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Post by seneth on Dec 27, 2009 21:38:08 GMT -5
The dull glows of early morning had barely begun to rise, as a man nestled and bound by his harness gave a nervous twitch. Whilst the mighty creature that bore him started a slow, and lazy decent. Don’t worry…I will protect you... The mighty brown rumbled, repeating his favourite phrase of the morning as he veered into another lazy circle.
With a frown the man shook his head. “Not this time…there’s no telling how much they know…or how they’ll judge us.” The man thought aloud, grimacing as he noticed the stone based Weyr. “I’d hoped it was outside like Southern or East…” Suddenly the man was stone faced and silent. His knuckles white as he gripped onto the harness.
It would be good shelter from storms. The brown rumbled logically. There’s plenty of areas to sleep outside…but I think inside would be nice too? He asked rumbling gently. The brown could tell his rider was hurting, and not only because of the wound at his chest. It has good water and much green…good places to sun…what matter is living in stone? Folth asked in the hope of distracting his rider.
With a sharp shake the S’en emerged from his memories to offer the usually quiet brown a reassuring thump. “I’m okay…I’m okay,” He murmured finally with a sigh. “Like the old man said, we should see it as a fresh start…stone, or no stone.” The man said lightly, as a glimmer of hope glistened his weary brown eyes. His pale complexion taking a more healthy tinge under the crimson and golds of morning light.
Leaning back in his harness S’en took a deep breath, before exhaling it slowly. “Please don’t worry about me Folth all will go well, If not, there’s always Southern, or the Northern Weyrs…whoever heard of a Weyrless dragon and rider?
Admin's Note:[/hr]” He asked bitterly. “…Shards, there I go again…!” The man cursed with a dry laugh. “All will go well for us, you’ll see.” S’en smiled as he leant out of his harness to take a better look at the nearing Weyr. “It is much nicer than the Northern Weyrs…” He thought aloud, as he half listened to Folth addressing with the Watchdragon.
Before long, in the swirl of stone and dust Folth landed. It was only as the dragons claws bit into the hardened earth that a mix of dread and anticipation hit S’en. Would they accept him…
Admin's Note:[/hr] Would they let him enlist into their wings? …It would be a shame to leave now… He added to Folth as he threw down his pack.
Taking one last glance from his vantage point, he slid carefully down to the raised forearm, and then to the ground. Who will come to meet us…
Admin's Note:[/hr][/I] S’en asked as he unzipped and removed what he could of his riding gear, before slinging his pack onto his good shoulder. The watch has contacted someone. The brown rumbled reassuringly, as S’en hugged his chest with one arm, bracing both his old injury and his nerves. [/size]
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Dec 28, 2009 21:50:54 GMT -5
The cool touch of a dawn breeze was quite refreshing after spending a couple hours hunched by a rank of burning candles and marking down supplies lists into one comprehensive bound list. Saved a lot of time if all the information was put together properly. Of course, it probably didn't help matters much that Ragule had his own methods of organization, differing from most others. So rather than upturn the catalouging system that the Journeymen were currently using and thus disorienting the lot of them, he'd instead started making his own lists. Better for everyone, that.
So as it was, the rising sun found the Master Healer standing outside and leaning on his cane contemplating what he could see from there. He didn't often need a cane, but this morning his knees had been bothering him too much to feel steady without one. He remained where he stood as a brown dragon made its way down into the bowl and landed there. Ragule was pretty certain that that was not a local dragon, though he couldn't be sure. There were certainly plenty enough dragons around! The lighting didn't help much, either.
Of a mind to investigate, he stopped leaning on the cane so heavily and walked over to greet the rider. "Goodmorning." he offered, when in earshot. Though a rather large fellow himself, his voice was quite low and gentle. Very rarely did the healer ever raise his voice - for a myriad of reasons. Partly because it wasn't in his nature, and partly because it required a lot of air to do such things.
"What are you up to, this early in the morning?" He asked, aware that dragons did not navigate the best when Rukbat was not well set into the sky. Nighttime and dusk was a wher's domain.
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Post by seneth on Dec 28, 2009 23:38:58 GMT -5
With a weary sigh S’en resisted leaning against his vigilant brown, whose whirling eyes continued to study their surroundings. It seems a mix of Northern…with the lush vegetation we‘re used to… The man thought distractedly, to which the dragon offered a soft snort in reply. With a smirk S’en looked up at his life partner, Why don’t you go up on the heights..
Admin's Note:[/hr] Make some new friends…
Admin's Note:[/hr][/I] This was ignored completely, as Folth remained rooted beside his rider his eyes fixed to the approaching healer.
Biting back a nervous oath, all expression fled from S’en’s pale, tired face. As he slowly licked suddenly dry lips. The man’s a giant… He thought tensely, suddenly glad he stood in Folth’s shadow, his eyes running over the large hands, the muscles… This was a man he didn’t wish to cross.
But at the unexpectedly low, and gentle tones S’en blinked. Did that truly come from the man before him? He wondered, as his guard lowered enough to offer a smile. “G…Good Morning to you too,” He replied, his voice hesitant at first but quickly grew in strength.
This surprised even him, as the tall man neared. “I’m S’en rider of brown Folth, from Eas…” Suddenly a hard light flashed in eyes, before he slowly shook his head. “We’re of no Weyr, we…we hope to transfer here…” He said softly, as his eyes lifted to study the man’s reaction.
Did he know why the brown rider had to transfer? How much had the gossip spread during the many sevendays he was trapped in his feverish dreams? (Signs of which still clear in his pale slightly hollowed cheeks and too slim frame.) With a soft sigh he was glad he was partially concealed in Folth’s shadows, as he sought out any signs recognition, judgement or disgust. Something he’d seen often during his last days in Eastern Weyr.
At a reassuring thought from Folth he smiled and thought back to the man’s other question. “We weren’t that far from the Weyr…so we flew here hoping to request our transfer before the days duties were set.” He said with a slight shrug, hoping that’d suffice. It was then his side decided to give a painful twinge bringing a wince to his face.
That, was the other reason they’d flown early. He thought, as he tenderly clutched his side. There was no way he’d chance between, not yet, also the pair couldn’t resist a morning arrival after the long journey here. [/size]
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Dec 29, 2009 0:27:59 GMT -5
Shadows or no shadows, the healer knew a sick and wounded individual when he saw one. He looked the man over briefly, but made no comment - yet. But later on he'd definitely want to check this out, see what could be done. Coming to a halt, he propped the cane before him and leaned on it a bit, offering a smile. "Well met, then, good sir. I am quite sure the Weyrwoman would be delighted to have you. In times such as these, none can be afforded to be turned aside." He assured the rider, catching the hint of worry in the man's voice. He took a moment to look up at and along the form of the dragon, noting that the beast seemed to be in far better condition than the man who rode him.
"She is probably up and about by now, I am sure. To where she might be, I cannot attest, however." Straightening, Ragule looked around a moment, trying to find his flitter. As if that was all it took, the brown popped into being and landed delicately on his shoulder with a trilling flute. "There you are." Ragule greeted. "Do go inform our dear lady that there is someone here wishing to speak to her." he told the fitter, who promptly launched and vanished back between again. "Torc'll get her, wherever she is." Ragule assured him.
"However, while we wait, I think we should cut to the chase here, save some grief." With a hand freed from leaning on the cane, he gestured in general at S'en from head to toe. "I could not call myself a Healer and not notice your condition. What happened?" he asked, completely forgetting to introduce himself at all. Duty had always come first in his mind, and as such his social skills sometimes lacked when it came in conflict with taking care of people and dragons.
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Post by seneth on Jan 1, 2010 21:54:24 GMT -5
Without breaking eye contact S’en finally sighed and dropped his gaze, glad that this man at least hadn’t heard the rumours. So with a stifled grunt he lowered his pack to the ground, before propping his headgear and jacket on top. There was no point straining himself further, especially as it seemed he’d have a chance to state his side of the story and not the better known lie.
As the rider started to relax so did the dragon, as S’en returned the giants smile. “Its good to know that there might be a place for us here,” He said with a slightly relieved smile, as he forced himself to see the healers words in a positive light.
With a pleased croon the brown turned one eye to study his rider, before focusing with interest on the firelizard. Why don’t you call yours? Folth asked before turning to look up at the heights. Not yet. Later. S’en replied distractedly as he focused on the healer, his expression softening at the sight of the fire lizard. “Thank you for your assistance,” He said formally, before quickly adding. “If the Weyrwoman is busy, I don’t mind wai…” But the firelizard had gone.
S’en offered a rueful smile as he brushed a long brown fringe out of his eyes. He didn’t want to make a bad impression here…but was he ready? Don‘t worry. Listen. With a blink the young man stepped back suspiciously as he noticed the mans words and gesture. His eyes doubting the man was a healer, as his mind cursed his obvious weakness. What do I say…
Admin's Note:[/hr] Should I believe him…or will he exploit it, like the others.[/I] He thought bitterly, as his hand tightened on his side. He’s good…trust, you need to trust. The dragon thought softly, as a hint of worry flecked in his whirling eyes.
Biting back an oath S’en leant against Folth’s forearm with a soft sigh. His eyes looking up at his dragon as he spoke. “The short version…” He started bitterly, before shaking his head as he forced himself to soften his tone. “Forgive me…In my previous Weyr I was cut with what must’ve been a dirtied blade, here…on my side.” S’en said softly, as indicated the area he was clutching. “The wound got infected, and for many sevendays I had a high fever…or so I was told. Either way the fever past and eventually the healer announced me well enough to travel. Some said it was too soon…” The man shrugged, earning himself another painful twinge. “Shards…” He hissed as he tenderly rubbed his side.
“They at least…gave me some numbweed before I left. But its still…painful, and sometimes warm to the touch.” S’en admitted finally, as the pain subsided to a dull throb. “We’ve not travelled between…and I just ignore it if I can…” He said in an attempt to brush it off, as he felt the brown tense. “…Sir, do you possibly have any numbweed I could borrow…
Admin's Note:[/hr]” S’en asked with a hopeful note, as he looked upon the nameless healer. “I didn’t have enough to put any on it today…” [/size]
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Jan 2, 2010 10:44:23 GMT -5
Ragule grunted, after the brownrider answered his questions. "I don't know what imbecile calls himself a Healer and cleared you for travel. You look like you've been chewed up and spit out again into a vaguely man-shaped mold." Ragule gestured at him with his free hand as he moved closer a step or two. "Let me see that wound. Once I have a good look at it, I can get you as much numbweed as you like, though I'd advise against it's use. Pain is a messenger after all ... it lets you know you are hurt so you don't hurt yourself again before you are healed." Ragule stated. "Granted, you don't need to be in crippling pain to get that message."
His first concern, naturally, was that wound - and any others the man might have. It didn't sound good to Ragule at all. If it still hurt that bad, after as much time as S'en had implied had passed ... and if it was still hotter than body temperature ... Ragule suspected it was livid with infection, even if it wasn't blood infected yet. "It is good you did not travel between ... if you had, you might well not be conscious right now." Ragule remarked. "You can stop being so twitchy, I'm not going to hurt you, young man."
It had not escaped the old Healer's attention, however, that there was something else going on, too, that S'en had yet to tell. Like why he'd been cut with a filthy blade. It wasn't an accident, of that Ragule was pretty certain. A slip of the hand while working with the blade would not have made that much of a wound to result in what S'en described. On top of that, he would not have been in such a hurry to find a new home if he'd been on good terms with the staff... or a healer turning him out as fine. The whole idea made Ragule mad. If he ever found out what healer had passed that judgement, he'd be writing some severe nastygrams to the Healer Hall about it. That healer deserved to be stripped of his knots. Which brought him right back around to what was going on that had S'en out and about in his condition. But that wasn't particularly any of his business to be asking; that was for the Weyrwoman to find out and deal with. Ragule knew well where the lines of his authority lay.
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Post by seneth on Jan 2, 2010 22:35:20 GMT -5
S’en found himself tensing under the healers scrutiny, as he made a point that he was no mere mold by straightening up. Inwardly glad that despite his past connections, he made no move to defend his past Weyr or its Healer. At an approving rumble from the brown a slight smile crept onto his face. Only to be lost at the advice not to use more numbweed. Almost instantly his mind raged with protests, but after one look at Folth he finally nodded. He couldn’t risk his other half…not after coming so close to loosing him. “I understand healer.” He murmured, as lips twitched into a slight grin at Ragule’s words.
This man really wasn’t like the healer in his past Weyr, but even now he had no intention of causing more trouble for himself or the Weyrs. S’en thought finally as he eyed the man before him. At the mention of between, he nodded slowly as he closed the distance between them. “Its not me I’m worried about…” He said softly as his eyes glazed over. Whatever happens I’m okay…he’s going to help… S’en thought soothingly to the brown, as his right hand released his left side to pull up his tunic. This exposed a torn but clean cloth. “I had bandages…but I ran out clean ones,” The man murmured softly as he tenderly pealed it off.
Underneath was a weeping diagonal knife wound that, grazed across his exposed ribs and down to his side. As the cooling air brushed against the wound he bit back another hiss of pain. His mind too distracted to care about his vulnerable state, as he closed his eyes with a silent oath. It’s just…cold… He reassured the dragon, as the cold against the warm, red and slightly swollen injury, stung as much as it soothed.
It took a little while for the bitter sting to subside, as he forced his eyes open to catch the healers reaction. “I did…what I could,” He managed weakly, as he hoped whatever bothered the healer was of no fault of his own.
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Jan 3, 2010 20:18:36 GMT -5
Ragule bent a bit, relying on his cane to keep him from toppling all the way to the ground. Getting up from there would be hard, given the cramping state of his knees. He frowned a bit at the sight of the wound, before reaching out and gently touching the rider's skin a few inches away from the wound itself. "Well ... it's not raw." He mentioned. "But nor is it at all well healed. I suspect there's some minor infection in there, but it doesn't look too bad." Straightening, he gave the Rider's face a look, which told him a lot, as well.
"Don't put that bandage back on it, let it drain. It may stain your shirt, but at this point, I wouldn't worry about that. Just as soon as you can manage, I want you to come to the infirmary where we can get you cleaned up properly. I'll apply a new bandage, then. For now, just let it seep. It'll do it good. And yes, I'll get you numbweed. So long as you swear to not numb it out to the point where you can't feel it at all." Having a wound like that rip back open again would not be a good thing at all... and being totally numb might allow just that to happen.
Ragule patted the man on the shoulder, reassuringly. "It would do you good to take a prolonged steep in a hot bath as well. Does wonders for the mind and body, not to mention a wound. You'll be alright."
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Post by Spirithawk on Jan 3, 2010 22:56:58 GMT -5
((OOC: Blasted proboards ate my post. Seneth honey, could you please not put your text any smaller than 2. It is hard to read on a computer screen))
IC:
Christae took the charcoal and penciled in some more check marks on the well-used hide she was using to keep track of supplies. The Weyrwoman was dusty and there were a few cobwebs in her hair. She had been checking on some of the herbs they used for cooking and healing. They weren't as low on some of them as she had thought, but they were low on others. Their supply of needlethorn would not hold up to Thread, even though it was adequate for now. There should be some patches on the western side of the continent ready for harvesting. She would see to it that a party was sent out to get some.
A flitt emerged and began chittering, sending images of a big dragon and a limping Healer. What was that healer's name? Ragule?
Kaith love, what is he trying to tell me?
It seems we have a newcomer. Could that be what he is talking about? The giant Queen craned her head out of her weyr and peered down at the Bowl where the newcomers had landed.
I guess it doesn't hurt to check.
You will want to greet the newcomers anyway since you are so close.
Indeed. She brushed some of the dust off, but she had a few smudges on her face. Her boots were loud on the stone floor in the quiet storerooms, but the noise level elevated when she emerged into the bustling kitchens. The drudges, under the watchful eye of Headwoman Uslanee were preparing breakfast for the weyr. She grabbed a trio of mugs and a pitcher of fruit juice as she passed.
She strode quickly up to the pair and the dragon waiting for her outside the Weyr. "Welcome to Dark Moon." Her smile died as she saw the grey tint to the dragon's hide and the pained look of the rider. "Shards, what happened here?" Her brown eyes turned to Ragule for answers.
"Let's get him into the infirmary and out of the sun. Your dragon can stay in one of the ground floor weyrs for now. If he needs food, I will have a drudge bring him some. Where is your injury?" She had all but forgotten that Ragule was a Healer since she was used to dealing with some of the injuries herself while they were in between Healers.
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Post by seneth on Jan 4, 2010 19:20:46 GMT -5
Watching the healer lean forward, thoughts of the man falling was in the forefront of S’en’s mind. As he wondered if he’d the strength to offer the man a steadying hand or support. It was only when the man touched near the wound, resulting in an involuntary flinch, that he focused again. At the mention that it was only a minor infection he visibly sighed in relief, as he took away the cloth and pulled his shirt down. “Thank you healer…sir…” He breathed with a relieved smile, as he gave the brown a reassuring thump. There was no reason this man would lie to him, he thought, nodding occasionally as he took in the healers instructions. On the mention of numbweed, his expression became serious, his hand resting on Folth. “On my dragon I swear not to be so reckless…” He nodded smiling up at the man, as thoughts of a hot bath played on his mind.
It was then the brown turned to the healer his head lowered as he asked the man. So no more…fev…fe-v-er, yes? Stunned into silence S’en looked up at his partner. “Fever…” He said softly, surprised that his dragon of few words had addressed the healer himself.
At the approach of a woman the worry about whether he’d be allowed to transfer here or not hit him hard. His only instinct was to defensively withdraw into his shell, wincing as he moved to clutch his side again. Biting back an oath his hand dropped back to his side, as he wearily eyed her brisk step, the smudges and the mugs. At her exclamation he winced, “F…Folth’s okay,” He murmured speaking up for himself. “He’s been eating…a little lighter than usual…I couldn’t convince him otherwise. But he is healthy…” S’en said defensively, as he turned to study the brown, his expression tender. “He was…is worried…” He said softly before adding as an after thought, “Its only an old injury…” S’en murmured, his hand hovering over his side.
Suddenly with a shake of his head he quickly added, “Master healer…sir, has looked at it…says I’ll be all right.” He said with a grateful smile before straightening, “I’m Folth’s rider S’en…” The man said in way of introduction, as he offered a tense salute.
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Jan 5, 2010 0:34:34 GMT -5
Ragule nodded, simply, before taking a step forward and resting a hand on the dragon's broad snout. He gave the creature a friendly, reassuring pat. "Don't you worry, everything will be just fine." the old Healer commented, apparently not at all perturbed at being spoken to by a dragon. At his age, it had happened before, and more than once. He did understand that it wasn't easy for a dragon to speak to anyone other than their rider, so the meaning was not lost on him at all.
He turned a bit, as Christae arrived. Taking a moment to execute a very shallow bow of respect to her (not too much for he didn't want to topple), he smiled a bit at her. "You don't have to worry, ma'am. He's not dying at the moment. I'll get him fixed up properly here in a moment. But the lad wanted to talk to you first about possibly handling his transfer to Dark Moon." He explained, filling in the gaps where S'en had left holes. Ragule understood there was something that was making S'en entirely twitchy ... but after having acquired a wound like that, anyone would be twitchy.
"I do think he could use some of that, though." Ragule gestured at the mugs and juice she had brought. "Would go well with hearing his story, methinks." Come to think of it, he rather wanted some of that, too... it was a nice morning after all, and soon enough he'd be up to his elbows in dealing with that wound.
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Post by Spirithawk on Jan 6, 2010 1:40:31 GMT -5
Christae breathed a sigh of relief. Pern needed every dragonrider if she was to survive the menace that was threatening the life and limb of all living organisms on the planet.
Rest easy Folth. Your rider is in good hands. If you need anything, feel free to bespeak me. I am Kaith, senior Queen here at Dark Moon.
"Let's get him inside and settled so that his wound can be tended to before we talk of transfers." She strode forward to help support the brownrider, because the Healer couldn't handle more weight than his own.
Once they were in the infirmary, Christae turned to the rider. "Wanting to transfer are you? We won't turn any away. We need the help. But I'd like to know what happened to you, and why it is you're transferring. It is rather odd that you're here this early, and that you were cleared to travel in this condition."
Need me to put pressure on the dragon? Something bothers him about this transfer. He is not easy with this but I can't pinpoint why without questioning him.
Let them tell us on their own love.
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Post by seneth on Jan 7, 2010 20:47:47 GMT -5
Focusing his eye on the healer, Folth offered a soft croon at the man’s touch. This man is good… He reassured his rider, his tone thoughtful and amused. Trust him… The brown added softly, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
S’en studied his dragon before offering a distracted nod, I think I might… He added, his hands itching to straighten out his riding gear and comb back his hair. His expression tense and dumbstruck. What am I surprised for…not all Weyrwoman are the same, He thought twitchily, wondering If he should attempt a bow. Would she take offence if he didn’t? Chancing a glance in the healers direction, he realised they were speaking about him and his ‘story’.
It was then the brown stretched his neck up to look in the direction of the Queens weyr. Thank you… He rumbled gratefully, before settling back down.
Shards Folth are we doing the right thing…
Admin's Note:[/hr][/I] S’en asked, reaching out to his dragon for reassurance, his hand caressing the brown hide. Would they…believe what I say… He thought weakly, admitting his main worry since the day he’d been ordered to transfer. Suddenly before he could protest, he found himself being approached by the Weyrwoman.
Instinctively he tensed and it took all in his power not to step away as she offered him support. His eyes looking to Folth, he found his mind quickly flooded with the browns reassurances. Murmuring a soft, embarrassed word of thanks, he relaxed enough to take the strain off his chest. Submitting himself to being lead away from Folth and towards the Infirmary.
Glancing away only to check his riders possessions, Folth’s rapidly whirling eyes followed S’en’s movements into the Weyr. It agitated him slightly that he couldn’t follow or defend his rider within the stone. So with a sniff he hunched his shoulders and curled his tail from sight. It was strange to think some of his ways had altered too. But that didn’t matter now, as he used their bond to listen in on the conversation
Once within the infirmary S’en brushed his long fringe out of his browngold eyes, before softly thanking the Weyrwoman a again. To think he’d just been…with a slight shake of his head he allowed himself to be lead and instructed. His focus only turning back to Christae as she questioned him. At first her only reply was a tense searching expression and a slightly worried frown. As the seconds ticked by these softened and he finally nodded. Accepting that they weren’t attempting to deceive or trick him by pretending they didn’t know.
“Sorry…” He said weakly before clearing his throat. “Forgive me Weyrwoman If I offended you…” S’en said more clearly, embarrassed that he’d just attempted to stare out a queen rider. “We’ve been, between Weyr’s…sorry, not the best expression…” He said with a weak smile before starting again. “It’s been a sevenday since we were ordered to transfer…so forgive me if I’m out of turn in anything I say…” The brown rider explained, hoping to make a good impression. “But like any…story, there’s two sides to it,” He said honestly, wincing as he brushed his arm against his side.
As the pain subsided S’en paused to lick suddenly dry lips, before speaking again. “I…if you wish, I’m not sure of the procedure…but my Weyrle…” With a frown he shook his head, his eyes down cast. “My old…no, ex Weyrleader…will be able to tell you the reason why he ordered it.” S’en said bitterly, closing his eyes. “…theirs is the so called truth, as some prefer the word of a bronze over a brown. It wasn’t like I could defend myself…they thought I was…” The young man trailed off, his face furrowed at the bitter injustice of it all.
There’s no way I can tell them my side without letting them know his…even if it means them rejecting us… He thought to himself, shielding the thought and his distress from the brown. “His is the official…story, the one most of them believe…” S’en admitted finally, his shoulders slumping to accept the weight of her decision.
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Jan 7, 2010 21:38:15 GMT -5
Ragule patted the brown's snout again, before following the two toward the infirmary with a bemused smirk on his face. He didn't say anything though, watching the Weyrwoman help the brownrider along. The man wasn't crippled, he saw no reason why he needed help walking. But who knew? Maybe the woman already had a crush on the rider. That would certainly be odd, but not unheard of. Ragule used his cane to walk, still, but as the day warmed up, he found he needed it less and less. Once back inside, he rested the thing against a handy wall and made his way across the room.
Pulling out a bowl, he filled it with redwort as he listened to the few garbled things S'en managed to say. It sounded a whole lot like he was beating a bush to death, he was going around and around it so often. Ragule shook his head a bit, washing his hands in the redwort to sterilize them, before taking some more and hobbling over to where Christae had put S'en to sit.
"Take your shirt off." Ragule instructed. "And keep your arm up, if you will." He set the bowl of redwort on a handy table, and dipped a rag into it before wringing it most of the way back out. First, to clean the surface of the thing, and then he'd doctor it up good to make it heal better.
"Calm down, lad. She's not going to bite." He added. "I am pretty sure she didn't ask you about their side of the story... and if it's so prevalent, we'll certainly hear all about it. Tell your side, and leave it at that for now." He suggested. "Start at the beginning, and go from there. It's simplest that way."
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Post by Spirithawk on Jan 7, 2010 22:29:05 GMT -5
Christae frowned, something was not right here, and she didn't like it. She didn't like the way the rider was wary of her, and the way he stiffened, but she acted on instinct and remained gentle with him until he relaxed. She found herself stiffening when he asked for forgiveness if he had offended her! This man had done nothing wrong! He had been severely injured and turned out of his weyr and he was apologizing to her!
"Nay. You did not offend me." She reassured him. Something about the brownrider's haunted eyes, his mistrust, and the state he was in set her hackles up, and not against him. That haunted look tore at her heart strings, and made her want to hit whoever had caused him pain. Christae was a motherly person, and she felt the urge to take care of this man who had so obviously been hurt.
"Between weyrs for a sevenday? I can't imagine it." A touch of horror was in her tone. What exactly had happened to this polite man to warrant such a fate?!
When he made the statement about asking his former weyrleader, she started to brush it off, but his statement about someone believing the word of a bronzerider over a brownrider made her hiss in her breath angrily. Her brown eyes fairly threw sparks. Oh she knew all too well how most bronzeriders thought too highly of themselves! Her experience with the son of the Red Star Sh'iron had taught her that well enough!
"If you wish to transfer here, I never wish to hear such garbage come out of your mouth again. A true Weyrleader knows that no rider is better than another. A weyr is nothing without all the colors! Where would the great bronzes be if there were not the steady browns, and the agile greens and blues? They would be threadbait!"
She gestured imperiously to a hovering drudge who had come to give her a message. "Put it on my desk and bring a tray with breakfast for all of us." She hadn't broken her fast and she was certain the two men with her hadn't, especially the brownrider.
She took a calming breath. "Healer Ragule is right. I did not ask your former Weyrleader's side of the story. I asked yours. You need not fear that I will take one side over another because you are a brownrider. My weyr would be nothing if it were not for our brownriders. My WLM and one of my most trusted riders is a brownrider, and a woman at that! The other is a female bluerider. Besides, all I have to do is get Kaith to ask Folth under pressure and he will tell the truth. He won't be able to. I hate abusing my power as Weyrwoman that way though so I trust you to tell the truth."
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Post by seneth on Jan 8, 2010 23:35:22 GMT -5
With a silent nod to the healers instructions, S’en shifted awkwardly out of his shirt. His left arm tensing at the slightest pull or twisting of the injury. Once the arms were out, he felt his face flush at what must’ve been a ridiculous sight as he pulled the shirt over his head. The move helped muffle another oath, before he finally tucked the shirt behind him.
At first S’en couldn’t meet their gaze, his hand hovering over his raw looking knife wound and his too prominent ribs. What would they think of him now…
Admin's Note:[/hr] He thought grimly to himself, whilst slowly lowering his guard to raise his left arm.
In the continued act of avoiding their eyes he glanced up. Upon sighting the older whitened scar he offered a slight smile. His eyes running down its length, from his elbow to his wrist. A physical mark from the moment he bonded with Folth, a cherished scar and a well healed one at that. Suddenly his whole form tensed, “Hatching…Folth…I caught him whilst he was falling…” S’en explained with a rush of words. “Accident…” He added finally as he turned to the Healer, before looking back down onto his lap.
Suddenly at the Weyrwoman’s…horror, S’en looked at her slightly stunned. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded, but without Folth, he wouldn’t have known what to do. The dragon’s words supporting him through the long nights. His usually silent brown, supporting him through the pain and the lingering nightmares. To think he’d been close to loosing the brown, the man shivered.
On the mention of bronzeriders over brownriders the man flinched at her angry hiss. His dejected form wincing at her reaction. I shouldn’t have said anything… The man groaned as he found himself drowned by another scolding… Listen. A soothing voice prompted, and S’en looked up to the Weyrwoman. By the time she turned to order breakfast, his face was a confused mix of embarrassment, slight anger and finally hope. Was all he’d been lead to believe…wrong? Or had it just been that, man‘s, words. S’en thought, rubbing a weary right hand across his brow. He wasn’t sure who or what to believe anymore.
Me… A soothing voice added helpfully. …the healer, and I think her too.
With a soft nod, he glanced to the Healer and then the Weyrwoman. Their words of support ringing in his ears and his mind. To have something so…positive, aimed towards him, made him wonder if it was a cruel trick. But as the woman spoke of brownriders, his once hard expression softened. “P…please don’t pressure Folth,” He said softly to her, a hint of pleading in his tone. “He doesn’t deserve that…” The man added, his haunted eyes looking to her and then the exit. But at the mention of the truth, he looked away with a bitter frown. “The beginning…” He muttered to himself before finally releasing his tension with a sigh.
“It’s hard to say when the true beginning is…there’s not much to say before the hatching. I was Weyrbred and fostered like most Weyrbrats are,” He said softly, his expression sad for he’d been close to his foster mother and the others she’d fostered. “It was…” S’en cleared his throat. “It wasn’t until my 3rd standing that I finally impressed…and poor Folth he was so hungry he tripped. There was no way I was letting him fall so I reached out…” With a slight smile at the long scar on his left arm. “It was then I first met…him. A bronze rider no less…he helped me a lot that day, between this and feeding my dear hatchling. To think he‘d…” S’en shook his head, grimacing as he felt himself tense up.
“Anyway, I didn’t see him for turns then as I trained…but at the time, even us as Weyrlings heard the suspicion that people were stealing from the Weyr. Thinking nothing of it I was too focused on my appointment into a wing. His Wing…the same bronzerider I’d met during the hatching… The man, trained me well…taught me things, and we were soon friends.” S’en sighed, his voice honest and surprisingly grateful. “It was then my father…my birth father, a brownrider, warned me against him. But there was no way I was going to second guess my Wingleader…not when I was his friend, his Wingsecond…” With a bitter smirk he shook his head. “I should’ve trusted my birth father…as in the 5 turns to come, the thieving got worse...”
“Not only food or clothes, but firelizard eggs and precious items. It was also then my…no that, man…” He said bitterly, as he made a point of not saying the bronze riders name. “Started to act strange…I couldn’t understand why, so I confronted him on a beach one evening.” S’en continued his expression hurt, angry. “…and I was stupid enough to bring up the fire lizard eggs. When he didn’t answer I move to reassure him and this…” His voice increased in volume…before he faltered, his face creased in thought. “It happened so quickly…our dragons were there too, sleeping at first but once I was struck…” He shuddered, “I drew my blade in defence only…but then he attacked…”
“Soon both that man and I were injured…but what was worse was seeing the dragons rear up…my brave Folth rising up to his bronze… At worst Folth was scarred at his tail…the bronze…the bronze, lost an eye…” With a shivering breath he knew he’d regret that part more than any other. Even after the bronze had supported that man’s story, over his truth.
“The…the queens came then, and others of the Weyr…but I don’t remember much after that…” He explained weakly. “We returned to the Weyr under guard…then I fell Ill…
“Many seven days past until the day I woke…even then, most feared the worst…but I made a slow recovery…” He said bitterly, as the painful betrayal of those he once knew and trusted clouded his expression. “I was given enough time to be able to walk before my sentencing…the Weyr…the whole sharding Weyr believing I, was the thief and that I, ordered Folth to attack the Bronze. Also that I…” He drew a deep shuddering breath, “…wanted to murder another rider…” With that he slumped, “I was told more than once that they didn’t expect me to survive…and many…many were disgusted that they couldn’t prove my guilt. That was why I was ordered to transfer…because they couldn’t…prove it…” He ended bitterly.
“Soon after It was the…It was recommended I left as soon as possible. My father did what he could as did my foster mother…but with the Weyr convinced of my guilt…I’d been…been brought up alongside most of th…them. Many were my…” S’en shook his head, it’d felt like the whole Weyr had turned their back on him. Also with him barely considered well enough to leave, he’d found it hard to think much on it at the time. But he didn’t want to admit that…he was weak enough already without the healer or the Weyrwoman looking down at him any more. So with a shuddering breath he quickly concluded. “After leaving…me and Folth spent some time alone before we travelled here…”
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Jan 9, 2010 23:08:52 GMT -5
Ragule grunted and grumbled to himself, making no real coherent sounds for anyone else to understand, really. He listened to what the brownrider had to say without any real comments at all, though he was certainly busy. First he swabbed down the rider's entire side, nearly, with redwort, cleaning it thoroughly. That done, the skin suitably stained pink from the concoction, he applied yet another herbal mix to the slice area. This one was a salve made with a strong concentration of lobelia and hot peppers. The first to draw any infection there might be out, and the second to increase blood flow to the area and speed healing.
For a short time, Ragule left the rider alone, as he prepared a bandage to go upon the doctored wound. He was not going to lance it ... there was no need to at the moment. If there was an infection, the herbs would take care of it. And if it did build a head, then he might consider lancing it. But for now, he left the wound closed as it was, treating it topically. Ragule spent a moment considering his bandaging materials, finally choosing an absorbent, yet soft material for the base layer. This he soaked quite thoroughly in a nearly-liquid numbweed solution, to kept ease some of the pain, but yet not dull it out completely. Ragule wanted S'en to remember he was injured, and not make it worse by acting like he wasn't. This layer was set within a coarser, stronger material. Carrying this over to S'en, Ragule carefully placed it just where it needed to be, before taking more coarse material and wrapping it around S'en's chest to hold the bandage in place.
"That should ease things up for you, and help it heal. At night, I want you to take that off, and it would be best if you slept with no shirt on. Let it air out good. In the morning, you come back here, and I'll redress it for you again, with new solutions." That said, Ragule tsked a few times, still rather irritated that some healer had cleared this man for any kind of travel ... much less adragonback.
Done dressing the wound, Ragule wandered off for a moment, before coming back with a natural off-white colored shirt. This, he handed to the rider. It was a fairly soft material, woven gently, and a few sizes to big - to keep from pulling on the bandage when S'en moved his arms around while dressed. "Here. Keep it."
Ragule never did directly comment on the rider's story, however, leaving that squarely in Christae's field. It was none of Ragule's business, as a Healer, and there really was no point in sticking his two marks in there. That healer, however ... that was his business. And he'd certainly be writing up a scathing letter to send to the Healer Hall via Torc. Just as soon as he got a chance too. Regardless of charges, that was just uncalled for. Not to mention morally wrong.
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Post by Spirithawk on Jan 10, 2010 20:21:55 GMT -5
Christae smiled gently. "I would not have Kaith put pressure on Folth unless you didn't want to tell me the truth. It wouldn't harm him. He would just be unable to disobey the order of a Queen."
Christae listened with growing horror. "Dragon on dragon?" she whispered with a shudder. To think that a weyrleader had taken one man's word over another like that just because he was a bronze! A queen could have dragged the truth out of both dragons whether the bronze wanted to lie or not. When his story was done, she was quiet, gathering her thoughts until her Queen interrupted. The gold had been listening to the conversation through her bonded's ears.
I think he is telling the truth. He would do well here. Folth is a fine, strong brown, and S'en will be strong once Ragule is finished with him.
"I agree Kaith. His words ring true. He has a home here for as long as he wants it." The Weyrwoman said absently. Then she focused back and realized that she had spoken aloud. "S'en, it would have been a simple matter to clear your name. A Queen could have made his bronze tell the truth, much in the same manner that Kaith would have gotten the story from Folth. However, I am saddened by the fact that you were tried and condemned for the simple fact that you were ranked lower than your adversary. I trust that Folth has healed properly? I am trained in dragon healing like any other Weyrwoman. Considering the job they did on you, I would like to take a look at Folth to make sure he is well."
"Why here?" she asked with curiosity in her voice. "It is not common knowledge that my Weyrleader abandoned us before his dragon's eggs even hatched, so what drew you here?"
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Post by seneth on Jan 12, 2010 22:00:12 GMT -5
In amidst the bitter pain and the memories, the young rider was too immersed in his retelling to feel much of what the Healer was doing. His side occasionally giving an involuntary twitch or shiver as something new was applied. Any sting of pain, lost in his bitter frowns or grimaces.
It wasn’t until Ragule left that he glanced down, his eyes taking in the extent of the Healers work. If anything he was indebted to the Weyr for this, he thought, wincing as he shifted in his seat. The raw throb back in the forefront of his mind. I’d do anything for some… Suddenly S’en inhaled sharply, as something cold…the bandage, was applied. But as it started to seep in with a long sigh he slowly started to relax again. Diluted or not it took off the edge, he thought gratefully.
At the healers instructions, he accepted them without question. But as Ragule said he should return the next morning, S’en looked to the Weyrwoman and then back to the Healer. He really didn’t want to overstay his welcome, or use up the Weyr resources if his transfer wasn‘t accepted. Then when he was given the shirt…looking around again, his hand caressed the soft material. “Thank you…healer…” He smiled gratefully, whilst his mind raced to recall the man’s name. When he couldn’t come up with any, he concealed a troubled frown as he carefully pulled on the shirt.
From the first reassuring words Christae had offered, it’d gradually starting chipping down the walls in S’en’s mind. Breaking down his suspicions and his distorted view of the Weyrs. This Included the worry that others in Eastern might’ve pressured or harmed Folth whilst he was ill. He quickly buried this thought, as his right hand gently rested on his side.
When the Weyrwoman spoke aloud, he had to admit he was genuinely surprised. Hope lighting up his haunted eyes, as he listened to her final judgement. In truth he didn’t know whether a Queen had spoken with Folth or the bronze, for a lot of things had happened whilst he was ill. Suddenly at the mention of Folth’s wounds and whether that’d healed properly he stiffened. “They wouldn’t dare…” He breathed, a hint of anger in his voice. “Folth never mentioned…” Falenth’s rider and others you were close to helped… A voice rumbled soothingly, releasing some of the tension in S’en’s shoulders. “Folth says he was tended to…but I would really appreciate it If you could possible spare some time to check that he’s fine...” Thinking back on what he said, he winced at the informality of it.
At Christae’s final question he blinked not quite sure what to say. “My father…my birthfather sought me out soon after I’d left with Folth. He has contacts in a few of the Weyrs…” S’en admitted openly. “He suggested I ask here first. I admit I didn’t know much beforehand…but I’m glad I did choose here.” He said truthfully his hand caressing the shirt.
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Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Jan 12, 2010 22:18:55 GMT -5
Ragule nodded, curtly, completely missing that the rider had already forgotten his name. Not that it would have mattered much to him. It helped a lot to disguise that shortcoming in that a lot of people addressed him as 'healer' ... it happened. Even journeymen sometimes got addressed by their profession. It was odd how the habit was more prevalent in Healing than in any other craft, albeit followed closely by Harper. But it wasn't something he was going to ponder over.
He reached up and patted the man on his good shoulder. "You'll do alright, lad. You'll do alright. Just breathe, everything will be fine. Weyrwoman Christae will get it all cleared up and straight away. Tell you what, why don't you come along, while we take a closer look at that beast of yours?" He suggested, thinking that it would help the rider calm down a bit.
He knew he certainly wanted to look more closely at the dragon. He'd only given it a cursory inspection before. Knowing that it, too, had been wounded warranted a closer inspection. While he wasn't exactly a specialist in dragonhealing, he did know a good bit of it. Had to, to be a master of the craft.
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