Threadfall with Ista Weyr

February 17th 2005
Logged by B'au

Above Paradise Island
You soar above the tropical forests of Paradise Island. Just below, a plateau opens up before the Hold itself, and the grassy meadow is wide enough for many dragons to land. To the north of the plateau is the beach and cove, and beyond it, ocean. You can see the mainland from here, a distant purple outline on the ocean horizon to the north and east. It is an autumn noon.
Gliding around is a brown firelizard.
Bronze Morchainth, green Gwenegyth, and blue Vorkoroth are here.

Niwath suddenly breaks through into the sky above, after-dark ocean form twisting effortlessly through the air as he shakes away the cold of ::between::.

Elbareth blinks in from ::between::!

Nezdarvyth appears in a flash of spinning gears and broken cogs. Drat! The super duper invention of world domination broke!

A blue weyrling bumbles by, dropping tiny chunks of firestone in his wake.

Vorkoroth looks perhaps a little dwarfish, sandwiched into position between bronzes and browns in the middle of a loaned wing of High Reaches dragons. The blue seems to be patently ignoring such ideas, however, relaying orders with the confidence of a winged Napoleon as Wyn directs him after the first few threatening clumps to head their way.

A green and a blue both go for the same patch of thread, and the green quickly dodges as she sees the other dragon.

From Gwenegyth's neck, O'don fidgets with the straps holding the firestone sacks, looking back frequently to make sure all the wing is in place. It's unlikely anyone's going to need a new sack just yet, but he's trying to be alert.

Morchainth looks a shade or two duller than usual, but the state of the slouching rider strapped firmly into place at the base of his neck is difficult to discern behind and beneath leathers and helmet. All creaking leather and stiff, dusky hide, the bronze breaks his stoic air long enough to snort against the pepper of firestone that tumbles down over his snout and neck before sliding to the right to neatly dispose of the first clump to pass within his reach.

Elbareth hovers with thunderstreak in the Istan ranks. The pair are patient, they've done this a hundred times before and only notice the intrusion of the riders from High Reaches as an academic concern, one more group to keep track of. She glanced back towards her own wing, the wingsecond waiting and ready. Once fall begins she signals to Elbareth as they do what they do best. Thunderstreak's compliment of light fast dragons is mop up patrol. They hit the straggling bits the heavier wings miss before it can get down to teh Queen's layer. And today thunderstreak is doing it's job well.

A small brown gets ahead of himself and darts in front of the wing to catch a particularly ugly clump of thread. The lead dragon answers with a bellow of annoyance.

A tumbling ball of Thread descends stealthily, slipping silently past Elbareth in its downward fall.

A tangled mass of Thread plummets out of the sky in front of Vorkoroth.

A spidery web of thread emerges above Morchainth, causing a firestone-carrying weyrling nearby to scurry away.

From Elbareth's neck, Tstar chases the ball of thread, even as Tstar grumbles something uncomplimentarry about the wing above them. They shouldn't have something this size getitng through, but Elbareth dispatches it efficiently and rejoin thunderstreak briefly.

Maiioth flicks calmly in from ::BETWEEN:: in a flash of tranquil celadon.

Woohah! Vorkoroth leaps upon the opportunity to outfly his larger wingmen, darting forward to incinerate the tangled thread in front of him with a sharp huff of flame. Wyn then orders him silently back into formation, a slightly feral and shortlived smile the sole sign that she's appreciated the move.

Apparantly, a X'ner and Nezdarvyth are also on loan from High Reaches. Or maybe the bronzerider just poked and prodded enough to be able to keep an eye on a certain green pair. Either way, they are there, X'ner grinning almost giddily. He enjoys this stuff way too much for his own good, one might say, and Nezdarvyth is really no better, darting after a stray clump that wheels past him, charring it into flecks.

Niwath seems unsure in the skies, only just back in the Wing after a long abscence caused by Thread related injury. Between his neckridges, B'au is just as nervous, shifting awkwardly. The scar on his chest aches a little, and in his thick gloves his hands are trembling. Luckily, nothing seems to be falling in the vicinity of Skyraider Wing - yet.

A seething silver lump attatches itself to a greenrider's arm on the right edge of the threadfall. The rider screams, and the dragon bellows, before both skip between.

A silvery tendril of Thread cascades downwards, tumbling past Niwath with silent grace.

Curling movements pulsing with every contorted twist, a clump of Thread reaches out towards towards Maiioth.

Morchainth leans heavily to his left and down - almost beneath another member of the wing despite the muffled growl from his back that seems to think they should be going in the other direction. Heedless of the disagreement, Morchainth twists his head up and back to dispatch of most - if not all of the tangled mass.

Brown Dneeth remains cautiously in formation while rider M'raid holds himself too tight and uncomfortable in the straps. This riding pair will not be darting out to attack strays. The Thread that comes within range of their section of the High Reaches formation is a different matter. M'raid can't help but hope nothing will come too close, even as a flame from Dneeth nicely destroys one of those reachable bits of Thread. Threadfall is their business and duty, but it always makes him nervous.

Another weyrling soars through the ranks, answering the bellow of a bronzerider near the front for firestone. The little blue nearabout clips Nezdarvyth in his hurry.

From Gwenegyth's neck, O'don waves to one of the weyrlings, indicating for them to go forth and deliver; he himself is making Gwenegyth hold back, despite her steady circling and the sacks slung over her neck.

Niwath breaks ranks with his wing for just a second, darting forward to flame a tendril of Thread that fell too close before falling back into place with ease. It seems to reassure him and he growls softly, almost daring the stuff to fall by /him/ again. "Well done, Nee," murmurs B'au, and even he seems to be getting some of his confidence back.

Small ashes rain down above Vorkoroth, courtesy of a brown dispatching a small lump above the blue's head.

A green, not paying attention, soars in too close for comfort to Morchainth.

Nezdarvyth gives a snappish little rumble at the near-collision from a weyrling, veering himself slightly out of formation. Ooh yes, that one is on his 'list'. Mentally logging that bit of information away, he turns his head for more firestone, which X'ner readily gives him.

Isamath pops out from ::between::, a chill breeze following close behind.

Gwenegyth goes home.

Dyamith blinks in from ::between::!

Morchainth, being the gentleman that he is, rumbles and snaps his jaws at her as he shifts back up into his place within the wing, eventually turning his head to receive fresh firestone and a glare from X'ian that his goggles can do little to damper at this point.

A writhing knot of Thread drops silently off Elbareth's wing.

A small knotlike bundle of Thread blossoms, reaching out like a fisher's cast net, hoping to ensnare Vorkoroth in its hungry grasp.

Vorkoroth whuffs irritably as he's left well-dusted, a few specks of ash still still hot enough to leave him blinking his right eyelid to clear his cornea of it. Wyn takes the advantage of their momentary disability to drop back and let the others in her formation cover them while she tops up the blue's fuel reserves.

Tumbling end over end like a dandelion, a delicate wisp of Thread dances on the wind, bouncing past Niwath as it drifts lazily downward.

An angry, hissing knot of Thread falls into Dyamith's path, writhing in eerie gyrations as it seeks the lush earth below.

Femme has arrived.

A nasty wind catches the edge of thread, causing slight panic among some ranks as thread rains uncontrollably above them.

A large chunk of Thread sinks in deadly silence, just ahead of Maiioth.

Elbareth and thunderstreak have fanned out to the point their formation is almost unrecognizeable, but as the threadfall progresses, that is normal and the wingleader is still in the center with the seconds on the ends so the wing is still mostly in tact, if a slightly unconventional formula for an entire wing of short-strike specialists. Elbareth wheels for the knot, a remnant of a larger one a higher wing broke up. She gets most of it, but some falls further down, for someone else to snag.

A delicate spiderweb of Thread descends above Nezdarvyth.

A knotted tangle of Thread falls near Morchainth, fanning out as if to ensnare him.

A weyrling tries unsuccessfully to toss a chunk of firestone into a brown's mouth. The chunk, decently sized, falls down towards Elbareth.

Maiioth barely needs to tilt her head to keep the Thread falling by her in her sights, and with a surprisingly large burst of flame the organism is destroyed. Two more steady, economical wingbeats bring her back towards her wing, and she arches her muzzle back towards her rider, waiting for firestone.

Morchainth blinks between, having no apparent desire to fend off the entire net-like clump swooping for him, only to reappear behind it to begin the torching process - though his first blast of flame sputters a bit, and he's forced to belch out a second to quash the cluster in its entirety.

Dyamith is quick to react as the thread hisses into his path. Easily dispatched of the rider and dragon waste no time in also flaming a small patch that was missed by a fellow Zephry. The spread out formation of this smaller wing leaves a lot of territory for each dragon to cover, making Dyamith scramble to get back into formation barely getting there in time to torch another thread.

From Isamath's neck, Ashli seems to be, as usual, having a grand old time, armed with her trusty flamethrower - complete, of course, with a multi-colored clump of yarn wrapped around a bit of it. "Wooo! Didja see that one?" she cries brightly as a clump of Thread finally makes its way down towards where Esprit rides, and Isa nimbly backwings to allow Ash to flame it - which she does, with gusto.

Dneeth pulls up slightly in the formation to allow for some necessary cover for Vorkoroth's retreat, flaming after a cautious beat that nearly misses him the Thread. M'raid hunches slightly. They will have to be quicker, or they won't be too effective. But … nervous!

Elbareth twists to one side and hisses a warning at the weyrling. This is not the time to be making mistakes! She turns her attention to the matter at hand, catching a sliver that /almost/ got by her as she dealt with the falling rock and the weyrling. Tstar sat low against Elbareth's neck , serving primarily as an extra pair of eyes for the green. She obeys the signal to form up again almost without thinking and Thunderstreak obeys with a faltering precission as a few minor scores have been garnered in the ranks, but not enough to take anyone out of the running today.

While Morchainth is busy killing that particular net of thread, another descends right above his rider, neatly catching X'ian on his thigh.

A brown backwings to flame a large clump of thread.

Two greens break formation briefly to flame several clumps.

The charred thread drifts down from the sky, covering the land below in black ashes.

Morchainth's resulting roar is mingled with a strangled yell of pain and inappropriateness from the base of his neck as X'ian's knuckles go white around his straps and the pair vanishes abruptly.

A long snaking filament of Thread sinks, almost lifelessly, past Vorkoroth.

B'au seems to catch sight of the Thread before his blue does, and shouts a quick vocal warning to the green that the clump is heading for. As the other dragon skips between, Niwath swoops into a sudden dive, flaming the threadclump before he checked his descent with a quick downbeat of his wings. Narrowly avoiding a collision with the dragon flying behind, he manages to pull into what is vaguely his position in the wing.

Another thread patch slinks quietly in front of Dneeth.

Morchainth vanishes into the cold of ::between::!

Vorkoroth relays thanks to Dneeth, along with some teasing for his reaction times, and is once again back in the fray. He sears three clumps in a row while angling aloft on an updraft, until his mental preening over the hat trick causes him to lose a fourth, which falls down to the level where Ashli and the other weyrwomen wait. Wyn, while an old hand, has been distracted at the critical moment by X'ian's yell. "Vor, have it relayed that Morchainth's rider is injured so that the Healers can be standing by."

Nezdarvyth veers slightly to avoid his wing becoming scored by the thread dropping by him, able to twist enough to send a flame after the falling clump without chasing it entirely. Showing off a bit? Well, it is Nez, after all. Another few wingbeats have him back in formation, X'ner giving an appreciative yell for his lifemate.
From Nezdarvyth's neck, X'ner receives a medium score on the hand!

From Isamath's neck, Ash's attention breaks for a moment as she realizes X'ian's been hit, and dark eyes widen as she searches the skies, lips moving in a soft plea for them to return, let the Thread not have hit too badly…a quick mental query to Isa is batted aside as the gold apparently replies tersely, winging to the side to align herself with the Thread that had skittered by Niwath, Ash automatically maneuvering her flamethrower to catch it after hearing a call from Vaeli to "Pay attention!" Isamath swoops back into formation, breaking for a moment once again to catch the bit that slipped by Wyn…

Tangled into a convoluted knot, a clump of Thread races by Isamath, as if to elude her dragonfire by its speedy descent.

A silvery clump of Thread tumbles like a dandelion past Niwath, twirling downward towards the ground.

A nearby brown is caught in a clump and blinks ::BETWEEN::!

Much to the horror of a brown's rider, his dragon swoops around a clump, barely missing it.

A tangled mass of Thread kites past Elbareth, fluttering as it sails downward.

A delicate spiderweb of Thread looms before Dyamith, waiting to ensnare him.

Twirling around like some spiraling child's toy, a group of Threads spin dizzyingly down past Maiioth.

Dyamith roars angrily as he misses a clump of thread but doesn't watch it as it tumbles down towards the goldriders below. Desba waves a signal at the weyrling wing a little firestone here. As Desba attention returns to the fall she finds that they are ensared by a clump of the thread and the pair goes between.
Dyamith skips ::between::!
Dyamith blinks in from ::between::!

Dneeth has begun a tentative brief explanation of his necessarily slow reaction times, when Thread and a sudden unnerving yell combine to catch his attention and his rider's in two different places in the same time. M'raid shakes his head abruptly and Dneeth makes a quick dive to catch the missed thread in flame. Close. Too slow again.

X'ner registers the pain lancing into his hand a second before Nezdarvyth does, the bronze bellowing out a rather sudden..and most unmanly shriek for his rider even as X'ner himself bites out a string of curses. The entire tirade is cut off however as the bronze vanishes, skipping between to prevent further damage, before veering away from the formation in order to land.
Nezdarvyth skips ::between::!
Nezdarvyth appears in a flash of spinning gears and broken cogs. Drat! The super duper invention of world domination broke!
Nezdarvyth glides gently down to the Festival Grounds.

From Isamath's neck, Isamath roars with frustration as Thread sneaks by her, Ash patting her neck distractedly as she concentrates on the next clump, glancing back only for a single moment to see that Nissionath, with a few powerful strokes, aligned herself with the Thread missed by the younger gold pair - which was quickly dispatched by Vaeli. Her attention is caught once again, however, as an elegant pull of Isa's wings brings them directly to the clump that had skittered by Maiioth, Ash flaming it angrily. "Take that. And that."

From her's comfortable position on Maiioth's lilypad green neck Kalaeya receives a medium score on the wrist!

Elbareth skips between to come up above the thread. One of her newer wingmates catches it before it could fall any farther. Tstar takes only a moment to signal ajob well done before both riders turn back to the fall. One of the heavier wings seems to break apart as their line is hit with a heavy clump. Someone screams but the clump falls no farther and the wing above reforms.

B'au silently wonders why on his first day back fighting Thread he gets so much coming his way. Perhaps it wants to make up for the Falls he's missed… Swearing loudly he holds another bit of stone out for Niwath, but no sooner have they seared a tendril of Thread, sending ashes trailing behind them, when X'ner's hit and B'au cries out, twisting around and trying to see the bronze Nezdarvyth and his rider.

From Dyamith's neck, Desba receives a medium score on the upper arm!

Vorkoroth continues rallying his troops. Or, well, passing along Wyn's commands. As an unpredictably moving spiral taxes his comrades-in-flame nearby, the blue kicks on the afterburners and goes diving after it, rumbling reassurance to Isamath as he bottoms out a few dozen feet above her, before climbing back up again.

A long, thin strand of Thread tumbles downwards towards Vorkoroth.

A group of Threads fall past Niwath, one after another, plodding downward with mindless determination.

A school of silvery Threads surround Isamath, darting this way and that as the wind buffets them.

From Isamath's neck, Ashli receives a medium score on the scalp!

Dyamith receives a medium score on the haunches!

Maiioth screams with pain as her rider is scored, skipping between instantly and leaving a place open in the wing's ranks.
Maiioth skips ::between::!
Maiioth flicks calmly in from ::BETWEEN:: in a flash of tranquil celadon.
Maiioth glides gently down to the Festival Grounds.

Dyamith roars with pain as his rider's score registered, and the momentary hestiation costs them both dearly, as the dragon is reading to skip he is caught by a clump. Desba's curses loudly as the pair dissappears.
Dyamith skips ::between::!

From Isamath's neck, Ashli receives a slight score on the calf!

Dyamith blinks in from ::between::!
Dyamith glides gently down to the Festival Grounds.

The worst of the thread is starting to dwindle, with only sporadic clumps here and there ready for flaming.

From Isamath's neck, Ashli shrieks as she realizes Thread is around them, all around them, and she cries, "Isa…" before her yell is suddenly overtaken by a cry of pain, silvery Thread suddenly entangled in dark curls, curving to slice onto her calf before continuing downwards, Isamath roars suddenly, though her roar is lost as just as suddenly the ice cold nothingness of between envelops the two…
Isamath suddenly disappears into the cold darkness of ::between::!

Myrrheth bursts in from ::between:: in a brilliance of ruby-dusted absinthe.

Niwath is distracted by his rider's shock - sister and partner scored - and misses the next clump of Thread he tries to flame, instead flying right into the path of another, larger cluster. Creeling with shock he flicks between just in time, rider's arms up to protect his face - but with no forethought for where they'd appear, it's immediately in the path of Tstar that they do return…

Experiencing Vorkoroth's forward momentum, Wyn is enjoying the uncomfortable experience of watching her wing of riders falling apart at the seams. Eyes wide behind her flight goggles, she entertains a moment of "Oh -great-, now what?" that's as close to panic as Wyn ever really gets, before settling her shoulders grimly and calling out orders to rally the remaining troops, echoed along by Vorkoroth to where her voice doesn't carry. "Dneeth, Darth, form up on my wing. S'titch, stop looking like you're going to vomit and get Entymeth to cover Maiioth's spot. Chrys, you and Masth are opposite them on the other side of the V. Drop altitude and support the Istans, don't try to match them."

Wheeling end over end across Vorkoroth's flightpath, a ring of Thread spins its way down towards the greenery below.

Vorkoroth, meanwhile, is focused solely on what's at hand, with regret and recrimination and review something to be done later. He dives after the falling Thread ring, then roars with mild pain as the wind blows the char straight back into his face. Success, but… ouch.

M'raid stiffens, biting his lip. It's starting to feel lonely up here. Thank goodness for Wyn and Vorkoroth and /orders/ - giving M'raid something to do besides get so nervous as to potentially bawl and Dneeth something to do besides aimlessly glide. Dneeth forms up the wing as ordered and M'raid's grip on himself relaxes to something less likely to break. Here and accounted for.

A notable clump of thread falls before a bronze; the dragon barely pauses to flame the clump.

A weyrling winks in from ::BETWEEN:: to toss a firestone bag to a blue, and quickly winks back out.

Iredith sails, the deep chartreuse of her backside glimmering in the caress of the breeze, in from the northeast.

A sneaky clump of Thread slinks past Dneeth.

A mirrorlike pane of Thread suddenly appears before Vorkoroth, reflecting him image back in eerie silvery distortion.

The last of thread comes sparingly, being cut from it's life by a few mingling dragons. Wings out in front begin to disappear to go home.

Elbareth sees Niwath, and tries to evade, the nimble green almost manages it but her tail clips the blue, throwing her ballance off slightly and threatening to send her reeling back /into/ the paniced pair. Tstar keeps her head and the pair vanish between completing the roll in unoccupied space a few moments later. The greenrider's expression, if B'au and Niwath could see it would probably have saved thread thet trouble, and given them both heart attacks, but there wasn't time at this point to actually deal with it, but the pair'd have to be carefull /after/ this fall was over.

Vorkoroth may have more nobility than sense at times, but a wall of Thread in front of him triggers useful instincts such as self-preservation. He flames once to lighten the load for those below, then skips between rather than pulling an Immelmann turn and risking a belly score.
Vorkoroth skips ::between::!
Vorkoroth reverts to three-space from the wormhole of ::between::.

B'au is too bewildered to even make a sound as Elbareth's tail clips him, but luckily the blow to his haunches isn't enough to make him lose much balance. It's good that the Thread has ceased to fall, because the blue and his
rider have time to collect themselves, though they're still both severely shaken. "Down, Niwath," B'au manages to say finally, and the pair swoop for a landing - as far away from Tstar as possible.

Iredith goes home.

That sneaky bit of Thread, if Dneeth reacts to it with more speed than he has been, still takes too much attention and time before he finishes it with it. Vorkoroth's leavings fall a little too far for comfort before Dneeth is quite finished, but finish he does. What one lacks in efficience, one makes up for in persistence. M'raid makes further mental notes on what they as a pair need to work on as he betweens home.

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