Intro: Kalaht's Delimma((OPEN to any patrol))

[Spirithawk]

OOC: Please read my post again; they landed. You could have him freaking out since that is a completely natural response, but they are on the ground. Also, think about it, if he started flailing, he'd hit someone. He's tucked onto the dragon with 3 other people. I have no problem with him freaking out, or even hitting someone on accident, but try to pay attention to the details in another person's post.

[seneth]

At P’rin’s assurance Klivin was about to protest, but as he studied the rider it seemed Kilzanth had beaten him to it. Biting back a relieved sigh that they’d be returning to the Weyr, he nodded at the riders explanation. “I’m grateful to you P’rin, but your and Kalaht are more important right now.” He said with a understanding smile, as he did a reasonable job of mounting up.

Once settled he braced himself, his eyes fully appreciating the size and the might of the bronze as he carried them upwards. At the mention of a Harper Apprentice his ears pricked in interest. “I’d be more than happy to teach…” He told the rider as he curiously wondered how far she’d gotten in her training. With that on his mind, his body gave a start as they entered between.

As they reappeared over the Weyr he let out a small sigh, “Your alright lad…

---

Admin's Note:[/hr]” He called to the boy hoping his voice wasn’t lost in their descent. Once they’d landed, he tensed as Kalaht started to hyperventilate. “Your okay…take slow deep breaths…” He instructed as he dismounted kicking up his own pool of dust. “There’s no rush…” He told P’rin. “I’d rather see you both to the healer…” Klivin protested whilst eyeing the wounded pair.

[Spirithawk]

P'rin stayed on the great bronze neck to help Kalaht down after the Harper dismounted. After the boy was safely on the ground, albeit freaking out.

"Easy lad, we're safe and we need to get that knife wound tended to. It's enough to turn any boy's head riding a dragon for the first time. You get used to the sensation, but I never tire of the feeling of being on his back and the views are amazing."

"Let's get you to a healer. "

Priath, are you and yours busy?

A dark, forest green dragon raised her head from one of the ledges.
No. We just got back from our patrol. You and your rider return late. All is not well?

P'rinmine got hurt. There were bandits attacking travelers. The dragon's eyes whirled with flecks of red, and the green's eyes mirrored them momentarily.

Will he be ok?

Yes. We brought the Harper. We were wondering if you minded coming to bring him to pick up his things and his son.

We would be happy to! Anassamine has been looking forward to his arrival. Tell him we will be there shortly. Anassamine is bathing.

He will be in the infirmary.

"Kil said Anassa and Priath would be happy to take you. She's bathing right now so when she's done she'll meet you in the infirmary." P'rin led the way into the infirmary, asking a drudge to find Ragule.

[Marnark’tranarprol]

Ragule looked up when an out of breath drudge ran up to him. "What? What? What is it?" he asked, unable to decipher much of what was said. However, he didn't really have to - people only generally reacted like that when someone was hurt really bad. Grabbing up his bag that was always packed to go for emergencies, he hurried out of the infirmary. Pausing outside, he shaded his eyes with his free hand to try and see where to go. Thankfully, the drudge had followed, and pointed the way. With a nod, Ragule started in that direction.

Only, instead of running as one might have expected, he merely strode. The long strides ate up the ground, however, by no means slow. Running not only would hurt his already achy knees, but would also wind him - something else his battered old frame could not handle. Especially not if he was going to be expected to do something that would require fine dexterity.

"What happened, and who's hurt?" Ragule asked, upon arriving on the scene, though he didn't really need to ask - wounded people tended to advertise the affliction through their body language.

[seneth]

Following both Kalaht and P’rin, the Harper kept an eye on the pair, envisioning one or the other falling and hurting themselves further. I hope neither have any lasting damage… He breathed, brushing aside his long fringe. “How are you feeling lad…

---

Admin's Note:[/hr]” Klivin asked the boy, his eyes looking to the rider and back.

At the announcement of their conveyance he smiled gratefully, “Thank you again rider P’rin, how far is the…” Suddenly his eyes caught the appearance and approach of a tall man. With his purposeful stride and bag in hand, Klivin instinctively marked him a Healer. Raising his hand in greeting he indicated Kalaht and then P’rin. “Attacked by bandits…Kalaht here stabbed in the left shoulder, lost a decent amount of blood. He also fell unconscious soon after being stabbed…I did what I could to staunch the flow.” He said briskly, his voice clear and level. “Also P’rin…” Klivin added, indicating the bronze rider before respectfully falling silent. It wasn’t his place to speak for the man, but if he tried to brush it off, then not even thread fall could still the Harpers toungue.

[Drgnwlf71]

Kalaht sighed and winced.

The color in his face was fading, already.

"I am doing......" he lost his balance and felt a little dizzy. "not well. Having trouble hearing...it's all garbled." Kalaht was a intelligent boy, wise beyond his years. There were certain things that he didn't understand and this was one of them. He didn't understand why he was feeling like this. Closed off. Not really there. Maybe it was because of his injury, or the blood loss....or maybe it was due to the fact of losing a brother.

Kalaht was not feeling well at all. He raised up his left arm and looked at it. Terror washed acrossed his face as he felt the numbness creep into his arm. He hardly showed any fear at all. For a boy at such a young age, that was unsual. He appeared to be fearless but in actuality he could hide it well.

"I can hardly feel my arm, now." He informed Ragule. "What's going on with me? Am I going to die?"

[Spirithawk]

OOC: If he is about to pass out, he wouldn't be shouting. He wouldn't have the strength to shout. His color would have been pale from the beginning, you could have just mentioned it instead of saying that it was just starting. Why would he lose feeling in his legs? He was stabbed in the shoulder. He would feel dizzy and lightheaded like you mentioned, and he could collapse, but he would feel the numbness in his arm before his legs.

IC:

P'rin looked up with relief when Ragule entered the room. He glanced at Klivin when he said his name and then stopped and he realized that the other man probably didn't know the extent of his wounds. He jerked his chin in the direction of the young man they had rescued. "The boy needs to be tended to first. He was injured before me. There's a compress on his wounds, like the Harper said, but it needs to be cleaned. We were attacked and I don't know how clean their knives were."

The bronzerider's shirt was stained with blood, and he was a bit pale, but he wasn't as pale as the lad. "I can wait." He said. He didn't go to help when the boy passed out. He wouldn't be any help carrying the lad with his side. He would be more likely to open the cut more. "I'll need some stitches when you are done. Kalaht freaked out a bit when we went *between.* You'll probably have to calm him when he wakes back up."

The bronzerider was glad that they had begun making their way to the infirmary when they landed. They were that much closer to the place where they needed to be to be treated. The cut on his side burned, and he didn't want to think about the potentially nasty things that had entered his flesh when the blade bit. He had been careless, something he would have to remedy next time he was faced with a confrontation.

[Marnark’tranarprol]

Ragule nodded curtly, and set his bag aside before lending both hands to steering the youth across the floor to a place to lay down. Getting his head lowered would help keep him from passing out so quickly. "You'll be alright, you aren't going to die. It's just a stab - not nearly so bad as what thread might do to a body." Ragule spoke evenly, slowly, and in low tones that were both clear and easily understood, trying to reassure the lad even as he worked. An extremely sharp knife was rendered to slice the stained and torn shirt off of the weak lad, the razor edge of the blade creating very little pull on the material at all as it sliced through.

His well-trained hands worked quickly to first numb the area a little bit with some thin weight numbweed, before he washed the wound down with redwort-tinged water, cleaning all the blood, and any contaminants out of the wound. That done, he used a stronger redwort solution to really clean and sanitize the depths of the wound. Holding it closed with one hand, Ragule pulled a pre-threaded needle thorn out of a small pouch nearby. Shaking the coils out of the catgut, he proceeded to stitch up the sliced muscle inside the wound. The last knot tied, he pinched the skin closed with his hand again as he reached for a new needlethorn. "Should heal up like new, but I suggest not using that arm at all if you can help it. Until this heals, anyway. Torn stitches is a very bad thing, especially on the inside." He used a bit of linen for the skin stitches, instead of catgut, stained red with redwort. After just a few minutes, a fine line of pink knots marched across the wound. Ragule set the needlethorn aside, and washed it with redwort again before applying more thin numbweed. Just enough to ease the pain, and not enough to entirely erase the pain - to serve as a reminder to not abuse the arm or muscle cluster. A cloth bandage was then carefully laid over the wound, and bound in place.

"You come see me twice a day, lad. Do not skip, if you do, you could get a serious infection." A quick step to a cabinet, and Ragule stirred some red powder into a mug of water. By the time he was done, the water was almost as red as redwort solution, and considerably darker. "Here, drink this. All of it, I don't care how hot it is, or how much it makes you feel like your head just exploded." Ragule advised, pressing the mug into the lad's hands. "The faster you drink it, the easier it'll be." He advised. It didn't hardly have a smell at all.

That done, Ragule turned on P'rin. "Now, you, off with that shirt, and have a seat before you fall down." He ordered, briskly, familiar with how bronzeriders tended to be. Often acting tougher than they really were. "Time to get you tended to, too." He gestured at the nearest place where P'rin could sit.

"Are you sure you are not wounded?" He asked, of the third member of the group, even as his attention and gaze were on P'rin. The lad would either drink the hotpepper drink, or he wouldn't. If he did, it would get his bloodpressure way back up again, and keep him from passing out.

[seneth]

Noting the ashen tones of the boys features, Klivin offered a reassuring hand to steady the lad. His eyes taking in everything from the boys terror, to the angle of the riders chin…his bloodied shirt. The habit was so well drummed into him that it was almost instinct to look at the finer details. And yet I failed to see the extent of the riders injury… He reprimanded himself, whilst following the healer to where he lay Kalaht. Riders aren’t immune to injury…though I’ve heard of their chivalry, which on the occasion can boarder on stubbornness. I wonder if its better to either ignore their pride, or take into consideration… The Harper wondered, allowing his mind to mull things out rather than focus too much on the healing processes before him.

Positioning himself close enough to offer reassurance without over crowding, he smiled down at the lad. “Your doing well there Kalaht…now drink all that up,” He added reinforcing Ragules instructions, his hands ready to support the lad if needed.

As the healer attended to P’rin, Klivin caught both the tone and the manner he used with the injured bronze rider. Storing that away for future reference, he was surprised at having himself addressed by the Healer. “I‘m sure, Harpers word on it,” He told the man levelly. Nothing a cup of wine wouldn’t be able to settle…but later. Hopefully I can coax both men and rider Anassa to share the wine skin I have with my packs. Klivin thought with an inward smile, as he wondered how many northern wines found themselves here. I can also introduce Fin to Kalaht. He added, grateful again to P’rin that he’d be able to bring his son here today. The boy was practically itching to set his eyes on the Weyr and the dragons.

[Drgnwlf71]

Kalaht drunk the liquid as directed. Ugh, it tasted bitter. He almost vomited it tasted so bad and it felt that his head would explode. When he finished, he choked on it and coughed. His left arm spasmed and it moved upward a little and back down.

"I didn't do that." he informed. Kalaht was a small boy and had been told that he was weak and would not amount to anything by his mother all his life and he was fragile. More so now that his brother was dead. He was susceptible to anything now. He was still angry but didn't show it.

[Spirithawk]

P'rin gritted his teeth as he watched the lad get sewn up, knowing that he would soon be facing similar. The knife cut on his own side was long, and not very shallow, but not so deep that he would be out of action for long, he hoped. The bronzerider hated being injured. He always had work to do and this would slow him down for a few days at the very least. He had some mending he could do, but that was busy work that wasn't very important.

Kilzanth would need to be washed and oiled soon, especially after he hunted. The dragon hadn't hunted in a sevenday and soon he'd have to take him out to do that. No matter how fastidious the bronze was about his red-tinged hide, he couldn't avoid getting dirty when he hunted. P'rin hated the fact that he would likely have to ask for help in cleaning and oiling his dragon. He would also have to take a break out of the wing he flew with.

P'rin grinned at the Healer. "As you say sir." He tried to appear a lot more nonchalant than he was feeling, simply because it was easier than admitting that his side burned like fire and he was feeling a little weak, though nowhere near as weak as Kalaht had been.

He carefully tried to pull the shirt off, wincing and biting back a cry of pain when the cloth was pulled away from the wound. "Shard it. I won't be using this shirt again anyway." He took his knife and cut the shirt off at the shoulders, letting the torn cloth fall to the floor. The wound was bleeding sluggishly now that the compress was off. "That looks nasty." His mouth pressed in a thin line. He hadn't looked at the wound before. He slumped to the seat, not wanting to pass out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young greenrider twirled happily in place when Priath told her that the Harper was here and she was being asked if she could help transfer his things. The dark, black dappled forest green crouched down to help her rider put the straps on her back. Anassa hurriedly changed into her riding gear, pulling her sun-streaked brown hair into a runner-tail. It was time for a cut since it was past her shoulders now. She rushed down to the Weyrwoman's office to make sure she was allowed to do it and then dashed into the Weyr.

Where are they? She asked her dragon.

They are in the infirmary.

Infirmary! Oh no are they ok?

Kilzanth said that his got hurt. He said he will be okay but I don't know more.

Anassa rushed into the infirmary to make sure her friend would be ok. She arrived in time to see the nasty gash on the bronzerider's side as he sat down. Her face paled a bit, especially when she caught sight of the boy who was already patched up.

"Will everyone be alright?" She asked Ragule and the Harper. She gave a slight bow. Even though she was a rider and not required to bow to any craftsmaster, she still showed a master of her craft the respect he deserved. She hoped he would be able to finish the small amount of training she needed to become a Journeywoman.

"Anassa, rider of green Priath, Apprentice Harper at your service Harper."

[Marnark’tranarprol]

Ragule noted the flush that rushed to the lad's features after he drank the hotpepper solution, pleased to see that it was working already, bringing some life back to his features. He turned to P'rin, and waited patiently as the rider extricated himself from his own garments, willing to allow the man to preserve as much of his pride as he could in getting out of his own shirt. He tsked at what he found underneath, however, fetching over the redwort again. Ragule spent a moment carefully clearing that out, even as he heard a young lady come dashing in.

"They'll live." He answered, as he worked. "Slowly, for a time, but they'll live." there was no reason to get worked up now, after all. There was no longer anything immediately life-threatening. "Hold still. This might hurt a bit." Ragule warned, before he tenderly washed the deeper sections of the cut. Since it was a wide cut, it was easier to make sure the depths were clean, instead of being a narrow puncture. Satisfied that the wound was clean, finally, he set his bowl of redwort aside, draping the cloth over the edge. Retreiving a jar of numbweed, he applied a thin amount of that to the wound and the skin surrounding it. More was applied to the skin than the wound itself, and for good reason. He didn't want to leave too much inside the wound when he stitched it up, as too much would cause more harm than good. Also, he didn't want it entirely dead, lest the rider try to do something and make the wound worse. A little bit of ache went a long ways to preventing reinjury, after all. However, he did want the skin edges as dead as he could manage, so he wouldn't be causing new pains when he made each stitch.

Ragule set the jar aside when he finished, and took a moment to string new needlethorns while waiting for the numbweed to take full effect. "This is not to say this is nothing - these are some pretty serious wounds you two are sporting." He said, sternly. "It's not a nice thing, at all, and it rather concerns me that some people are feeling free to do this kind of blatant violence."

With his linen thread, he began the process of stitching the two sides of the cut together, and tying a knot before severing the thread and starting again, to make a new knot a quarter inch away from the first. It was probably creating some really weird feeling pulling sensations for P'rin, but hopefully no additional pains.

[seneth]

Offering the lad a reassuring smile, he was relieved at the results of the solution. A fleeting thought wondering if some of the plants or methods used, varied from those he knew. But that’s not important now… Looking over to Ragule, and P’rin, he bit back a sigh. No boy or man should have to go through such a thing. He thought giving the boy a reassuring pat. “Rest now lad, your in good hands,” The Harper nodded, there was no doubt that he’d start looking into the Bandit situation.

At the sound of hurried footsteps he looked up, Not more trouble… He straightened, his expression guarded. No need to worry the boy anymore… But as the green rider questioned Ragule he relaxed, a reassuring smile playing on his face. “It’s a pleasure meeting you Green rider Anassa,” Klivin bowed, showing the rider the respect she deserved. Biting back a smile his brown eyes glistened, “I’m grateful to both yourself and Priath, I’m Journeyman Harper Klivin.”

[Drgnwlf71]

Kalaht looked up at Klivin. "Klivin, what is a Harper? I have never heard of such a craft. All I know is what my parents told me. I used to live a very sheltered life at home. My parents didn't let me go anywhere, not even out to play. They both belittled me, talked down to me. They made me believe I was worthless and I would never amount to anything." He said. "I have no doubt that they were the ones who hires those bandits to get rid of my brother. Tommy wasn't theirs, they agreed to foster him. I loved him, Klivin. Why do people do such things? I want whoever did this to die. My father didn't even have time to teach me my figures, how to read and write. He had these people I didn't even know to teach me." Kalaht said, yawning. "I will rest but it not be peaceful."

At the sound of a stranger, Kalaht by instinct went for his knife without even looking to see who to was. He looked to see and it a greenrider. He relaxed again and tried to rest. His sleep was riddled with bad nightmares of his brother.

[seneth]

Klivin’s eyes widened slightly, Kalaht seemed too intelligent a boy not to know his teaching ballads. If anything his parents must’ve been Harper taught, even if he was sheltered. He mused, eyes narrowing slightly. Children didn’t often see things from their parents eyes…also to have problems with a fosterling? I’m in no place to judge them… Klivin thought, biting back a saddened sigh. “I don’t know why lad, but now isn’t the time to think on such things,” He nodded squeezing his arm. “But one thing you’re definitely not, is worthless Kalaht.” The Harper added, a stern note in his voice. “Now lad please rest, we can talk on it more later.” He said softly, smiling to take the edge. “As for those people your father asked to teach you…they were probably Harpers like myself…” Klivin added, patting him. “I’ll come and see you later lad…”

At Anassa’s entrance, he caught Kalaht’s movement. “Your safe here Kalaht,” He murmured indicating the boys knife alongside his own. “I’ll look after it for you…now, please rest.” Klivin said softly watching as the boy gradually succumbed to sleep.

[Drgnwlf71]

Kalaht nodded. He still didn't FEEL as though he was safe. There were too many people that wanted him dead or alive. Bad people. He was scared to even fall asleep. He fought it until sleep won the battle. He began dreaming. It started how his dreams always start, happy. It was of the happy memories of his brother and as things always did:

-Tommy was teaching Kalaht how to defend himself. The sky darkened as clouds passed in front of the sun. Thunder rolled in the distance and lightening flashed. The clouds got darker and darker, gradually. Tommy had said that it looked like rain and went inside. However, Kalaht stay outside. His parents were yelling at him for staying out. He ran towards the forest. Tommy went after him. Then, the bandits ambushed Tommy. They got on him and stabbed him. Kalaht ran to help but he was dead before he got there. -

"Noooooo! Tommy!!!!" he shouted and awoke in cold sweat. Breathless, he looked around at his surroundings and tried to get up.

"Gotta help Tommy." Kalaht was still in a dream state.

[Spirithawk]

P'rin flashed a smile at Anassa, to reassure himself or her was not really certain in his mind. He tried to keep the smile in place as Ragule washed up the wound, but it was hard and the corners of his mouth trembled just a bit.

"As Healer Ragule said, I'll live." It was a relief when the numbweed was applied. He was a stoic person, but he would never deny that getting slashed like that hurt worse than Falarn's claws nicking him as he launched from his arm ever did. Even nicking himself with the knives he used to punch holes in the leather or to cut hides weren't anywhere near this painful. The stitching felt strange, but thankfully painless.

He dared to look when the Healer was finished. "Thank you for stitching me up Healer. I couldn't have gotten the stitches that even if I had been trying to do it myself." He joked, knowing he would have gotten his hide torn off if he had tried to do it himself.

"Anassa, thank you for coming to bring Harper Klivin to pick up his things and his son. Kil would pin me down if I tried to go myself and I think Healer Ragule would help him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`


"It is my pleasure." Anassa replied to the Harper with a blush. She wouldn't have expected him to bow to her. She was She mock glared at P'rin, her hands on her hips. "I think they'd have to get in line to hold you down and hope that Weyrwoman Christae doesn't get to you before the rest do. Honestly, you bronzeriders are too thick headed for your own good."

"Harper, whenever you are ready we can leave. I've gotten clearance from the Weyrwoman to bring you to the Hold and back."


She quieted her voice when the lad went to rest but her kind face wrinkled in a frown of concern when he began to have a nightmare. "Should we wake him? That doesn't seem like a pleasant dream."