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 Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2015 2:12 am
Rider
Name: Kleos
Age: 37
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Rank: Wingleader of Dauntless Wing
History:
Pre game. A journeyman farmcrafter fell in love with a journeywoman beastcrafter, they married both aged twenty two, and the jourenywoman left her craft to make a home for them and their future children. They had a daughter the next turn, a son two turns after that, and another daughter another turn later. Shortly after the birth of the second daughter, the first took a winter fever and passed away. Having lost one child the couple invested all the more love in their remaining son and daughter, had all the more dreams for them. The son would become a master craftsman - beast or farm for preference though harper fitted their daydreams as well - and their daughter would grow up into a kind, brave, and dutiful woman who would marry well and have many beautiful children. The son grew up pretty well as planned, and left to pursue his craft at the age of thirteen. The daughter... well she was certainly pretty, and diligent about completing the chores she was given but she wrinkled her nose at the mention of marrying and having children; why would she want to do that?
When she hit puberty her parents were sure it would all sort itself out; she was turning into the perfect beauty, and surely her maternal instincts would kick in soon. As it turned out, they didn’t. As the girl - Kleos - began to realise she preferred girls to boys she began to withdraw from her parents, and even to resent them for pressuring her into a life she had no interest in. She asked to be sent off to a crafthall, but they refused to release her. She grew angrier after that, and called her parents bitter names like jailor and heartless Thread-spawn. When she was caught kissing the neighbour’s daughter aged sixteen things really came to a head; her parents held very traditional views on sexuality and were horrified that their little girl was turning out this way. They loved her as much as they ever had but were afraid she would ruin herself if they didn’t make her leave her immoral ways behind; they had to do something quickly. She was not allowed to leave the house without permission from then on, and informed that a husband was being found for her. In an act of rebellion, she took a sharp blade from the kitchen and hacked off the fine blonde hair that her parents had encouraged her to grow out ever since she could remember; she would be nobody’s trophy wife.
Her attitude didn’t exactly make it easy to find a match for her; she was a harsh to the suitors her parents brought to meet her as she was with them, demanding of them how they would sleep at night knowing they had denied another person their freedom. Half way through her sixteenth turn things were going from bad to worse and her parents were beginning to despair. Their salvation came in the form of a Searchrider from Malvren Weyr. Kleos along with a young lad were identified as suitable candidates, and asked to say their goodbyes. The last place Kleos’ parents wanted her to go was a Weyr; everyone knew what immoral practices they condoned... But then their daughter turned to them and fell to her knees, pleading for her release. At a Weyr she would be too far away to be a disgrace to them, and at a Weyr she could be happy, something she could hardly remember being since she realised she could never fall in love with a man. Though they were frustrated with her, angry with her for her obtuseness and defiance, her parents loved her still and could not bear to see her so unhappy. Reluctantly, they gave their permission for her to depart and within a candlemark she was on the back of dragon, looking down at Malvren Weyr.
In game history Around half a turn after her arrival at Malvren Kleos attended her first hatching where she was overjoyed to be chosen by crimson Moriath. The little red dragon had an ego the size of both moons combined with fiery passion and a will of steel to match. Weyrlinghood went as smoothly for the pair as it can for any atypical dragon and much to Kleos' relief Moriath opted to flame not to clutch, she had fled her hold to escape one maternal role and had no desire to end up in another! It was probably a good decision over all in the end as Moriath has never once risen.
With clutches suffering and the mystweed solution devised Kleos and Moriath were among those who volunteered to ride through time to seek the herb out. Unfortunately for them they appeared in the middle of a Threadfall, becoming among the first people of their time to encounter and battle the silver menace. Also unfortunately said encounter couldn't be said to have gone off without a hitch; young woman and young dragon were both badly scored. Injuries aside however the mission was a success; Kleos and her comrades returned to their own time with samples of the plant and both felt the scars well worth it.
Though it seemed from a mighty clutch in Benden that mystweed had the required effect peace and calm did not last long as several leaders of the Weyrs of Pern were assassinated by an unknown assailant. Kleos attempted to assist in the investigations but to little avail but information from elsewhere pointed to a Holdless man named Flynn and Kleos was among those searching his supposed camp when the First Fall of the new Pass caught them all unawares. When it was cleared from the skies the riders looked around themselves to see terrible devastation, many riders had fallen with wingleaders and seconds among them. As soon as wounds were treated the Weyrs sprung into action, seeking to replace their lost leaders, and Kleos was among those who campaigned in Malvren for the post of Wingleader. Somewhat to her surprise - though not to Moriath's - her campaign was successful. She named her newly formed wing Dauntless and tried not to panic about the fact that she had no idea what she was doing. Luckily Moriath had enough confidence for both of them.
The next earth shaking event that changed the course of the pair's life was the revolution. It came without warning, strangers and familiar faces alike with knives and murderous intent. Hardly able to comprehend what was happening Kleos fought back with her belt knife and, along with a ragged band of survivors, managed to fight her way to Malvren's infirmary which they defended viciously as they tried to drive the revolutionaries back. It was not to be however, there were many whers among the foe's forces and in Malvren's tunnels that made the outcome inevitable. After around two sevendays of desperate fighting the cause was declared lost and Kleos fled with her companions to Trine Weyr.
Overcrowding. Intrigue. Wrestling large tunnel snakes. Unspeakable acts by both sides. Kleos kept her honour as far as she is concerned by entering Benden's depths to destroy a clutch of wher eggs that appeared to be special to the revolution, though she harbored guilt of the fact that she was the only one of her team to escape for many turns. The fact that they were later rescued did little to ease her conscience as she was unable to be part of it. All of that plus a failed attempt on her life (though she was not the original target of the attack) had Kleos rather harried. She briefly entertained the idea of taking on one of the 'districts' of Trine but in the end drilling her wing, combating Kellers' forces, and seeking further training for herself in the art of combat kept her too busy to make a serious attempt at it.
The last ten turns After Sharath's death Kleos' joined the clamour and the quest for Keller's head. She prepared her wing for war before any official word on the matter was given and would have led Dauntless wing on raids on his strongholds regardless of the outcome. As the wherwars began in earnest and she began to lose her people to the blades of Keller's forces, and the talons of their terrible whers, Kleos grew more hardened; she smiled seldom and thought of little outside of battling the Thread and the righteous cause she had sworn to see through. The price was high, and she would carry guilt for the deaths of those lost under her command for many turns, but it had to be done. Kleos fought at the battle that won back Benden but could not find it in herself to celebrate in the aftermath, not when they were more battles yet to fight. Moriath, who had always been the harsher and haughtier of the pair, became the more approachable one in these days; while Kleos became grim and practical the crimson shared her charismatic confidence in their ultimate victory with her wing, her friends, and allies in general.
A short while before the final attack on Malvren Wherhold Kleos commissioned a pair of long knives from her friend the smith Siata. She named the blades Duty and Courage and prepared for the battle. In the final clash in the depths of her old home she was among those who engaged with Keller and Kellask. Near the end of the battle she found herself face to face with the gold wher and would probably have been killed if not for the intervention of her blue flitt Ice, who distracted Kellask from tearing out her throat but paid with his life. Green Moss - always loosely bonded - went feral at the shock of his death even as Kleos rose to her feet to rejoin the fight.
In the aftermath of the war Kleos found herself at a loss. She fought the Thread at the head of her wing but what else was there? She struggled to cope with peace or more to the point the the memories of war, of those she had loss. Over the turns she began to heal again, to take pleasure in every day things again; she discovered an interest in art and music and took up painting in her spare time. She still lacked a cause however and though she had friends and hobbies felt less for the lack of it, fighting a mindless enemy wasn't really the same. So it was that as discussion around the power of metallics grew Kleos latched onto it with fervour. She had always been a believer in justice, forever on the side of those she believed to be oppressed and so she was more than glad to take the good seed at the core of what she saw as Keller's evil regime and to nurture that seed by debating loudly about it.
Naturally her stance put her in conflict with some of her fellow wingleaders of Trine - male metallic riders to a man - but Kleos had never been one to even consider backing down from a fight she believed in. In the fight against Keller, she reasoned, she had seen as much courage and strategic thinking from the small pairs under her command as she had the metallics if not more! How foolish to place leadership in the hands of the less than five or so percent of riders who happen to Impress a metallic dragon, and what of metallic riders who are not suited to military command? Why should they be pushed into a life they are unsuited for and do not want? Why should riders not be free to choose their paths as she and Moriath were? Let merit prove itself in all paths, let the green lead, and the bronze search, and let the gold take up a craft or teach or serve the Weyr in some other way; each individual pair as they will it.
And so it came to be. The old regime of Queens and their consort bronzes came crashing down and Kleos looked with pride at the new dawn ahead of them.
When it was discovered that atypical dragons - especially the larger ones - who held strong willpower could resist the Command power of golds Kleos and Moriath immediately volunteered their wing to combat the Queens who had defied the changes the world desired, and thus they became among the first Rogue Hunters. The new cause enlivened Kleos, seeming to lift turns from her shoulders and to fill her once again with the fire she had been known for during the clashes with Keller's forces. With newfound purpose, and feeling rather better about herself again, Kleos started to enjoy her hobbies more and thus put more passion into them in her sparse free time. She also remembered that it would be rather nice to fall in love, she might be approaching forty but surely it wasn't too late! Whether or not she will stop being married to her job enough to actually find a lady-love is of course highly debatable.
In the present day Dauntless Wing welcomes all pairs with brave hearts but especially seeks out atypical pairs who will best be able to join their fight against the scattered few who still cling to the idea that they deserve power simply for being born golden.
Description: In her youth Kleos was something of a classic beauty, all softness and generous curves and fine features.
That however was twenty-one turns ago; twenty-one turns of riding's everyday rigours, of fighting battles against the Thread, of fighting Keller's forces, and later of combating the rogue Queens.
Today, a veteran of countless clashes, Kleos is what you might call a striking woman. With youthful softness gone from her face her high well-sculpted cheekbones could probably be used as deadly weapons, as could the sharp line of her jaw. Her lips are still quite full and soft looking but it's a little hard to notice that as one's attention is usually drawn by the twisted Threadscore that covers the right side of her face and neck. The scars are not so livid now as they once were but they are still somewhat raised and stand out starkly pale against her slightly tanned and much weathered skin. These scars extend all the way down her right side to her hip and there are others scattered about her body too, reminders of the blades of the revolutionaries.
Her light green eyes have changed little over the turns save for the lines around them, and save that perhaps there is often a weariness about them these days. Also mostly unchanged is her hair; still cut to a couple of inches long and still straight fine platinum blonde for the most part though there are a few pale silver flecks among it these days too. She dresses more or less as she ever has as well - usually in uniform but practically and neatly when not - but she doesn't make quite such an effort to flatten her chest these days so her wide-hipped 5'9" frame looks less unbalanced than it did in her youth. Though she was never built for great strength many turns of hard work have toughened Kleos into a wiry-muscled woman who can work, heft firestone sacks, and fight all day should her duty demand it.
Personality: Kleos is a fighter through and through; she has a strong moral compass and sticks by her beliefs come what may. So far as intelligence goes she’s more or less average, but she possesses a good deal more common sense than most, and is good at seeing patterns, and finding solutions to physical problems. She can be relied on to keep her word and do her duty, but she is outspoken and doesn’t hesitate to question authority if she feels they’re in the wrong. Similarly, she will point blank refuse to do something she feels is unjust no matter how much trouble she might get into for not following orders. Speaking of orders, she’s not too fond of them; she’d much rather be the one giving them out than receiving them, at least in part because she doesn’t feel many leaders live up to her personal code of honour and morality. As can be deduced from this attitude, Kleos is proud and while she has never been vain in the classical sense she is very satisfied with her personality, were it physical she would certainly admire it in a mirror. She’s courageous, determined, and noble after all; what’s not to like about her? Perhaps her harshness for starters; justice is not always kindness, she calls people out on the slightest wrong and makes sure the whole world hears about it.
Another problem would be that massive pride; she’s sure that nobody else is quite as good and noble as she is, and while she never says so aloud it is quite clear in her manner that she thinks she’s one of the most shining examples of humanity alive. Egotistical though her attitude might be, nobody could deny that she truly is a decent person; not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but basically good-hearted. She’s in the corner of anyone who she believes is being oppressed, unfairly ignored, or otherwise mistreated; her own wellbeing, and her good sense, take a back seat. She’d rather die than abandon a cause or a comrade in need and is impossible to bribe or blackmail; her honour (and ego) wouldn’t allow it. Her high standards and the passion with which she strives to live up to them make her a pretty forceful person to deal with, and while some might like and admire her drive and passion, just as many will probably find it a bit much to deal with every day and avoid close association with her. Seriously? Who goes on like that all the time? Who does she think she is, the savior of the world? With Kleos’s pride, she just might.
Kleos is quite a high stress person; not only are her standards of morality high, all her standards are and she devotes a huge amount of her time an energy to trying to live up to them. Though she has hugely grown in confidence over the turns and developed (slightly) more realistic standards she still fears falling short of what she wants to achieve and works very hard indeed to avoid this fate. Because of her high standards and thus attention to detail she can be a complete micro-manager and she struggles to delegate tasks to her subordinates in case they don't carry them out quite the way she envisages them.
Kleos takes very poorly to insults or being told she’s wrong, and accepts correction only very grudgingly, and only when there is a lot of evidence weighing against her point of view. If the offender is a pretty girl however, she’ll probably let the matter slide. Yes, Kleos really loves the ladies, the pretty ladies that is. She has a bad habit of coddling them given half a chance, which often either leads to them getting annoyed with her for trying to help them with their work too much, or to them taking advantage of her and sitting back while she gets on with it. Similarly, while she’ll happily defend anyone at all if she thinks they’re being treated unfairly, she is especially defensive of beautiful ladies. Even more than pretty girls however she is protective of her friends and would do anything they asked of her, provided it doesn’t violate her morals in any case. If one of her friends does something she believes is wrong she will firstly be very angry with them and then she will demand that they own up, take their punishment, and generally make amends before she will call them friend again.
Other: Character tracks - Man of La Mancha (Linda Eder), Citizen Soliders (3 Doors Down), Holding out for a Hero (Emerald Sun)
Dragon
Name: Moriath
Age: 21
Colour: Crimson
Description: Moriath is something of a giant of a crimson, just about equalling the size of an average brown. She's grown into a brown's build too; she's a muscular dragon with excellent endurance. While she manages to keep her movements collected and graceful, however, she is far from the fastest or most agile dragon in the sky but she doesn't mind that, after all fantastic aerial stunts are the territory of greens!
Without fail, every inch of her red hide is scrubbed, oiled and generally pampered to perfection but even the most diligent oiling doesn't hide the scars that adorn her hide; a large patch if ancient Threadscore covers her left haunch, and smaller patches of varying ages are scattered here and there too. Scars that clearly come from battles with whers and other dragons stand out most prominently on her chest, neck, and forelegs; it is apparently that she met her foes head on. The multitude of marks don't seem to bother her at all however, in she wears them with pride and if asked would be happy to tell you that each and every one is a badge of honour.
Personality: The hierarchy of the Weyr is very clear in Moriath's mind; it goes Moriath, other crimsons, typically coloured female dragons, atypical male dragons, and then typical male dragons right at the bottom. Whites, well, they either fit in with crimsons or with other atypicals, depending on whether they identify as male or as female. She's fairly sure that between the three colours of female dragon they could run the Weyr and fight the Thread without any problems at all; with agile greens and powerful crimsons with a queen wing below who needs anything more? She'll admit that they need a few bronzes or perhaps browns for breeding, but that's just about all. She isn't afraid to let others know her opinions either, she will almost always address or refer to males with either contempt or condescending tolerance depending on the situation: it takes an awful lot to make a male impress her, let alone to make her admit it. Male humans are treated more or less the same as typically coloured male dragons, and she would only directly address one under the most dire of circumstances. When a female dragon chooses a male rider, they go down a little in her estimation, and she will often be heard asking them what in the name of the first egg they were thinking when they chose a male over a female.
This said, however, you can guarantee that should a dragon from another Weyr insult a male of hers, she will be one of the first to leap to his defense; he might be a male but he's a Trine male (it took a long time but she does think of Trine as her home now), and that makes him far superior to one from anywhere else in the world. Her prejudices show through again in how she will deal with the situation depending on who has spoken; crimsons from other Weyrs she will deal with firmly but politely, whereas if a typical male insulted somebody from Trine she would do her best to tear them to verbal shreds.
As an arrogant dragon Moriath really does believe that she can solve everybody's problems the best, and not only does she believe she can, she wants to. This comes partially from her belief that if she doesn't fix it it won't get fixed, partially from a desire to show how wonderful she is, and partially from a genuine desire to see the people around her happy. Yes, even the lowly males; they might not be as good as she and her fellow females are, but they're still Trine dragons, and they deserve to be happy. There is no end to the things she'll try to get people to let her help with; from giving relationship advice to flying the last bit of a long patrol for some poor small dragon who can't quite last out comfortably, Moriath has her nose in your issues whether you like it or not. Telling her to butt out doesn't go down desperately well, and again her prejudice affects her reaction; males will usually get snapped at and told they're ungrateful little whers, whereas females will usually just sniffily be told they're making a mistake.
If she does manage to get somebody to accept her help with something, she will not give in until she solves the issue one way or another. Failure is not an option so far as Moriath is concerned, and if she has to work all day every day for a month to fix the problem, or to reach a personal goal, she will do so. It should be noted, however, that while she'll work all day, she won't work through the night. Moriath adores her personal time for rest and relaxation, and come Thread or high water she will find at least a candlemark a day to set aside all of her worries and indulge in a relaxing flight or some time in the sun. After all, amazing dragon that she is, she'll get everything sorted in the end so there's really no point in pushing herself so hard that she gets frazzled; that would probably just make everything take longer in the end anyway.
All of her arrogance and prejudice can make Moriath a rather difficult dragon to get along with; she has a quick wit which many might find pleasing, but equally for many this might not balance out her other traits enough to make friendship worthwhile. She seldom outright states that she thinks she's the best, brightest, most capable dragon around but her manner and tone often make it obvious that she thinks she could have done better at whatever it was you just did. Her drive to be the best and belief that she is the best anyway makes her hold herself to very high standards, but if she seems to be failing she will shrug it off and just keep working, assuming she'll get it right in the end. The standards she holds others to vary depend, as ever, on colour and sex. If a crimson fails at something she will be rather disappointed and saddened for them, but if a brown failed at the same thing she would snort in amusement and shrug her wings: what did you expect from a male? Even other crimsons are not held to the standards she holds herself to, however, and as such when one bests her she is mildly surprised. Any other dragon besting her will surprise her by greater and greater degrees, and if she's outright bested by a typical male she will either fail to accept it, or assume they must have had a female do most of the work for them or something.
Other: Character tracks - You Call me a b***h Like It's a Bad Thing (Halestorm), Citizen Soliders (3 Doors Down), Holding out for a Hero (Emerald Sun)
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Posted: Fri May 29, 2015 10:18 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;
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Posted: Sun May 31, 2015 4:18 pm
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-"
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Posted: Thu Jun 04, 2015 1:17 pm
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.
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Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2015 12:49 pm
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.
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Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2015 1:10 pm
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.
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Posted: Sun Jun 07, 2015 4:22 pm
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.
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 2:45 pm
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."
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2015 5:23 pm
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