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Feynath had started to croon and flirt with the big boys at the meeting of the Weyrleaders, forcing Eirlyn to withdraw a few days early. Long used to the attention a sensual gold inevitably grabbed, she hadn't liked the posturing that had instinctiviely permeated the ranks... and while the concept of all the world's leader chasing her dragon for the prize of leadership had most certainly appealed - what an ego boost! - it was ultimately unwise. The political climate was simply too unstable to welcome such an open flight.

And so, with most of her entourage following her, the Weyrwoman had returned to Malvren and attempted to return to duties. The death of her lover was still too raw, too new for her moods to remain stable and she alternatively swung between cold determination, flashpoint anger, depression, and lusting after some poor man. The volatility of a proddy dragon lent itself strongly to her mood swings and woe to the person caught in her angrier humors. Her chambers remained unchanged, though the blood had been scrubbed and the scars of the bronze's frantic attempts to get to his rider still shone in the rock.

The results of the weyrleader meeting had been unsurprising. There was not enough action as far as she was concerned... but action was being taken. The sooner the source of the man was found, the better.

Sitting at the window overlooking the misty ocean with fog obscuring the horizon, the Weyrwoman sipped klah and smiled to herself as she remembered Flights past. It was such a thrill... and something the riders of the male dragons wouldn't really ever understand, she believed. The greenriders knew it well and she sometimes envied them their promiscuity and raucous, passionate Flights.

Laughing as she found her mind drifting into sensual places, Eirlyn shook her head. It never failed. Her attention span went out the window and she thought like a man every time Feynath grew close to rising, sizing up and judging nearly every nice piece of man that walked by. People noticed too, and for the week leading up the Feynath's Rising, she was never without a nice bit of eye candy or posturing bronze riders.

Sometimes I paid to be a queenrider, after all.

It was then that the sleepy muffle that was Feynath slumbering in the back of her mind came awake and a surge of primal, wanton lust surged through her, causing her to grip her mug tightly. Blood only, love, just blood. Too much meat and they'll catch you too soon... speaking to the Queen via their link as the Queen, glowing and beautiful, swept from her weyr and into the sky, Eirlyn watched the glittering hide rise past her window.

Repeating the mantra over and over to maintain concentration, the woman left her quarters and wandered to the upper levels where one might observe the tangle of wings bodies as the sky filled with earthy hues. She knew she was likewise glowing, exuding a potent sex appeal as she stood to the front and watched Feynath bear a few wherries into the ground, felt her jaws close around them to devour the meat and fought back to will the queen into consuming the blood only.

Around her, the riders began to gather and someone thoughtfully opened a door into the private set of chambers frequently used for guests, sometimes used for current reasons.

With a roar that shook the ground and eyes that whirled a brilliant purple shot through with red, Feynath Rose into the sky and dared any foolish male to catch her in her mating fury. She beat her wings hard, a glittering being of power as she twisted and rose, spiraling into the heights.



How this works
Rising dragon generates set amount of numbers (6d20 for Feynath)
Chasing dragons will roll to match numbers.
First to match all the numbers of the rising dragon wins
During this time RP is not optional. Quality of RP is very important for the contests associated with this game.
Each post must have an action in it, roll once following each of the Queen's posts, please but feel free to post more then once.
The rising dragon does not roll again, but will make an action post of her own after each contestant has rolled
A new NPC Weyrleader has been predetermined, however this is the game in which the browns and bronzes will be awarded.

Rolls for the boys
Bronzes get 4 dice (roll four 20 sided dice in the same post)
Browns get 3 dice (roll 3 20 sided dice in the same post)

For rules regarding the Contest: Click Here!
For a guide to Flights: Click Here!

Numbers to Match
3*, 10, 9, 2, 16, 3*

*Separate Rolls (need to roll a 3 in two separate posts)

Sermianth rumbled loudly to get his rider's attention. He never spoke much even to His. Then again, he didn't have to. Their bond was quite strong and he often preferred images to words. His eyes whirled purple with lust.

M'ale looked up from the scroll he was reading and smirked. Tossing it aside he rose to his feet and went to Sermianth quickly. The queen was rising and they were going to chase her. The brown quickly flew his down to the ground. Many would be trying for the leadership in this flight. M'ale nodded to his dragon and he lept after the queen in a swirl of wings.

His eyes glassed over as he merged with his dragon. Together they could win this flight. Sermianth rumbled challenge to browns, bronzes, and the gold. He was here for a fight.

#s 3*, 10, 9, 2, 16, 3*
Rolled: 2

D'nan had been happily oblivious to his surroundings when the queen's roar had sounded. Both he and his brown, Jacith, had been waiting for this moment! With the recent death of their weyrleader, the rider who's dragon flew Feynath would become the next. D'nan had been waiting for this chance. He'd been waiting for something like this to happen. No, he hadn't expected the death of the Weyrleader--nor had he desired it in any way; but a chance to prove himself. A chance to prove his and Jacith's worth.

Jacith had followed the queen into the air. Feynath's roar may have alerted D'nan to what was going on, but not Jacith. The brown had known. He had waited. And now he would win this flight.

D'nan's mind hadn't fully merged with his dragon's yet. The passion, lust--the sheer desire to catch Feynath--to win--to show the others Jacith's strength!

It was time, the queen was rising, and both the brown and his rider were excited.
How could they not be? This was an important flight for the weyr, and the queen needed the best dragon to fly her. For both a good clutch and a strong weyrleader.

The light brown dragon stretched his wings out, his eyes whirling red and orange in excitement. He did enjoy a good flight, and he took off into the air, chasing after the queen.


Numbers to Match
3*, 10, 9, 2, 16, 3*

Sweeping around in a great, taunting arc, the confident queen's colours flashed through the sky. Gold were never particularly graceful, with their bulk, but there was a power and majesty about them that a Mating Flight maginified ten fold... and she was one of those who was supremely aware of this fact. A jealous queen, she coveted her males in a mating flight and more then once Eirlyn had to make sure no other golds were around when her dragon took to the skies.

Seeing the browns and bronzes launch into the sky with answering roars and great flapping of wings, Feynath roared again, her challenge throaty, angry and lustful at the same time. She was well know for her strength and stamina in a mating flight, the full force of her personality made raw and primal by that instinct driven need.

Angling down to gain some speed, she launched out over the misty ocean, heading into the treacherous fogs - let it never be said she was an easy conquest. None of these males would catch her for her mate was not among them. None of them would be good enough... none of them had really even caught her attention yet, no aerial acrobatics, no jostling and snapping of jaws, no clever attempts to get ahead of the pack. A mob of mindless men.

She roared again, giving hint as to her location as she disappeared into the fog and fairly touch-jumped off a pillar rising from the sea. A simple obstacle, but some would inevitably be caught off guard in their lust for her.

In the Weyr, Eirlyn swayed, keenly aware of the men pressing in around her and cursed when some got to close, the sound a half-hiss half-word as she stepped ahead of them and made it clear the separate would /not/ be crossed. Still, her gaze slid sideways to play over the men, drink in their features, the lines of their shoulders.... she closed her eyes and let her mind go to Feynath, urging her onward, higher, faster, longer.

Along with the cluster of browns that rose into the air, the bronzes of Malvren took wing as well, their varied, metallic hides shining in the watery light of morning, their bellows creating quite the racket. Bronze Onoth, Nananth, Darianth and Shoth, Galzuth and Rovarath shot after the queen that had long been a prize just out of reach. In the passion of a Flight, the mourning for H'trel and Firieth vanished as each of the males strove to catch the queen. She would accept one of them, her nature demanded it, and every one of them was determined to be that one... the one who took up the mantle of leadership, who avenged his death, and stood beside Eirlyn not as a subordinate but an equal.

Bellowing again, Darianth shoulders Galzuth as they gained height, their wings grazing and drawing angry snaps from each of the males. Sleek Shoth streaked by beneath them but clever Rovarath forced the smaller bronze down, breaking the gain in speed. Frustrated, Shoth lashed out at the nearest dragon, having fallen back among the browns and lagging bronzes. Onoth lumbered on, a little behind the leading, agile males and kicked out at one determined male, lashing his tail against another.

This would be no easy flight.

((Feel free to have your dragon be a target of the NPC Bronzes, or interact with them!))

Jacith hissed in outrage as the bronzes moved in. This was his chance! They weren't about to steal it from him! He gave a powerful wing thrust and pushed himself forward. The bronzes were bigger than he was, stronger than he was--but they were also bulkier than he was. With this knowledge, the brown pressed on. He would fly Feynath. She would be his.

She would be his! He gave another hiss of rage; but driven as he was by sheer determination and lust, he could do nothing to prevent the bronzes from what they were doing to others. Couldn't they see this was the wrong time for that? This was a queen flight!

K'tor had been keeping an eye on the Gold for a while, as well as her rider. The signs had been there for several days that she'd been about to rise but Vulith had insisted that he needed to go and feed elsewhere other than the Weyr that morning. He had been about to pounce on a wild runnerbeast when he caught the feelings emitting from the Gold and emerged from Between right as Feynath finished blooding her kills. He could barely wait for his rider to remove himself and was ready to take off with his harness still attached when K'tor forced him to stay "You are NOT going until i have these off Vulith, you know that neither of us will remember to remove these when you return" he scolded while his fingers worked as fast as he could make them. He was eager for this Flight, the chance at being Weyrleader was incredible and he wasn't going to miss it. While he unbuckled the harness Vulith fidgeted and watched the skies and the bronzes or browns.

Then moment the straps were off Vulith took of with a huge bellow, his wingbeats almost sweeping K'tor off his feet. K'tor on the other hand, raced to where the brown and bronze riders gathered nearby Eirlyn. His mind taking time to fully merge with Vulith's so he had time to look over the Weyrwoman, she was a fine, proud woman and even without the Flight, he would be honored to be beside her. He tried to keep part of his mind alert for potential dangers, since a Flight was one of the most vulnerable times, if there were more killers out there he wanted to be ready, but with the bellow of Feynath and Vulith in the air, he was in the same state of nearly everyone else, seeing through the eyes of their Dragon, vying to touch and be close to Eirlyn.

Vulith, gaining on the other dragons got lashed by the tail of Onoth and he snarled, claws slashing at the offending tail as he strove to gain lost ground on Feynath. Oh she was so brightly shining, he wanted to catch her, hold her in his claws, father her eggs and be beside her. All this time he'd been beaten to her by Firieth and by Faranth it was HIS time, he wasn't about to let himself be beaten.

3*, 10, 9, 2, 16, 3*

[Numbers to match: 3, 10, 9, 2, 16, 3
Rolled Numbers: --, 10, --, 2, --, -- ]


He took in a deep breath, enjoying the scents that swirled around his senses before exhaling with a hiss of excitement. Large wings were stretched out to their max as his eyes began to whirl with spots of lustful violet. His head swayed ever so slightly as Keilmanth watched the Queen. Yes, he would chase! He knew and understood fully what it would mean should he catch her, and he was alright with this. The chance to chase and participate in Her flight was the source of his real excitement. A Queen was rising. And he must answer this call with all that he was. Or something like that.

When Feynath roared and took to the skies, Keilmanth returned her roar with a bellow of challenge of his own. She was daring them, was she? Well. With a quick glance around as he launched into the air after her, Keilmanth felt a very small bit of smugness that so many gave chase and accepted the Queen's dare. He roared again, this time with the excitement he felt. Pumping his wings hard, the bronze worked to catch the air thermals that could give him an advantage while flying.

She teased and taunted them, flying into the fog. Only glints of her lovely golden hide flickered through the fog as the chasers followed. Several more bronzes became aware to him as they bellowed and bumped one another around. Keilmanth hissed at any that got too close, not wanting to be knocked of course in the slightest. Violet encased his eyes completely and he hissed again when another bronze got too close. Funny, Keilmanth didn't seem to have much problem with the browns around him. Wings working again, he let out a surprised bugle when a pillar rising out of the ocean appeared in front of him out of the fog. It forced him to twist around and lose some distance between himself and Feynath. Curses, he couldn't let himself be distracted by the frustrated bronzes!