towards the thread. Hearing Jala,
Rishk yells, "I'll be right there!" before the pair manuvers up into the
vacated spot.

A tangled mass of Thread tumbles on the winds, spinning close to Imacinth in
its fall.

A rushing waterfall of Thread cascades from the heavens above, reflecting an
eerie, distorted image as it falls before Ftoranth.

Ftoranth receives a slight score on the haunches!

Ftoranth skips ::between::!
Ftoranth blinks in from ::between::!

Imacinth skips ::between::!
Imacinth blinks in with a shrill operatic note from ::between::.

"FTors!!!!!" Dea screams as her dragon gets scored. "To Ista! Between Now!

Ftoranth goes home.

Canllaith searches the sky for falling lumps or threads or tendrils of
thread, eyes whirrling a deep red as he rumbles out and flames one falling
strip of thread before a shrill cry from his rider causes the blue to drop
down and ready himself for betweening but not before Iya gets scored on her
shoulder, hoarse cry ringing out as she lets go of her straps to flail a
hand at shoulder just as Canllaith lets out his bellow of anger- blue then
::betweening:: out.
Canllaith streaks up high into the air before his wings tuck to his sides
and he allows himself to do a free fall dive towards the ground, chilled
wind buffeting about him as he ::betweens::, flakes of sunlight encrusted
snow twirling down to the ground in his wake.

A silvery tendril of Thread descends stealthily, slipping silently past
Kihaelth in its downward fall.

Nylanth catches an unexpected thermal caused by all the flaming below and
heads nearly straight at a tangle of Thread above. The bronze seems about to
flame it, but blinks Between just a moment before hitting the mass of grey.
When the bronze pair appears again eight seconds later, it's just above the
tangle, which gets turned into ash in a flash.

Kihaelth receives a medium score on the wingtip!

Kihaelth skips ::between::!
Kihaelth flicks in from ::between:: with a low rumble.

Imacinth has assumed Trogdorath's empty spot, and is slowly raising in
altitude. "Someone needs to take this side of the formation," Rishk calls
out to her wingmates. As more firestone is needed, greenrider quickly
fiddles with the pouch and replenishes her dragon. Nearly missing a clump of
thread, the pair settle quickly back into formation, Imacinth still chewing,
and Rishk biting her lip. "Jala!" Rishk then calls, eyes surveying some of
their own down. "We're losing riders fast! We need a tighter formation!"
Nervous titter.

Jala frees a hand to retrieve a hunk of firestone, which is tossed to
Myrrheth with practiced ease. The green quickly munches the firestone away,
whilst Jala sends a call of thanks to Rishk, as well as a nod of agreement.
" I'll have Myrrheth relay the order to pull in tighter, maybe double up into
that v-formation we went through last week?" The green effortlessly flames
clump after clump of thread, attempting to make up for the lost riders and
dragons who are no longer able to contribute.

Thread seems falling heavy this time around. A unusually large clump seems
to be heading directly towards the Thunderstreak's path.

Whether or not it had been seen is a rather moot point. For suddenly there
is that searing sensation along her calf, and the echoing and matching call
of pain from Kihaelth within her mind that has her and the blue disappearing
quickly into between. Tevya's form once more bent close against Kihaelth's
neck as she prepares for that trip, while another hand seems to hover just
above that spot upon her calf. The pair do reappear moment's later, though
it's not above to fight with the wings, but just below the flock of wings
fighting as she and Kihaelth take themselves down to the Hold below.

<Local> Myrrheth senses that she appears in a whirl of harsh chiffon and
heightened violin. «Jala says that the Thunderstreakers should pull into
the double-v formation we practiced this past sevenday. Please do so
immediately, with Elbareth and Tanzheth as the two leading points.»

Jala receives a severe score on the hip!

Myrrheth skips ::between::!
Myrrheth bursts in from ::between:: in a brilliance of ruby-dusted absinthe.

A wingsecond and his dragon blink ::BETWEEN:: as thread almost hits his

Imacinth's straps and telling the dragon to 'listen and get her green butt
moving'. Rishk's eyes widen as Jala is scored, and she urges Imacinth to
quickly assume Myrrheth's spot in formation. "Double V formation!" she calls
to those behind her, urging haste. Imacinth is dodging threadfall and
flaming those coming close enough. Another chunk of firestone is tossed at
the green, and Rishk watches for another other changes in their pattern.

N'ano surveys the wings, frowning as riders and near misses seem to be the
rule of the day. This bodes no good for the riders of Ista. The Thread
seems to be passing on to the sea. The last few clumps falling onto the

Jala lets out a pained yell as a large strip of thread somehow breaks
through her impeccable flight and catches her across the hip. Myrrheth
immediately skips between, only to emerge with a distressed creen. Pressing
a gloved hand over the rather expansive wound, Jala shakes her head and
grunts in defeat. Too dazed to use her mindlink, she murmurs some nonsense
to her lifemate and then the pair disappear between to return to Ista.

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