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Rochelle - 55

Oh shaff shards <********>, explosion. Rochelle had been in enough bright painful situations to know when to duck. She curled into a tight ball with Sassy in her lap, legs protecting him and her hands over her neck. Nothing hit them, though the little dragon shrieked and flailed against her. The door became nothing but shards of wood, crumbled, and Rochelle scrambled to her feet.

"Go home, Sassy!" the firelizard took to the air and shrieked back at the roar of Malcarreth before disappearing back to the Weyr. Rochelle took a minute to make sure she still had clothes on (or at least that the sharding underwear they left them in hadn't fallen off, thanks, Wherholders). Then she ran like a bat out of hell, half tripping and stabbing her feet once or twice with bits of refuse.

Malcarreth! Huge, brightly colored, loud Malcarreth and his equally loud rider. Her eyes latched on the blue - thankfully still smaller than most of his color - and she bolted once again. Rochelle matched him scream for scream with her own hoarse yell of "C'tis!" when she ran to be at the large man with the knife. One hand keeping her decent, the other reached for him. Rochelle slammed into his chest, saying nonsense things and clinging, her grossness and scarred face and half-gone hair be damned.

-----

Siata - 2

Ow.

She blinked back into conciousness from the black fog of pain during the explosion. Schrapnel fell short of hitting her, though the explosion made her wince back; the brightness of it hurt the dark-acclimated wherhandlers eyes. Still, she stumbled to her feet when seeing others flee, one thick hand pressed to the bandages on her chest. Where her chest had been? Still was? Siata didn't look down or even care much. Her fever burned as much as the whers claws, keeping her from walking in a properly straight line.

She saw the black dragon first, who she assumed to be his rider yelling at them to come on. Amid the wreckage and noise, she stumbled, bruised and pulling at her not-quite-healing cuts in the general direction towards the dragons.

S'dekai - Forfeiting his spot for Siata

As far as the prisoners went... Well, S'dekai was one of the lucky ones. His leg had been wrenched horribly when Pioth went down with his rider still in the straps; the force of a bronze dragon's neck landing on top of that leg had left it feeling rather like someone had tried to rip it out of its socket. But there were no bones broken, no horrific gouges from wher teeth and claws, no fever setting in. S'dekai had been taken captive while he was still conscious and aware - and fortunately for him Canoake hadn't opted to torture him for kicks.

"Good flits," he murmured to his chattering pair, holding them close to his chest as they nuzzled his face and neck. "Good job. Go home to Pioth, tell him I'm coming." Cress and Quickfire vanished with syncopated little pops of between-coldness, and S'dekai levered himself to his feet, using the bars of the cage for balance.

Not everyone was so lucky as he. He offered an arm and a warm, encouraging smile to an ailing Trine prisoner who seemed barely able to stand. Supporting her on the side with his good leg, he carefully began making his way towards the dragons. How strange, to be placing himself in the mercy of Trine's claws - he couldn't even guarantee that they would tolerate a man who was still wearing his Malvren knots without attacking on sight. Better if he came while aiding one of their own. "Come on. The two of us can make it together, right?"

F'tiz - remaining for now

His mind hadn't been working all that fast but he knew a warning from Cinder when the black send him one. F'tiz covered his eyes with his arm and flinched away just as the explosives went off. All in a moment his heart was racing fit to burst. He didn't know what would happen next but there was no point staying in his cell. Heaving himself to his feet F'tiz stumbled to the door, coughing and choking on the smoke lingering around it. He kicked it once, twice, thrice and then it clattered to the ground.

Stepping out with his fists raised as best he could with limbs of lead he was just in time to see first a small black and then a small blue appear and land. Dragons. Betweening. Indoors. Were they mad? They could easily have been killed!... But they had not been killed, they were here to save them!

Not everyone was out of their cells yet though, some of them could be hurt and would be easy prey for the wherholders. So many young people... no, he couldn't leave them. Far older than any of the others it was only right that he do what he could to see the others safe first, it was his duty as a rider to see that younger riders lived on to defend their home. His priority, though some might despise him for it, was wingleader D'lin.

"Go!" he waved his hands to the pair of dragons. "I'm not coming yet, take them and go!" Not waiting to see whether or not he had been obeyed F'itz ran to D'lin's door and struggled to heave it off its hinges as he had been able to with his own.

She was alive! He'd know she was because of Kibeth but seeing her in the flesh was a different thing entir-

She was stripped down to her underwear, they all were, and she was injured. Crudely bound wounds. Her hair was cut raggedly short. She was thinner than he remembered. He grabbed her with his free arm and pulled her close, dark eyes darting around for any sign of a threat.

"Get up, quickly!" he said abruptly, squeezing her shoulder than shoving her at Malcarreth. "Get up, get strapped in furthest back okay? I'm taking you home." And never letting her out of his sight again if he could possibly avoid it. They'd hurt her. Hurt her, and- what was that board up on the wall with their names, and-

"Hey! Hey Pioth's!" C'tis whistled sharply to the bronze rider as he noticed him helping Siata along. "Get her over here and get your arse over here too, haven't got time to fanny around!" Shards and now there were guards (conscious guards) and the old rider had decided to stay behind. Well there wasn't much he could do about that; with three passengers plus himself Malcarreth would be fully laden, he couldn't take the man even if he wanted to come.

V'lay - staying put for now
HP: 35 - 10 = 25
Atk: 1d6+2
Def: 1d4+2
Accuracy: -3

The first firelizard, the first flash of color in the arena, had caught V'lay's attention. He had watched them come and go, counted the explosives on each door. One, two on his, one on another, another on his, two more on another door, three on his now - counted dully until he had five. He and one other door, across from him. But no other doors seemed to have that many. That was the only warning he got when the flits returned with fire - warning enough that he should get as far back as he could - and it still wasn't far enough. The blast essentially destroyed the masonry around the door, sending shards across his face. He could feel himself bleeding, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he threw himself immediately at what remained, knocking the door solidly off its hinges, shoving himself out into the open. He needed to go.

There were dragons, he realized dully, and his heart leaped, but when he reached out instinctively, he found the now-familiar ache of distance. No, neither of these were Vinath. V'lay panicked for a moment, reaching desperately into his mind, clutching at his connection to his dragon and finding Vinath roaring back.

Where are you?

Waiting! There's not enough room for me. Two left before I could, but I will come, V'lay! When Malcarreth and Coryxoth are gone I will come and if there are any whers there I will kill them. Snarls, panic, the sound of his dragon in his head reassuring him for once. V'lay relaxed, just slightly, allowed himself the slightest feeling of relief. Things would be over soon, he thought. He put his shoulder to what was left of the cell door, shoving with all his might until it gave. The crunch of masonry, and the sounds...well, he couldn't hear them so much as he could feel them, but he didn't mind at this point. He felt almost inhuman, lightheaded, as if his body weighed nothing as he stepped out into the hall. The approaching wherholders were met with an expression of near-confusion...of course they would be here. He grit his teeth, then, casting about for a weapon.

No dice. But two girls and a green wher...he could outrun them, maybe. There were people approaching the dragons now, too many people - and he didn't want to touch any dragon other than Vinath ever again.

Along with the runners, moving toward the blue and the black - Coryxoth and Malcarreth, Vinath had said - he saw another head, a familiar face. F'itz. Old Bendenite like himself. How had they managed to catch two of them like this? It wasn't right, he thought dully, only half-aware of the words in his mind. But it didn't matter. He was waving off other dragons, and without thinking, V'lay moved toward him. "What're you doing?" he snapped, louder than he intended to, still unsure of the volume of his voice in the ringing in his ears. "We need to get out of here, F'itz!"

(507)

S’dekai

Two dragons, both small. One a blue, the other one a black – both Trine dragons, S’dekai hazarded a guess, and from the joyful way that the small blond woman had raced to the black, he would be willing to bet that they were bonded. He didn’t recognize the blue, but it didn’t matter. He would bring his wounded new friend (and yes, S’dekai was perfectly willing to consider her such a thing despite having exchanged less than a dozen words, it was amazing how a shared ordeal made you so willing to make friends) to safety and then they would just have to see from there…

Hey, Pioth’s!

The bluerider was calling to him. Not by name. But by his dragon’s name. That was enough to turn S’dekai’s head. The voice he remembered from his ill-fated encounter with Natai, and in his memory that voice was associated with a furious tirade against Malvren. But how did a Trine rider who hated the wherholders know Pioth’s name – oh, of course. Pioth was at one of Trine’s Holds. The wounded bronze had stayed there, without anywhere else to go. And that was probably the kind of news that traveled quickly; a defecting bronze in Trine’s territory.

Well, this was probably going to be a horrible trap, given S’dekai’s usual luck. But staying was an even less attractive option, with two guards and a wher now in the room. He lifted his free arm in acknowledgement of C’tis, his other arm still supporting Siata steadily, and forced his damaged leg to pick up the pace a little. “Looks like we’re both going to get out of here – just a little further!”

Rochelle

She clung to him for a short moment, face pressed tight against the bluerider. Some part of her recognized that he held on to her as well, though the knowledge was lost in her attempts to keep from breaking own into tears right then and there. Small fingers tightened in his shirt, unwilling to be pulled away until that slight squeeze and him pushing her. Rochelle tried to grab onto him again but missed. She wanted a shield, she wanted shaffing C'tis and instead -

"Hey, Malcarreth," Rochelle whispered, her voice hoarse. C'tis freaking out or not she took a moment to pat at the dragons spotted hide, wincing as she did so. But that was it, her greeting, and gingerly the young woman started up the blue dragon and towards the back. In underwear and in pain, it wasn't exactly the quickest move.

Kibeth stirred, hissing quietly from her wallow. She reached out to Malcarreth, being crimson and too large to come to her riders aid, and spoke to him in low, angry tones. If you drop her, I will eat your stomach before I blink between.

-----

Siata

"Oh," The wherhandler mumbled as soon as S'dekai's arm wrapped around her, blessedly cool and comforting against her torso. She leaned into the young bronzerider, unaware of her own weigh and any injuries he may have had himself. "I owe you dinner or something." That's what you did when someone saved your life: took them out, bought them food and drink, then beat in the face of anyone tat tried to hurt them later. It meant some form of kinship.

C'tis' bark caught her attention. Siata knew that pissed off whershit's voice anywhere. She huffed in painful amusement, head lifting with s'dekai's. "Of course he's one of the ones here. Li'l girlfriend got caught... Nngh, right, right, yes, we're gettin' out. Then dinner. And no punching ever again. 'Cept C'tis, he likes you if you punch 'im."

She did her best to move quicker as well, one heavy, too warm arm wrapped around S'dekai's shoulders. Then, Siata blinked. "... did he say fanny."

Xanha - boarding Coryxoth

She looked at the blackrider - yes, this was the woman - and gave her a faltering smile. Xanha had never been on a dragon before. She had no idea how this would feel, what it would be like. Her ears were still ringing from the explosion, and she was reeling - she could feel parts of her body in strange, floaty ways, and pain was only just beginning to return to her extremities. She gave Etasha a short nod, clasping S'lin's proffered hand and climbing clumsily onto the black's shoulders and clutching at whatever she found. "Home?" she asked very softly, just to make sure. "We're going home?"