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 Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:27 am
T -10 turns. Sharath's Death."No more!" Kleos slammed her fist down on the table and lent across it, meeting the eyes of each and every one of her riders. "We can endure no more, can no longer suffer the existence of that monster and his cause. For too long we have merely nipped at his heels, for too long we have lived in fear of what the next day could bring. We have forgotten what it is to feel safe in our own homes and now Sharath is dead - murdered - and how long before he strikes down the rest of our Queens and our breeding crimsons too? We can hide no longer, cowering as we wait for him to slit our throats and poison our bread- No! We must take the fight to him and make answer for his crimes; we shall have Keller's head!"
Somewhat out of breath after her rant Kleos inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and turned away from her wing to look out of the large open windows of Dauntless' headquarters with her hands composed neatly behind her back. It was a fine day, the rain had passed over early in the morning and now Trine was bustling with activity. It always seemed wrong to her, the way the world just went on about its business after a death and yet what else could it do? What else could any of them do?
"There is no time for us to mourn," she continued softly. "No time to weep, to cry out at the unfairness of it all. For us there is time only to take the grief in our hearts and forge it into blades of white hot rage that will cut and burn the tunnelsnake from his foul burrow." Kleos turned back to her comrades then, her eyes hard and her jaw set into a grim line. "Prepare yourselves my friends. Ready your weapons, test your harnesses, and gather your courage. Whatever the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman have to say on the matter, Dauntless Wing is going to war."
Outside a crimson dragon threw back her head and roared, and her mighty voice was soon joined by others as they took up the cry;
(370)
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:30 am
T -8 Turns. Before the fall of Benden Wherhold."Here." Kleos stuck a pin into the map and met the eyes of her fellow wingleaders with a challenging gaze. "Dautless shall land at the east of the bowl and strike in through the depths where they keep their battle pits and their storage caverns. Should our offensive fail we shall cripple them nonetheless by spoiling their supplies." Pushing so deep into the enemy's territory.... Kleos swallowed but kept her gaze level as the fear knotted in her belly. Dauntless would not return from this unless they were victorious. Either Benden was recovered by the Resistance, or she led her comrades to death. Could she live with that?... Ha! Well it hardly mattered, for she would die with them. More horribly than they, perhaps, but with them all the same and with no time to regret where she had led them.
Moriath said to the dragons of the assembled leaders.
Kleos exhaled slowly, allowing time for her dragon's words to be digested. After a few moments she turned to a fellow wingleder - male bronzrider like near all of Trine's wingleaders of course but one she thought of better than most - and pointed to the map again down by the common entrance to the lower caverns. "My friend, you wished to strike here? If you were to run a little interference and help secure the bowl at first while we push up the tunnel from the depths we could meet here and with our combined forces we could-"
(345)
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:31 am
T -8 Turns. Victory at Benden.Kleos sat on the stone floor with her back leaning against the wall, her eyes closed and her breathing coming short and sharp as the healer tended to her wounds. Around her there was a hubbub, near chaos as healers and their assistants, and anyone who had the slightest knowledge of the craft hastened about the treatment of the more seriously wounded who occupied the infirmary's beds.
Kleos winced at a sharper stab of pain but remained still; her injuries were painful she knew none were too serious in the great scheme of things, she was cut and battered but none of the wounds went deeper than muscle and she had no head injuries. She was grateful for that, but she was not glad. She could barely find gladness in their victory, there was only an echo of it like the echoes of cheers that came from outside the infirmary. The glad voices bounced off the cold stone and off her heavy heart.
Nine dead. She had lost four riders in the desperate push up through the supply tunnels, four dragons along with them, and one dragon had fallen in the fierce battle that had raged in the sky so there would be a tenth death soon she suspected. Xan wouldn't want to be apart from Opeth.
Nine of her comrades gone, going on for ten, and there was more fighting yet to come; Keller yet lived, and Malvren would now be packed with those Revolutionaries who had fled their defeat here. What was there to celebrate in that?
Moriath suggested, coiling her mind around Kleos'; it was hot with fierce pride, with exhilaration, with rage at their losses, and it was sharp and raw with their shared grief.
Kleos sighed and opened her eyes to look up at the smooth stone of the infirmary's ceiling.
Moriath was outside, perched on one of the high ledges as she licked her wounds; they hurt, that dragons she had cared for were gone hurt, but she would heal. Her rider might not see it right now but she would in time, when Keller was dead and there was time to breathe again.
Kleos said nothing in response; she closed her eyes again, lent forward and lifted her arms as instructed to allow the healer to bind her wounds.
The crimson dragon gave a soft sigh and grey swirled through her orange and green eyes as she reached out to send a wave of comfort to her beloved bondmate; indeed, her rider did not see it right now. Her rider did not see much right now in her haze of grief and pain come to that, and yet there was much to do. It would be done. Moriath finished licking a cut on her shoulder, clambered heavily to her feet and stepped off the ledge. she said as she spiralled down towards the bowl.
At that Kleos almost smiled, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
(58 cool
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:32 am
T -7 Turns. The Last Battle.Moriath bellowed, twisted in the air and struck out at the belly of her silver adversary. He responded with a jet of flame that seared across her flank, but this gave an opening to two of her blacks; they appeared almost wingtip to wingtip, dived, and burned through the silver's wings. Moriath jumped between and reappeared a little higher up, allowing herself only a moment of satisfaction in how he plummeted screaming towards the ocean before turning her mind back to the battle.
Kleos and many of the riders of Dauntless were down in the bowels of the Weyr, locked in combat with Keller himself and his most trusted generals. One of them was a rider, a rider of a distinctive blue dragon if their intelligence reports were correct. she called to the dragons of Daunltless currently following her; approximately a third of the wing with a good cross section of sizes. she showed them an image of the blue, slightly fuzzy for being about third hand by now.
--------------------
Kleos surged to her feet with a cry of grief and pain as she felt her bond with Ice snap. One of her twin blades slashed across the shoulder of the mighty golden wher, and as the beast reared up to strike back at her Kleos dived forward under its awful belly, tucking into a roll and coming up out of reach. Her breath came fast and ragged, she knew she was wounded but she could not tell how badly. Bodies littered the hall, ally and enemy alike and she could not spare the time to tell one from the other. A man cried out, the scream of a rider losing their dragon, and the flare of vindication she felt from Moriath told her that he was an enemy before she even turned to see him and to finish the job by driving a knife up under his ribs.
There was no time to stop and watch him fall; she sprang sideways in anticipation of another blow from Kellask - wise, the creature was right behind her and Kleos found herself giving ground rapidly.
A jumble of thoughts from Moriath bade her draw the wher left - no the other left! - and she did so without question. Moments later four arrows slammed into the beast as four Daunltess archers who had been concealed in alcoves in the rock took their chance. Kellask however was undeterred and Kleos found herself wondering if it was even possible to slay the monster. Would they all die here? They could not, she would not, not now they were so close!
Woman and dragon roared and charged once more, one in the Weyr's depths and one high above in its skies. They could not fall, they had a job to see though.
(512)
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:34 am
T -6 Turns. Drifting."A good Fall my friends." Kleos was addressing the rough semi-circle of riders outside; she offered them a smile, tired but genuine enough. "Not a single injury among we riders and only the lightest of scores on our dragons. I must offer congratulations in particular to our newest recruits," she inclined her head to the recently graduated Weyrlings, "I can see how much you have learned since your first Fall, you all performed admirably."
Moriath suggested, though as with all of her suggestions it was more like a statement of fact than anything else.
Kleos thought about this. Honestly the idea just made her feel tired, it was hard to summon the energy to do anything outside of the bounds of her duties.
Moriath insisted. She didn't know how to lift the grey cloud that hung over her rider but she did her best to make sure that her beloved at least remained engaged with the world. she added.
"I feel that a celebratory drink is in order," Kleos said, because perhaps Moriath was right and socialising a little would help. "I will be by the south shore of the eastern lake at sundown, and I would be glad if any of you who are not otherwise engaged would join me. You're all welcome to bring guests of course, if they will bring their own drink! I will provide for us to thank you all for your grand performance today."
There was a little more to go over then, details of when they would next drill and patrol but it was only a few minutes later that Kleos was making her way back to her weyr. Once inside her upright posture sagged a little and she sat down on the chair before her desk with a heavy sigh. Everything was... difficult. It was hard to explain even to herself. A simple task before her; remove her flight gear, yet the very idea exhausted her and she remained sitting staring at her feet for some minutes before she could summon the energy to start loosening the laces on her boots.
Moriath informed her, and again it was a certainty coming from the utterly self-assured crimson dragon.
Kleos raised a hand to brush her fingers over the twisted flesh. It was true, the scars were no longer as livid as they had once been. She couldn't imagine ever feeling different to how she did at the moment, yet it was true and Moriath believed in her and that almost made her able to believe herself.
Kleos finished taking off her flight gear and got back to her feet; if she was to meet with her comrades later then she really needed to take a bath.
(523)
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:35 am
T -4 Turns. A Thousand Words. Moriath observed as she looked through her rider's eyes at the canvas.
Kleos chuckled softly and shook her head a little as she applied another layer of colour to the large draconic shape that was slowly becoming a bronze thanks to different highlights on its hide. Painting had given her something that she had desperately sought in the immediate aftermath of the war; peace, and a real sense of accomplishment when she finished a piece she was pleased with. She was proud of her wing of course but Dauntless' achievements belonged to all of its riders, whereas her art was hers alone.
It had taken her a long time to be happy with showing anyone but her nearest and dearest her work of course, it had been quite terrible to begin with, but now she felt confident enough to display her latest work not only to the Weyr but to the world. It was no masterpiece but it said what needed to be said.
It was a huge canvas with quite a complex scene; months in the making, what it ultimately displayed was the future. Pern was shifting once more, leaning towards change, the kind of change that Keller's revolution could have brought had he fought with words rather than treachery and bloodshed. Keller then could never have brought it into being, his dark and jealous heart had stained the cause he led but they had learned from that. For all the evil he had wrought however they had learned, and for all the pain he caused he had shown Pern that there could be another way.
The bronze dragon Kleos was currently working on was off to one side of the painting. He stood before a class of weyrlings, one forefoot extended tenderly towards them; here stood not a military leader, but a teacher. On the opposites side there was a dragon as yet unpainted who was to be a gold; the lithe figure of her dark-skinned rider was already painted in as were the white robed candidates she stood before. In the centre of the scene was a table covered in charts; four riders lent over it, one wore a Weyrleader's knots wound in with green, the next a Wingleader's knots with blue, the next a Wingleader's knots with black, and the last bore a Wingleader's knots with what could be either brown or bronze. All four figures were androgynous by design, though of course if you interpreted the last figure's knots as bronze it had to be a man. In the sky there were several formations of dragons of every hue twirling acrobatically, some of them flaming brightly. The backdrop of the whole composition showed verdant fields with the vague shape of a Hold right on the horizon.
"Each according to his ability?" Kleos murmured to herself as she washed off her brush and selected another paler tone to work on one of the bronzes in the sky. It sounded quite good but she wanted to consider other possibilities too, when she unveiled this at the next meeting of All the Weyrs she wanted it to be perfect. The winds were blowing in their favour, and many great speeches had been made, but she hoped that a good painting with the right name could be worth a thousand words. Change was coming to Pern, and she fully intended to do her part to see it done right this time.
(616)
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Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2015 7:37 am
T -2 Turns. Rogue Hunters."My friends, my comrades, I have asked you to meet me here today for a special announcement.
Since the discovery that atypical dragons are able to resist the Command abilities of gold dragons plans have been made to train wings with a high proportion of atypes dedicated to combating the Rogue Queen threat. Dauntless has always contained many atypes, and so I have volunteered our wing to be one of the first to take up these vital duties. I have brought all of you here today to ask you to remain by my side in this new fight, but also to give you the chance to step aside if you wish. Most of you fought in the wherwars, you have given much to your world and I would not wish to force any of you to step again into more danger than we already face against the Thread. It is a hard path I have chosen for Dauntless wing but it is a necessary one, we must defend our home - our world - from those who would force it to bend knee to them for their golden hides alone. If we do not stand, who will? If we do not step forward with shields raised and blades ready who will hold back this new tide of wicked selfishness?
I ask that all of you consider what you wish to do over the next sevenday, I do not want anyone to make a decision in the heat of the moment that they later regret. At this hour next sevenday those who still wish to fly and fight by my side are to come again to this place to receive new knots, and harness decorations for your bondmates as tokens of my esteem.
Go now my friends with my thanks for all you have done in the past, and my best wishes for whatever you may choose in the future."
(331)
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