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Dalibor is a semi-canon Dragonriders of Pern site. No knowledge of the series or site is required to join; players of all experience levels are welcome here. Founded in 2008 on Proboards and moved to Jcink in 2013, Dalibor has been running for nine years.

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Autumn, 18th Turn, 11th Pass

Upcoming Flights/Runs:
Copper Laanasuth
Copper Zelsk

Upcoming Hatchings:
Red Cereza
Green Quince

Wedding bells ring out to celebrate the joining of Lord Callum to Lady Shuli. A grand gather has been put together with people from all over Pern coming to celebrate! Crescent is full to the brim with those who wish to show their support and those just looking to make (or spend) a few marks!

Copper Zelsk shook things up at the Copper Class graduation feast by beginning her run shortly after the knots were delivered to her handler. Bronze Osk won Zelsk's maiden run and now a sizable clutch lays on the sands hardening. Not to be outdone by the ground-bound copper, Copper Laanasuth took to the skies the very next day - though her flight was not as cut and dry as the wher's run had been. Offended by the force catch attempt of a presumptuous burgundy Laanasuth betweened to High Reaches Weyr where one of their dragons won her flight. Though she has returned to Dalibor and laid a large clutch for Dalibor's candidates the Weyr awaits the transfer of the dragon sire and his rider, Dalibor's newest Junior Weyrleader.
Leadership
Weyrwoman
Rayna of Gold Couineth - Boo

Weyrleader
Z'dyn of Iron Baihujinth - Rhia

Jr. Weyrwoman
Jali of Copper Laanasuth - Rii

Jr. Weyrleader
???

Alphahandler
Norla of Bronze Norsk - Ives

Betahandler
Oreanda of Bronze Osk - Ruin
Der of Grey Desk - Rii

Weyrlingmaster
K'ton of Blue Ironth- Jenn
S'vor of Green Absinth - Ruriko
Nia of Pink Koeneth - Catsitta

Wherlingmaster
Ijo of Brown Isk - Rhia
Pavir of Blue Pavisk - Captain
Swithin of Blue Swisk - Ives

Candidatemaster
Ulian of White Rivath - Ruin
Zanii of Black Zansk - Leo

Staff
Admins
Ivy
Rii
Ruin

Historians

Rhia
Tobes

Advertisers

Captain
Tigersilk
Credits
Dalibor was created by Bre, continued by Cathaline, and is now owned and operated by Ruin. Most of the information, rules, and graphics were made, compiled, or written by staff with credit given to those whose resources they used. Stock thanks to credited parties. All characters and posts are copyrighted to the members of the game. No material from this site should be copied in any way, shape, or form without utter express permission from the members and staff. All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's 'Dragonrider of Pern' series are copyright Anne McCaffrey 1967-2017, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with general permission for non-commercial purposes without monetary gain.

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 Grove Weyr: Basecamp, WI:17 {Jungle Basecamp}
Ruin
 Posted: Oct 29 2017, 05:55 PM
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O'men found Ulian at Janora's bedside, their cool hands pressed against her burning forehead, the other hand painting her exposed skin with a cloth-wrapped chunk of ice. It was good they'd found a ready source down South. Many of those already ill were throwing their backs into saving those so far gone. Chunks of the stuff were being lined around the very feverish to try and bring it down. Ice bathes, anything of the sort, so when the Journeyman voiced his idea, Ulian found logic.

"She's strong, or she'd be gone already." The Master mulled it over. "We fever when we fight something off inside, the fever is a byproduct, but it hurts us too. We know that, we've lost people time and again whose fever reaches a critical level. Our medicinals are to lower fever. Cool cloths, ice. It won't take away what is already in there, but it will give the body a chance to fight longer. Longer than it would than if we just let the fever burn us out." Ulian looked down at the woman again.

"It's a good idea, and it just might work. I'm not sick yet, and Rivath is small, we can tie them to her neck, to me. It's less risky," they said the last softly. For many reasons they were the less valuable target in this scenario. They had no relationships beyond those patient and client in nature. They had no family, and they were very little use here beyond the academic level. If a surgery was required, they could hold the scalpel but not make the cut. "I'm not sick, and we're both fresh. No risk of our mind wandering."


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Mopsy93
 Posted: Oct 29 2017, 08:44 PM
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Seeing that she and a Greehandler that she hadn’t really seen much of when they were in the same Weyr (and he was a part of Dalibor judging by the knots on his shoulder) had found a strange flower she would have to ask around Base Camp about it. The female Burgundyrider liked the colour of it, though she didn’t know much else about it or whether or not it was toxic or otherwise dangerous to her health which certainly would be a mitigating factor to her liking it if not completely changing her opinion on it. With that in mind she didn’t handle the flower that she found much or keep it close to herself in gerneral.

Of course if there was a more important use of the flower than her sense of aesthetics, plus she didn’t actually know how to care for the plant and that probably counted for many of the people around the camp. With Koloth interested in this as well had double the motivation to find out this preferably before she went out into the jungle again though she didn’t really know who to ask about it. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long to figure this out and she would finally have an answer.


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Ives
 Posted: Oct 29 2017, 09:05 PM
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After her cold water bath had reduced her swelling she was pulled from the basin and lathered up with a salve intent on reducing the itchiness of her bug bites. At first she didn’t think it would work, she still itched so badly, but once it had been on her for a few minutes the urge to itch died down. Candlemarks passed with her throat still relatively swollen but that too became less severe as time ticked on and soon she was able to breathe deeply. She’d come so close to death due to those sharding bugs but it appeared, for the briefest of moments, that she was heading towards being in the clear.

Falling asleep once she could breathe with ease she fell into an uneasy rest - uneasy because as her swelling faded her fever was climbing. It had gone unnoticed due to the heat of the swollen bites, her allergic reaction masking it for what it truly was. With only some minor swelling still visible on her skin it became clear she was flushed for another reason - she was sick. Waking up she found herself drenched in sweat with no recollection of the day before. Where was she? Where was her weyrmate? Why was it so sticky and warm? Looking around she slowly sat up - or would have if she weren’t so weak.

What was happening to her?

VESSA WORSE! Orange eyes were spiked with red as Vessk rushed forward to rub her head beneath Vessa’s hand as it dangled from her cot. Slowly she tried to help fill in the blanks in her handler’s mind, an attempt to help keep her calm. Panic mounted in the back of her mind and she began to breath in quick, short breaths - she was lightheaded due to both her illness and her breathing pattern. The green wher nipped at Vessa’s arm to try and force the woman to focus but her mind was racing, wandering, and Vessk was having a hard time understanding it all.

Healers came, realizing rather quickly that she had the same thing as the burgundyrider who had come in earlier that day. Had they been exploring the same zone? No. Had they both been bitten by bugs? No. As they tried to figure out what the pair had in common a grisly realization hit them - the rider and handler had nothing in common outside of the air they shared within the healer’s tent; and the healers themselves. Of course it could have also been tainted water if those filling their cool water basins had mixed some from Janora’s into Vessa’s somehow - they weren’t certain and uncertainty was terrifying. While they didn’t know the cause of the illness they knew her fever needed to be lowered quickly or she risked becoming even worse.

More cool baths with ice were given, not that she was conscious for many of them. Slipping in and out of consciousness over the next day she was able to wake up on occasion to drink water and whatever concoction they might come up with to try and heal her. Soon the baths had to stop because they couldn’t risk her drowning, her lungs were beginning to rattle so she was propped to lay at a slight incline keeping her airways clear.

”Va...el…”

It was the only word she had said as she slipped in and out of her delirious state. Vessk stayed out of the way but refused to leave even when hunger began to gnaw at her. Thankfully she found herself not having to hunt as Norsk entered the tents and dropped a mawfull of wherries in front of her, Stay strong, best way protect and keep Yours here.

Norla had tried denying she was feeling feverish but the swelling on her neck behind her jaw was too obvious a sign - especially once she heard about others falling ill. She was given a mask to help keep her from getting worse, hopefully, and to also help keep her from spreading it further, hopefully. A lot of things were riding on hope, it was worrisome to say the least. Cleaning her hands and arms with redwort she sat by Vessa’s cot, thankful she was still able to do so. Holding the woman’s hand she looked to the green, ”Does he know yet?”

Vessk no tell, no tell other to tell. No need tell. Ripping one of the wherries apart she began eating, it didn’t help heal Hers but at least now Vessa would not be bothered by the hunger pains radiating from the green. Get sick if come, so no tell.

Nodding at the green’s wisdom Norla sighed, patting Vessa’s hand gently before she stood and carefully washed down with more redwort. She might be ill but so were most of those running around trying to help - she wasn’t going to sit idly by until she was forced to by her own illness. Spying another handler in the area designated for the injured or ill she made her way over to him, ”Rider, yes? You’re sick too I take it?” A simple nod was the only answer he offered; not that it was needed as his cheeks were visibly flushed and he was sweating. The shirt he wore was open, leaving his stitched torso visible and the bronzehandler cringed. ”Are you able to get around without much discomfort? If so you need to help the healers with anything they need help with.”

Offering a grin Rider rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, ”As long as I don’t have to carry people around I should be okay, Alphahandler. Ridesk will help too.” Casting a wary eye on the cyan she canted her head to the side, You should write symptoms down. Know what looking for in others. Good research.

We’ll leave the writing to the harpers, if we need you for getting supplies around you’d best be on your best behavior. Rider shot back as he nodded to Norla, the woman’s attention turning towards her own wher.

I want all whers in the south contacted, let them know we expect them to help where they can.

Many sick, help if can. No get sick if not already sick, stay away. Mask, gloves, clean of-ten. No leave south if sick. Contain sick to here, no spread. Norsk’s mind reached out to all of Dalibor’s whers in Grove or the surrounding areas. Things were getting grim - all they could do at this point was try and contain it so they did not become grimmer.

[ALL WHERHANDLERS - tagged by Norsk. @RhiaBlack @Ruin @Raining @whoever needs to see this? IDK ANYMORE. Norla and Rider will help until they succumb to their illness. TELL THEM WHAT TO DO.]


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Raining
 Posted: Oct 29 2017, 10:57 PM
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[Da'on - Healer]
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Da'on had a not nice sounding argument (because that was where his mood was) if O'men refused the probably tainted water. And then he watched something click on his husband's face, and it was something he'd seen before. Disapproval that his husband wasn't hydrating was pushed down as he waited for him to put his thoughts into words. He wasn't even sure how O'men's mind was still able to form coherent thoughts. Da'on was pissed that nothing has popped into his own head about what to do. This was all maddening, and it was taking all that he had to not have a mental breakdown.

Janora's condition wasn't helping, the other Healers that had succumbed to that stage of sickness wasn't helping. Da'on didn't want to die here, and he didn't really let those thoughts touch his conscious mind. Roiath was his only source of calm, and therefore he needed his blue calm. But with this fever, it was getting harder to convince Roiath that he was fine. It was stress. Not... that.

Da'on's hands were on O'men as soon as the cough, and the mug (despite handwashing was pushed back into his love's hands) "Talk and drink. This is the only water we have, if you don't I am pulling you off this," Da'on snipped, completely serious. He wanted O'men to test him, because he would rather O'men off his feet than working.

The bluerider listened to O'men's idea.. and a mixture of a sort of bright elation and something else, hesitation formed on his face. But Da'on focused on the former. "I'd rather someone healthier take them between... i'd hate for you to.. " he said only for Da'on to not want to say something similar.

Da'on's hands were in redwort, (somehow also ingrained in his brain by now) before they were on his Husband, "I know, I know, love," he spoke moving to catch O'men's eyes. Focus on me his own eyes said,as he stepped against O'men offering what comfort he could. They were both feeling rotten, and the fear of what was to come was just... there on the edges of their minds. This was all he could offer, because this was probably the only moment they'll get before they'd need to move again. "Its a good idea, my heart. We will figure this out. Together. With the others." He pressed his lips to O'men's jaw, "we're not dying here." They had people who still needed them.

Bo.. and Z'dyn..

Da'on couldn't leave either of them behind. The thought threatened to cut off his breathing and send him into a panic attack.

The Journeyman didn't let O'men walk away without drinking that water.

Da'on was moving as soon as Vessk called out. He was one of the Healers at her side, and it seemed she too fell into the same stages as Janora. Ulian was with the Burgundy rider, so Da'on, while he had to wait for something to change or shift... tried to be there for everyone. Especially those who were most sick, he had to try and keep them all from drowning from the inside.

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RhiaBlack
 Posted: Oct 29 2017, 11:24 PM
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This was why they were married. Da'on knew him, sometimes, better than he knew himself, and all it took was the singular contact of hands to his body and lips to his jaw, and it helped to solidify his resolve once more. No matter how tired he was, no matter how exhausted his body wanted to be, he had to keep going. People needed both of them, not just here but elsewhere.

"I'm going to hold you to that, you know," he murmured back, one red-stained hand settled against the nape of his husband's neck as he pressed his forehead to Da'on's, no matter the fact he had to stoop just a little bit to do so.

If anyone questioned who his heart belonged to, there was nothing to deny it. He held Da'on in the midst of the panic for a momentary reprieve, just as he had in that moment, and then drained the contents of the mug dry.

"Ulian said they would," he spoke up quietly. "They're healthier than we are. Nothing to cloud the mind or otherwise, they can stand it, I'm not sure if I can or not. I just hope they don't catch it."

The only quiet admitting of his own worsening condition. It scared him to death, truth be told, but he didn't have time to be afraid. Someone had to find something, and if they could come up with a solution to at least buy time until the Farmcrafters came up with something, then all the better.

"The sooner the better," he indicated the Master Mindhealer with the too-fragile Burgundyrider. "I worry the ice won't be helping for too long."

And then Vessk's panic got his attention, and O'men was off again, with a quiet tug on the back of Da'on's neck.

"We're taking a month off when this is over," he spoke up. "You, me, and Bo. And we're not leaving the bed for at least a sevenday."

A tugging up of the corners of his eyes, which warmed considerably despite their exhaustion. Small things. The sparks that kept the flame going, the desire to reflect on the current times as nothing but a hiccup in the world, if they were so lucky. Hopefully things would sort, and the worst would be over; he wasn't sure how much failure he'd be able to take in one go, and if they lost any more people, he'd be feeling the burn in a whole other way.

"I'll be over there with more ice in a minute, I need to see Ulian first. We've got to get her between to see if it helps."

@Raining - Da'on
@Ruin - Ulian


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Ruin
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 12:07 AM
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Rivath was ready and waiting with her saddle and trailing straps. Ulian even moreso, thoroughly dressed in riding leathers. Something they hadn't done since they flew to Fort for their knots, and before that? Weyrlinghood probably. It was an odd situation indeed, but even if they were a terrible Rider, straps could keep anyone in the saddle. That's why the good Pernese before them had created them.

"We'll take as many as we need to, Rivath does not tire easily and this will hardly be flying at all. Ten counts, and we'll be back. If it lessens Janora's fever we should continue with the worst ones, and then we'll continue after that."

The Mindhealer certainly was an odd sight, at least they imagined to be so. Perhaps looking the part of Dragonrider was most bizarre of all. Professional to a fault, they made sure Janora's digits were well swaddled from the biting cold of between before even considering sending Rivath there. Then they were up and out. The little White needed so little clearance they didn't even have to go more than a few handspans or two from the ground, though she rose just a little bit higher than that at Ulian's urging. Weyrlinglessons stuck for an eternity it seemed.

Blackness swallowed them. The cold bit into their cheeks as they began counting, holding in their mind the image of Grove and the airspace they had only just occupied. They did not let their mind wander. Not even as their teeth chattered, not even when Janora finally seemed to shiver as well in the final count.

Then back again. Ulian undid the straps with slightly numbed fingers and handed her off to the waiting healers. While they waited for the verdict, they wriggled their toes and warmed their hands with their own breath speed along the process of chasing away between


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Ruin
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 12:33 AM
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Betahandler





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[I am fluid-timing this and double-posting because PLOTS]


They always told them that the first day on any new assignment was the hardest. They had taken that into consideration and decided to disregard it as false and make the best of every day. Then they had this day. They and Rivath had been taking people between for more time than they'd been in the actual world. Or so it seemed. And possibly felt. Ulian was certain they would never be warm again, but it had worked. Nothing could resist the cold of that place, not even fever. Unfortunately, it didn't last as long as they had hoped. These fevers burned so hot. Even when someone they had not wanted to see here was brought in a broken mess, they continued.

Much had changed overnight.

Janora's fever had broken at last, perhaps due to the time between giving her body time to heal itself. That hadn't erased the massive buildup of gelatinous fluid in her lungs, she would have to remove that herself once she had gotten her strength back enough to cough.

Some fevers had equally fought their last fight. Those people were left with a rattle and a cough. The question was, were they still vectors?

Yet it was not all good. More were coming in daily, namely Kiveena and Sebolaren, and by the end of this day even Ulian would be running a low-grade fever. Vessa had worsened again.

Then there were the casualties.

Three stages of sickness, each seemingly one day, and on the fourth day? Death. Though some had seemed to recover at any stage.


Day 4
  • Vessa - Wherhandler - Stage Three - Fever, lung obstruction, delirium.
  • Borna - Healercrafter - Stage Three - Fever, lung obstruction, delirium.
  • Figban - Healercrafter - Stage Three - Fever, lung obstruction, delirium.
  • Noqu - Healercrafter - Stage Three - Fever, lung obstruction, delirium.
  • Kyora - Bakercrafter - Stage Three - Fever, lung obstruction, delirium.
  • Ghell - Weyrfolk - Stage Three - Fever, lung obstruction, delirium.
  • Amalthea - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Saraion - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Foem - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Q'ivi - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Mutorin - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Barret - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Rider - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Casser - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Obanna - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Mally - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Tikgav - Wherhandler -Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Darrian - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Hojyorn - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Parak - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Willnaub - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Sallava - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Lorine - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Qall - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Kiveena - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Sebolaren - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Nisha - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • K'tallan - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • D'arbak - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Liszna - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Wort - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Feerga - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Wanna - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Hoki - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Preyla - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Annis - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Tardanndo - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Hoornon - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Mnorik - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Bagallis - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Wornoyt - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Vickanda - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Paelian - Candidate - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Ho'dandi - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Gallan - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • T'tulla - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
Recovering
  • Janora - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 3 Recovery - No Fever, excessive fluid in lungs, swelling receding.
  • O'men - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Da'on - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Norla - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Ruoban - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
Deceased
  • Varshim - Healercrafter
  • Toshia - Healercrafter
  • Wellum - Healercrafter
@RhiaBlack @Raining @Zane @Mopsy93 @Ivy @Leo @summerrain @Captain


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Mopsy93
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 10:15 AM
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One day walking around Base Camp trying to find answers about the flower that Kiveena and Sebolaren came across during their part of the expedition, now swollen and feverish along with many other people in the infirmary. Kiveena wasn’t all that happy with the situation, after all who wanted to be sick far from home with something that could be deadly judging by the three dead Healer crafters. As much as she didn’t like the situation she found herself in, the progression of symptoms didn’t make her any happier either and she somewhat blamed the flower that she came across considering that was only thing that changed that Kiveena could remember.

Koloth wasn’t happy about the situation either, though thankfully it wasn’t that she wasn’t going on expedition out into the jungle, after all he couldn’t live without her and couldn’t bring himself to think of it. Of course Kiveena’s four firelizards weren’t allowed to come to her, the last thing the people around her needed was a Black, a Blue, and two Pink firelizards coming in trying to reassure themselves and their bonded. Her fair wasn’t at all happy about that but there wasn’t much they could do about it other than spend time with Kiveena’s family which was the next best thing for them though it didn’t help Shiff and his paranoia one bit.


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Ruin
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 11:54 AM
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He usually didn't get sick, not even when he was at his worst and most darkest places. Something to do with growing up among the animals at Ruatha, he always wagered. So when this finally came up on him, as he had hoped it would not. It came up hard and fast. Sesk seemed to notice something was amiss first, her head constantly tilted up at him, her eyes swirling in that slow way when she was trying to suss out what was happening. The sweating was just from exertion surely. He still wasn't back to his old early-twenties fitness. Before everything had happened.

But it wasn't.

The firelizards knew it, Sesk knew it. He was the last to know it. And when it hit him, it felled him as surely as an axe fells a tree. He'd only just made it to the infirmary, was barely inside the entrance, when he fell with little dignity. Sesk only just managed to pounce beneath him, saving his face and nose from a broken fate, but there was little else she could do than stand there with his weight laid out across her back, the thud of his heartbeat erratic against her hide.

Sesk's need help, help NOW she cried plainly, panic setting in as her long tail swept back and forth like a heavy board behind her, threatening to knock aside anyone who got within range of it. The firelizards reacted to this growing anxiety and began alternating between landing on the man and flying in a tight loop overhead, like a roiling ball of colours that never seemed to collide but came so close. The Wherhandler was muttering under his breath, but his eyes were white so far had they rolled back.


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summerrain
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 12:03 PM
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After the healers had placed Amalthea and Barret in their cots, Barresk had pushed the two of them closer together, on Amalthesk's request, before curling up around the Green's form, an attempt to comfort and reassure her that he would not leave. The two Handlers had faded in an out of consciousness since being brought in by their whers. Amalthea had regained lucidity just enough to take the hand of her weyrmate before falling unconscious again.

When the first test of taking the sick between seemed to succeed, Amalthesk lifted her head from where it had rested on Barresk's neck. She nuzzled Barresk, waking the Blue, and shared what she'd heard with him. Neither of them had moved since settling down behind the two cots the night before. Three Healers had died during the night. The whers could hear the changes in their handlers, the sound of the rattling breathing stood out quite obviously to them.

Finally Amalthesk uncurled and stretched, the ache in her joints fading with the movement. She walked to the far side of Amalthea's cot, nosing at her handler with sad eyes. Amalthesk's be okay... Right? she asked the nearest healer. Barresk's be okay too? Unlike the other dragonkin, some of whom had been more than a little panicked when their bonded fell ill, Amalthesk's fear was much more subtle. Her grey swirling eyes and the tone of her mindvoice gave away the truth of how deep her fear actually was. Barresk's silence and equally grey eyes were the only indications of his fear, as he watched the Green as closely as he'd been watching both of their Handlers. Though he was selective with his affection, Amalthesk was his as much as Barret was. This much, at least, would be clear to anyone who observed them closely enough.


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Tobes
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 10:36 PM
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[continued from Expedition thread]

There was no fighting it. Before any of them knew what was happening the snake was upon them, its gaping mouth latched tight to W’ryn’s shoulder while the rest of it circled, circled, winching itself down around rider and handler with inexorable strength. Somewhere in the distance Earth was crying out, as if from another world altogether, though W’ryn tried to hold onto the thread of his mind for as long as possible. Yoris likewise was reaching out to his Red, so far inside her own mind in that moment that he could not properly tell which of them was victim and which rescuer. It brought a strange sense of calm--not only had he been perfectly correct about never stepping foot in this sharding jungle, but there was a sense of permanence in the link he shared with his wher. Even if this were the death of him, and in that moment he was sure of it, enough of them was shared that some part would live on through her.

Yorisk’s hateful anger so long bottled found its outlet in the wreckage of the snake’s body. But for nothing. At thirty feet long to her seven there was simply no contest. Her Yoris was dying. It was almost a comfort when the terrible head loosed its grip on the rider to face its attacker, for at least she might go down fighting, and not be left alive and unbonded after.

Earth shrilled with combined fear and hurt, diving down over and over into the canopy as far as his wings would allow, which was not nearly far enough. He was trying to reach them. If only he could have grabbed W’ryn he would have taken them both between to save them from hurting. But he did not want to go alone, did not want to go without them. He would beat himself to pieces trying. He was pleading into the air for anyone to help, anything, the great boom of his voice carrying as far as it could, an assault on anything with a brain.

W’ryn was drawing inward and away from him as the last of the air was squeezed from their lungs. Blood pooled in the spaces between the coils, slowing the heartbeat to almost nothing. It felt almost as if it were happening to someone else and they were only a spectator to this quizzical scene, no different than if they had been looking at something down on the ground from Earth's eyes while they flew. It was peaceful. There was nothing left to fight. Images darted briefly into view at the edges of their vision and they recognized it as their own life, but devoid of the harder edges of emotion. Their mother, and the canines, and their father, and all that life had been in Southern. Meeting L'xon and Impressing Earth. Flying in blue skies, through rain, through Thread. Ulian. There was a muffled pang of some distant feeling on that last, which W'ryn's brain helpfully labeled: sadness. They had wanted so much, it had been so close to something good, maybe, but now they would never know.

Something white flickered in their vision, just a second before the inner popping of their own ribs coming undone sent them down into welcome unconsciousness. Earth was keening like death, his voice still a bombardment of hurt and need even as a rescue effort was mounted. He was sane enough to get out of the way of those who could help, and no more. Twice W'ryn's mind swam back to the surface and touched his reassuringly, and then back out, lost to darkness again.

Together the white phantom and the ichor-stained Wher pulled the snake apart. Yoris was recovered first, deathly pale, unable to do more than wrap his fingers around Yorisk's snout in gratitude as she wound around him as gently as she could, both of them a mess of dirt and gore. W'ryn was worse.

Touch and go.

--

In and out.

Several times W'ryn's consciousness tried to pull itself together and move towards... anything at all. Sometimes it pulled towards the light at the far end of the room, but was always retrieved back by a tug from another direction, a firm, Not yet, not where I cannot reach you. With less resistance it rose a few times to take note of something it could not make sense of--a warm sensation, the sound of a voice, the peculiar feel of bones grinding in new, backwards ways. The liberal application of fellis numbed everything to sensations devoid of pain.

But the fellis juice was wearing off. It didn't do to drug your patients to death, or to over-apply a medicinal that might interfere with the illness to come, if it did. Yoris' injuries had been lesser--not good by any means, but less--and it became apparent that he had been gripped by fever. There was no telling if W'ryn would develop it next, or if they intended to live long enough to find out. W’ryn knew none of this. Only that what before had been meaningless sensation was taking on a sharper, critical edge. Even as the fellis broke down in their body they were still lost in a feverish dream, the coils of a massive tunnelsnake holding them down, the terror upon them all over again.

W'ryn's eyes flickered open and immediately wished they hadn't. The light hurt. Everything hurt. Even with only the edge gone from the analgesics their whole body felt a bruise, which was not far from the truth. The snake had broken them as completely as could be expected without outright death. Broken bones, ruptured tendons--it would take a long time to take stock, but even those parts left miraculously whole were some combination of swollen, purple-black, or both.

W'ryn blinked slowly, cautious to cause further damage with even so small an action, as their vision expanded slowly outward. Even their eyes felt unwell, and to look at them would confirm, for the sclera had gone blood-red from the pressure of constriction. The feelings in their dream had not been wholly imagined, but were the result of several splints holding parts in place, preventing unintentional movements from causing further harm. Everything was unfamiliar, save the steady press of Earth's mind, enough to steady oneself against. It was hard to focus on more than one thing at a time, and if anyone were in the room, even their own new pet, W’ryn was unaware of it for that short moment.

They wake, was all the Blue rumbled, his voice automatically reaching to those close enough to need telling. He thought of adding a dour 'For now,' which was true. They were not wholly there. Darkness beckoned. It was only that the hurting called so much louder. Earth knew it even if W'ryn did not--they were not out of the forest yet. There was still the possibility of something breaking beyond repair or of finding a new, unreachable injury. Later they would learn the improbability of what had happened--that their lungs had not punctured and that no organs had burst. For now they only had room to grapple with the unexpected reality of having survived.

[OOC note: For reference purposes, mostly so I don’t have them using a thing they shouldn’t, W'ryn's injuries are as follows. I tried to imagine getting squeezed and twisted?
Fractured and dislocated ribs—multiple, both sides
Bite wound—left arm
Fractured radius, ulna, clavicle—right arm
Herniated disc—lower spine, mild symptoms
Patellar tendon rupture—left leg
Dislocated hip—left leg
Fractured fibula—left leg]


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Sakoru
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 11:40 PM
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The snow and ice had seemed so safe at first. Ice could never really be trusted, that was true – Fraggle and Didnala knew better than to go quickly, and they tested their steps – but it was so deep here that it hardly seemed alarming. There was so much of it, and no sign of anything fracturing beneath their feet. So they kept going forward, with the two whers following behind, occasionally pausing to dig and play in the snow, all animosity forgotten.

Following behind their handlers would have doomed them too. Frask released a sharp scream as Hers disappeared into the ice, but was prevented from leaping after him both by the depth of the crack and the knowledge that killing herself would do nothing for Fraggle. Snarling her concern, she stared down over the lip of the break, trying to see Hers. Mine! Is alive? Is hurt? Across their bond, she couldn’t feel any tremendous anguish, but next to her Didnask was crying, swinging his head to and fro as he tried to catch sight of His.

DidnalaMine! Wake up! he called, and he dug his claws into the edge of the broken ice, trying to croon his comfort to His. Didnala could not hear him. Even as Fraggle pulled himself slowly off of her, the bluehandler didn’t move. Dazedly, the greenhandler stretched all of his limbs, testing everything to be sure that it wasn’t broken. Nothing felt broken; there was a sharp twinge along his side and one shoulder where he must have hit ice, and the hilt of his belt knife had left a nasty bruise on his stomach. Yet he was more or less in one piece; his face and hands were cut and bleeding, but not so badly as to stop him from functioning.

When he bent to wake her, he discovered that Didnala was not so well off. Even when he spoke her name and touched her shoulder, the bluehandler didn’t move. Shallow breath still raised her chest and sent puffs of mist into the air – but just barely. I’m fine, Frask, he sent to his bonded, and then called up to the pair, ”be calm, Didnask. Didnala needs you. I have rope, but I will need you to help me bring her up. I can’t climb this grade.”

Surprisingly, Didnask listened, although he had to fight the urge to pace back and forth in anxiety. Didnask wait, he called, and Fraggle accepted that as the only answer he would get. Fortunately, both he and Didnala had had the foresight to bring rope in their packs; the adventures with B’tor had proven that such things were absolutely essential. Carefully, the greenhandler managed to rig a harness so that he could strap her onto his back. Time was of the essence, for the bluehandler was badly injured – enough that she still wasn’t waking up. A quick evaluation had revealed superficial cuts and scrapes, but more concerning was the fact that one of her legs seemed to broken, and her ribs on one side yielded far too easily to pressure.

Best to work quickly and get her back to camp. Completing his creation, Fraggle made a sort of handle at one end of a long rope for the whers to grab onto, and though it took many tries, he managed to toss it up so that Frask and Didnask could grab it in their teeth and hold on. Then he was able to lash Didnala to his back (less delicately than he would have liked), and tether the whers’ rope to a body harness he had made for himself. With their help, he managed to climb up and deliver them both to safe ground.

That was only the beginning of it. Getting back to camp seemed sharding near impossible, but Didnala wouldn’t survive without the healers. Still securely tied to Fraggle’s back, she remained unconscious, her weight feeling ten times what it was as he started the long hike back to base camp. Frask and Didnask were needed to protect the two humans, or else he would have simply rigged a stretcher between them and had the two stronger creatures carry Didnala. But they were stronger and faster than he, and better guards, so they remained his protectors instead of burden-beasts.

When they finally made it to the healers’ camp, Fraggle dropped to his knees in exhaustion as Frask cried out, help Fraggle! and Didnask, louder: Didnask’s hurt! Didnask’s help!

@healers what want poor sad NPC patients o:


"Branches may stop the ordinary man, but B'tor "slapper of jungle cats" is no ordinary man."
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Ruin
 Posted: Oct 30 2017, 11:50 PM
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Betahandler





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@RhiaBlack - Brief Vessa note @ the top that's all!



Their world had been simple half a heartbeat ago.

They waited for another patient. Lashed them to Rivath's neck and their body. Went between, and, once there, counted to ten, and then returned. Untied them. Rinse and repeat. Every ten jumps they took a small break. This had been going on for over five candlemarks. Rivath was not tired, but the results were tending toward less than satisfactory. The cold only staved off the fever for so long, and sometimes it seemed to make things worse: Vessa came out from between on the verge of death, Ulian wagered. Eventually they whittled the list down to those who were the most ill. Then help had come. More jumpers and it was time for a break.

That was when they'd brought W'ryn in.

Ulian felt the world fall away as if they'd never left the darkness at all. Or maybe it had followed them out. They were supposed to talk. They'd only just...they'd come all this way and this was what the world did in return? Was this why so many people chose cowardice over bravery? To run instead of face fears? Because life turned out to be one silly joke after another? Rivath nosed Ulian hard in the ribs to remind them that she was there. Numbly they fumbled through the motions of removing her harness so she too could have a break.

The little White went to Earth, wound herself around his mind to lend him strength and comfort, then curled up in a little ball against his flank. Ulian stood there in the Bowl for several long moments, the white leather in his hands seeming so...vain and...gaudy in the moment. They didn't even have anywhere to hide them. As if the shame wasn't just the mind trying to sort through the fear. They hung the harness with the others in passing, and followed quietly after the growing group of Healers gathered around the Bluerider. It was only when everything seemed far darker than normal that they remembered to pull the flight goggles from their face.

The heavy woolen scarf, gloves, and thick helmet followed. Turning loose the wrist-thick braid of hair that had been coiled beneath. It was almost humorous. If they'd had a chance to talk...maybe...it seemed like such a childish thought to have but, if they'd had their chance to be something more. Someone would have pulled them away. Healers typically didn't work on the people they knew. On the people they...

It was dangerous. Fear could cloud the mind and dull the senses. Ulian would not have felt capable of helping anyway. Not for this. After. When the anxiety set in, the fear. This? This was for different specialities. So they could do nothing but watch, and then even that became too agonizing so they returned to the dying and continued their trips between until O'men or Da'on or possibly both forced them to stop. Rivath's hide was shaking slightly in the midday sun, her hide speckled with sweat that caught the sheen of rainbows.

Emotions were dangerous things for a Healer.

So they returned inside to rest, but ended up at W'ryn's bedside instead. At least here they could be watchful in their state of restlessness. It seemed like every time they would slip away they would then jolt awake, wondering if they'd heard a noise that meant the other had awoken. At some point they had managed to drift off, but their dreams were only darkness. A silent unending void. Earth's voice jolted them awake. A few long seconds of confusion, and then reality settled back in around their shoulders and neck hard enough to make the muscles scream in agony.

They uncoiled like one long ache, need forcing the action more than ability, their hands coming to rest on the padded bed where the Healers had laid W'yrn out. They leaned over just enough so that the other wouldn't need to move to know they weren't alone. The Rider's eyes told the story they hadn't even asked; one of those snakes had done this. "Everyone made it out alive. Your tree friend is safe, and with you. You are safe, but you are not sound. Do you understand. You will most likely have a fever soon. You need to rest, and..."

Ulian's throat tightened briefly, their red-stained slender fingers slipping into W'ryn's nearest hand; possibly the only undamaged part of their body. "You need to stay. You reach for Earth, or Rivath, or me. I'll be here as often as I can be, but if I'm not I'm only a word away."


@Tobes


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Ruin
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 12:46 AM
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Betahandler





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For a long time, Ulian had thought Vessa would die. The trip between had nearly seemed to kill her, as if it had exacerbated the symptoms of this..affliction. However over the next twelve hours her body seemed to undo the damage they had done, and by morning she was---surprisingly---in the recovery stage.

Many more were lost that night. Upon reaching Stage 3 it appeared to have a fifty percent mortality rate. Ulian did not know if there was any way to better those odds. They only knew that it was personal now.

Some seemed to get better after the first Stage, some invariably got worse. Was there a rhyme or reason? Everyone with any contact at all became ill. That was becoming apparent to every Healer in the Infirmary. Ulian did not doubt that they would discover firelizards and messages could carry the disease to other places, though the dragons and their relatives were still untouched by the affliction.

Those in recovery seemed immune from further infection, however testing was being conducted on whether or not the cough of a recovering person was infectious to those who had not yet been through infection. Thus far, tests proved this to be the case.


Day 5
  • Amalthea - Wherhandler - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Saraion - Wherhandler - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Foem - Dragonrider - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Q'ivi - Dragonrider - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Casser - Healercrafter - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Obanna - Weyrfolk - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Mally - Wherhandler - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Tikgav - Wherhandler -Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Darrian - Candidate - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Hojyorn - Candidate - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Parak - Weyrling - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Sebolaren - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Ulian - Dragonrider Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Nisha - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • K'tallan - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • D'arbak - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Liszna - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Wort - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Bagallis - Weyrbrat - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Wornoyt - Weyrbrat - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Vickanda - Weyrbrat - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Paelian - Candidate - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Ho'dandi - Weyrling - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Willnaub - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Sallava - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Lorine - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Qall - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Tardanndo - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Hoornon - Weyrbrat - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Fraggle - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Didnala - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • W'ryn - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Yoris - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Feerga - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Mnorik - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Gallan - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • T'tulla - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Wanna - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Hoki - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Preyla - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Annis - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Nishna - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Pitorill - Candidate - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Tz'nik - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Horoo - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Kallnis - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Ionaya- Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Paislik - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Qoori - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Borthna - Candidate - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Vollo - Candidate - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Grisda - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Por'gan - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Kelsh - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Guyver - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Feldrin - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Serrik - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
Recovering
  • Vessa - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 3 Recovery - No Fever, excessive fluid in lungs, swelling receding.
  • Janora - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 3 Recovery - No Fever, excessive fluid in lungs, swelling receding.
  • Mutorin - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 2 Recovery - No Fever, fluid in lungs, rattling cough.
  • Barret - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 2 Recovery - No Fever, fluid in lungs, rattling cough.
  • Rider - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 2 Recovery - No Fever, fluid in lungs, rattling cough.
  • O'men - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Da'on - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Norla - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Ruoban - Wherhandler - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
  • Kiveena - Dragonrider - Post-Stage 1 Recovery - No Fever, with rattling cough
Deceased
  • Varshim - Healercrafter
  • Toshia - Healercrafter
  • Wellum - Healercrafter
  • Borna - Healercrafter
  • Figban - Healercrafter
  • Noqu - Healercrafter
  • Kyora - Bakercrafter
  • Ghell - Weyrfolk


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Tobes
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 09:23 AM
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Earth had not needed to say anything for it to be known. In the time it had taken for W’ryn to wake this first time, Rivath was a touchstone. It was hard to say how much she had brought him back to sanity during that the flight from forest to Grove. All he knew was that his mind had not been his own until she had settled in around it and held it together while it was cracking to pieces. When she was away he would hunch into a tight circle of blue, hiding his own head beneath his wing, so rigid that his flesh trembled with the effort. Whenever she returned he would uncoil just enough for her to join him. He would have wished to hold her physically less at bay, to coil around her the way her mind was capable of encircling his own, but enough of him was left to know that it was not safe. If W’ryn let go, if he did not have time… he would not take Rivath with him by accident. As it was he would have to kick her away in time, but her touch was the closest thing to comfort, and carrying the grief and anxiety was lighter with her beside him.

As W’ryn began this first ascent into consciousness, and now quite certain that they too were not alone, he let his mind slip briefly to Rivath’s.
Was it you? Even a dragon’s voice could grow rusty from disuse. Even trying to keep the conversation to a whisper it was a grating noise, rock on rock. He had been so far gone in their shared pain that nothing of what either of them had seen made sense. But when he pulled far enough from the memory of it—easier and easier as his rider backed away from the edge of death—there was the flash of white indelibly burned there.

W’ryn’s eyes took a long moment to adjust, first staring past Ulian before pulling back into a nearer focus. It was an even longer moment as they tried to figure out who or what was before them, pushed well past its reasonable point by fellis, long sleep, and the mounting awareness of their own broken body. Realization finally dawned, their eyes widening and a smile breaking across their face simultaneously.

Ulian was talking. W’ryn was certain the words would make sense in hindsight, but in the moment it was more than they could piece together. Far more important was the knowledge of the Healer’s hand curled inside their own, tingling with the curious sensation left between numbness and feeling. Their fingers twitched twice before managing a firmer grip, and even that a shadow of what they should have been capable of. For now it was still the calloused grip of someone used to working. The motion emboldened them enough to try a small motion, just trying to lean forward into Ulian’s presence, but even half-drugged it was not enough to make the attempt more than a flicker of movement. Still enough that W’ryn’s eyes went wide and they had to bite back something too much like a whimper to let out. Ulian looked so worried. They could not attach a deeper understanding to it—only that they would do anything in their power to take that worry away. So no whimpering.

They were tired again. Already. But Ulian was here and they did not want that to end, so latched on to the only thing that promised to keep them awake even for a few minutes longer. Talking was not much easier a feat than moving had been, though after a few times they seemed to have enough control of to slur out a series of dry whispers.

“Told ya. Real lucky.” Even broken the Bluerider could not hold back a smirk, bitter-sweet as it was. Things could have been worse. Things could have been a whole lot better, too. Their brow scrunched as they focused harder in on the Healer’s face, their own concern dredging up through the haze.

“Ulian. You look…” not terrible, never terrible, but, “…look sick.” The hand within Ulian’s own pressed in a little harder, fingertips finding the spaces between their own, trying to lace them through.

“How many times you go between? ‘S too many. Rest. Please.” They took as deep a breath as their body allowed. Of all that had been damaged, the ribs were going to be an especial trouble, especially when the coughing came. And it would come. Already it was apparent that W’ryn was slipping away again, their voice petering into a threadier murmur.

“’M selfish. I’ll stay if you do.” It would not take long for them to fade out entirely again, their breathing shallowing out into something small enough to pass by without pain, but they held onto Ulian’s hand so long as it was there.

@Ruin


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RhiaBlack
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 10:18 AM
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O'men was adamant that Ulian maintain their health, but he couldn't honestly harp upon them when he, himself, had pushed his body to the limits of its capacities to continue treating those who were so despairingly ill. He'd kept going, but when he witnessed the way they settled beside W'ryn, once the other Rider had been brought in with such an absolutely horrifying condition, well...he knew there wouldn't be too much keeping the Master Mindhealer from their friend's side.

He was quick to intercede where Ulian felt less effective; W'ryn's broken bones were set and splinted quickly, all save the ribs, but there wasn't much he could do for those; it would he catastrophic if the Bluerider came down with the illness, as the cough would put them in horrible amounts of pain. Something that O'men quickly decided would have to be subdued by a bit of Fellis. Not enough to knock them completely out, but enough that it would help keep the coughing manageable. Not to mention with the back injury they had, it made such a thing almost necessary.

While W'ryn was out, O'men worked on relocating the other's hip, and then very, very gently, with Ulian's help, he lifted them on their less-injured side to check the state of their ribs. The dislocated ones were popped back into place as gently as he could manage to do, grabbing the unbroken portion and leaving the broken ones where they were. There was nothing he could do for broken ribs but put a pillow between W'ryn's arm and side, in attempts to hold them where they were and keep them from going into their lungs.

The latter, given the coughing, would be the worst part.

The knee, however, was what worried him the most. Without going in and surgically repairing the damage, W'ryn would never be able to stand on that leg; and it was serious enough that he looked to the Bluerider on whether or not they'd wish that to be done.

"W'ryn," he settled gently beside Ulian in one of the handful of times the other was coherent, "I can fix your knee, but it may require surgery to do so. I'll have to cut you open there, and re-attach the tendon. Without it, you won't be able to stand on that leg. You'll have to use a crutch and they may not let you fly because of it, is that something you're willing to let me do? If you want time to think about it, or talk about it with Ulian, that's perfectly fine. There's so much going on with you right now, I'd almost suggest that we do that at a later date, anyway. Not terribly later, however, the longer we wait, the more the muscle is going to tighten up, it could cause substantial pain, and it could also mean your leg will need a brace the remainder of your life."

@Ruin - Ulian
@Tobes - W'ryn

Mutt was getting better. He was relieved, but Qivi was getting sicker, and it motivated the Wherhandler-Farmcrafter to continue his research on the herbs and plants recovered from the jungle. There had to be something there that could help, but what?

[[Tobes - just in case you didn't see it in the Cbox - is W'ryn's patellar tendon rupture a full rupture or a partial? Partial can be repaired without surgery, full needs surgery!]]


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summerrain
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 10:37 AM
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Barret's fever had broken sometime during the previous night, but his eyes didn't open again until it was almost afternoon. He winced against the daylight, and before everything even came into focus he realized that one of his hands was really warm. He turned his head and saw his weyrmate, her pale skin still flushed with fever. Some time during the first two nights, she had taken his hand before falling unconscious again.

Barresk's awake? a voice asked tentatively. A blue face forced itself into Barret's line of sight, and with his free hand he reached up and gave his Blue a good rub between his headknobs.

Yeah, I think I'll be alright, he told Barresk. What about her though?

Amalthesk's not wake up, Amalthesk spoke up sadly. Venom-bite-rider-girl doing better, but Amalthesk's still not wake up. In fact, due to the stage Amalthea was at, she was constantly propped on her side to allow the fluid in her lungs to drain. Barret fell back on his cot as a coughing fit overcame him, but it soon passed.

Barresk's awake! the Blue announced to the nearest healer. He was awake and he was aware. The fever was gone. He was recovering. But Amalthea was still out cold, with a dangerous fever. Amalthesk padded over to Barresk and nuzzled him, looking for comfort only he could give. Barret reached up and ran his hand down the Green's neck.

I'm sure she'll be fine, he told he silently. She's strong. She'll recover. It's just going to take a little longer.


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RhiaBlack
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 12:02 PM
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V'ael had finally gotten word that Vessa had fallen gravely ill. The Blackrider was conflicted; as of yet, he had gotten a fever, and a small cough, but it had largely not manifested into anything worse. He blamed To'rua, in some expanse; the man who was, unfortunately, much sicker than V'ael had gotten, in the Infirmary with Sora, who the former Holdless knew had been substantially worse-off when he'd seen To take them down there yesterday.

Beavaeth was doing her best to be calm, despite how panicked V'ael knew she had to be. He imagined even with their current set-up on matters, Baelyrth would have been equally upset if V'ael had been any more ill than he had. The Blackrider suffered his own illness in silence, but the sinewy, skeletal Black that called him His, had kept a very, very close eye on him.

It was because of that potential illness, that Vu hadn't gone to her. The last thing, he reasoned, that made sense was to venture from the proverbial frying pan into the fire, and be thrust into a massive group of Typhoid Maries and left to suffer the sickness and potential death because he'd gone to help.

But his conscience - what little he had in any measure - refused to let him leave her to die, potentially, alone.

And so, Baelyrth waited with his all-present patience while His packed a knapsack with supplies he would need. Mint in copious amounts, some lavender, a mortar and pestle, a bucket, a flint stone to spark a flame. A blanket and a sheet. His knife was slipped into his belt, the bigger machete hooked into it on the other side, and he scaled his Black. A quick relay of location from another dragon as far as where they were going, and they blinked between.

Vu glided with his Black in a circled spiral down towards the camp, once he'd ventured to the shoreline and undertaken a small bit of construction, as it were. Baelyrth's mindvoice reached out towards Vessk quietly, the Blackrider that sat him sliding off his serpentine neck and the dragon watching as V'ael strolled purposefully towards the healer tent.

Vessk. Mine and I come for you and Yours. Mine has been ill, too, that is why it has taken us so long.

The attempt to stop him was weak at best; Vessk knew him, and V'ael wasn't taking no for an answer. He had no idea she was getting better. All that mattered to him, was that she was ill, and nothing they had done seemed to be helping her. And so, because of that, it was his turn. Even for a Holdless, he wasn't entirely incompetent; there were hardly any healers in the wildlands, and thus, most Holdless camps had manifested their own ways of dealing with sickness.

After a considerable 'discussion' with a sizable Healer and some others, V'ael made it clear that not only was Vessa his weyrmate, but that he wasn't going to steal her away permanently. In his opinion, keeping her sequestered in a tent with so many sick people was doing her no good. He hoisted her up in his arms, curling her against his chest, and carried her out into the world beyond once he'd put Vessk's goggles on her. It was towards the tail end of the afternoon, by the time he'd finished doing what needed to be done.

When he arrived at the shoreline with her, she was stripped down completely clothesless, and V'ael removed his own shirt, socks, and boots, walking with her out into the small eddy of a lagoon sheltered from the waves by the rock wall that jutted out into the sea. There, protected from the currents and such, he settled her with him in the chilled water, careful to keep her head above it as he washed her off of the sweat, salve, and otherwise she'd garnered over the course of her illness. Her hair was washed out, and he was careful never to take her too far out where Vessk couldn't stay near.

Once he was satisfied she was clean, he brought her back to shore.

V'ael had cut posts from the treeline, and fashioned something of a table above the sand, a platform of sorts that she could be laid upon. Lined with the sheet to keep the splinters out of her skin and yet still allow air through the gaps in the posts and up against her body, he sparked a fire with dead wood and the flint, prodding it and stoking it until the flames were substantial enough that he could boil fresh water in the bucket he'd brought, away from where he'd laid her. Baelyrth retrieved a bucket of oil from the Weyr, and hunted a herdbeast from the same location, bringing it back so that Vessk could eat while His tended to Hers.

The former Holdless said nothing while he worked; so focused was he on what he could only hope would help her recover in a shorter time. The Weyr needed her. In some expanse, though he'd never admit it, he needed her. The sun warmed his frame, the thick air somewhat less, this close to the water. He set the bucket on the fire, and waited for it to begin boiling; while it got to that point, he crushed the mint and lavender in the mortar and pestle, grinding it so that the oils therein were released in copious amount. As soon as he'd freshly ground them down, they were dumped into the boiling water.

Putting the extra four posts around her platform, some twelve inches clearance above her, he pushed them into the sand and then draped the blanket above as a canopy, tying the corners down with twine. The sides draped over, fashioning something of a box above and around her. From the fire, he pulled the bucket off the flames with a cloth wrapped around the handle to protect his hands from burns, and settled the steaming bucket beneath the platform, under her chest. The steam from within possessed the oils from the mint and lavender, and V'ael settled beside the platform - about thigh-height to him - and smeared her back with more crushed herbs, then brushed some of the oil used on dragons and whers over her back to mix with them.

He then settled into rubbing from the small of her back upwards, to push the muscles and skin north and put pressure on her ribs and lungs, hopefully to push the fluids up and out of her. It encouraged her to cough them out, V'ael placing a small tray made from clay that had been brought along for such a purpose. He could then take it when it was full, and rinse it out, returning it to her for her to refill as she needed.

"I am here," he spoke quietly. "You will not leave me again. I do not care for what reason. If you are to suffer, you will suffer with me. Not alone. Not in some strange land where I know nothing of how you are." He continued running hard-skinned hands up her back, from the top of her backside, all the way up to the nape of her neck, as the steam wafted up through the gaps in the posts, through the sheet, and filled the area he'd made to capture and hold it in. As the water cooled, V'ael put it back over the fire to set it boiling again, crushed more herbs to add to it, and replaced it beneath her platform.

"Usually we did this in the wildlands within a cavern, or a dug-out portion of earth. Or a tent made from hides. It works much better, but I am doing the best I can, with what is available, and how much time I have."

Once he'd rubbed along her back for nearly two candlemarks, and the sun had begun to sink towards the horizon, he left Vessa to breathe in the steam and settle in for a rest. The Blackrider then turned his attention to her wher, taking Vessk into the surf to rub her down with sand and bathe her, and once he'd returned her to shore, sat in the sand beside Vessa's platform, keeping the flames going, and then using the bucket of oil to tend to her wher's hide.

After the Green had been oiled, V'ael was back to rubbing Vessa's back, turning her on her side momentarily to smear some of the oil-mix along her chest, her chin, and under her nose. It smelled strongly of both the mint and the lavender, but it was for a purpose.

"Breathe. No talking. Just breathe, rest, and cough up what is in your lungs. We will have plenty of time to speak when you are well."

His voice was hard, stern, but there was a softness in the way he touched her - the fact he'd come to help - that was undeniable.

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Ruin
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 01:02 PM
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Rivath must have, over the turns, picked up on what it was like to be her Ulian. She only knew that Earth needed her, and she was there whenever she was able. Which, eventually, became nearly always. Others had stepped in to between now that Ulian was truly ill, and as it had become obvious to her, the Healers, and anyone really that they had become distracted--if not distraught--by W'ryn's injuries. From that moment on, while Ulian may have had other duties, Rivath had none. So she stayed close with the Blue, in mind at least; aware of his need to maintain some distance lest he sweep her away in his passing.

i heard the mountain call to me the little White whispered. Her head had tilted backwards until she was rubbing the crown of her thinly-covered skull on his shoulder, though her eyes seemed unfocused as if remembering something from a bygone age. Or seeing something far into the future. all dark no light only the sputtering of two crimson globes shadows on shadows and a silky scaled hiss it would have been too much for them to be so vulnerable and then that i had to protect them. You. Her neck spun in a circle until it was upright and she peered up at Earth, a lucidity coalescing into the facets of those eyes. i would always come if you called as if that answered everything.

Ulian tried to keep the joy at seeing W'ryn's eyes--as horrifying as they looked--at bay. This was not a time for celebration of any kind. But...to be able to say hello, even if it followed shortly by goodbye, was better than watching a shell waste away and never they know they'd been at least safe. The Healer strove to keep the Rider on the cot, but agony must have done that for them because the struggle to sit up was stopped. There was no way it did not hurt, but W'ryn was brave; as they had told them. "You are lucky," and they were sick, and the other probably would be as well soon enough. There were not enough words in the world for what they truly wanted to say, and not enough time.

And far too much fellis.

"I'll stay," they promised, sighing softly when the Rider slipped away again and sitting, shaking from the release of pent up anxiety as it washed away. It would be hard, the rest of it, but not harder than wondering if W'yrn would have ever woken again. Sometimes, Ulian knew, the brain could be damage and the waking never happened. Or if it did, there would be no sense or reason to the words. Their pupils, while bloodshot, had looked fine, but health was a fickle thing. The mind was a fickle thing. Ulian knew that best of all.

And then it got harder. It terrified the Mindhealer to help, even though the training never truly faded. Horrified them to think they might do something wrong, make something worse. They followed O'men's instructions as if only an Apprentice. Without question, and with full trust. They were complicit in the Healing exercise, but did their best to stay removed from it, objective. Impersonal. How did O'men and Da'on manage? And Ulian had only had a two sevendays to wrap themselves up into an emotional knot.

They finished. Healing went on. Ulian maintained records, helped wrap the dead, helped hand out supplies, but always returned. Tried to be there for any moment where Rivath touched on them to let them know that W'ryn was stirring even slightly toward the surface. O'men joined them on such an occasion to discuss the required surgery, and something else...something that cause that sharp pain of...what? Within their heart. Talk to them? About something so important? Ulian answered, in an attempt to let W'ryn know that certainly their opinion did not matter in such a personal case, but the words stumbled into an indecipherable jumble of consonants that faded away as a shamed blush further tinged their feverish cheeks.


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Tobes
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 04:45 PM
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Earth did not answer. Only canted his head down and laid it alongside the little White's, his beak pressed lightly against her jawline, his emotions radiating out almost as loudly as his words would. Acknowledgment and gratitude for all that she had done and offered to do, his grief at knowing nothing would be easy for so long and that there were no guarantees. Fear for her even, for he knew that the Mindhealer was ill and all that that might mean. A dragon's existence was largely lived in the present, but now there was no other choice. He was no longer afraid of her pulling away, and so allowed himself to fully be from moment to moment, letting her hold all that he felt and wordlessly offering the same.

When W'ryn showed signs of interior stirring she seemed to know nearly as soon as he did. In time he even reached out to Ulian himself--not a necessity, for Rivath always alerted them, but his rider's trust in the other bled over. he could feel W'ryn's pleasure at knowing that Ulian was included in that bond, even during the times they did not fully wake. Words were never necessary. Just a brush of his mind, likely so different from the feather lightness that was Rivath, applied delicately so he would not startle them.

Sometimes it was almost a false alarm and there would be no more than a flicker of eyelids to show for it. Most of the time there would at least be a response to Ulian's touch, though sometimes it was as little as a sigh and a flutter of fingers against theirs. And sometimes it was wakefulness, always accompanied by a smile to recognize the Mindhealer at their side, to talk even for a minute. Mostly they wanted to know how Ulian was--how their body felt, had they been resting, had someone made them eat. Always they reached for at least their hand to hold. It had taken some experimenting but W'ryn had eventually found that their left arm was capable of limited movement without an immediate backlash of hurt. The bite wound was at least less fussy than broken bones and could seek out physical contact, so long as their bodies were close.

O'men's visit was the first that they showed much desire to focus on their own body, and even that was guarded at best. It was one of their more lucid times, the Healer having hit upon a sweet spot somewhere between where fellis dulled the mind and pain was overwhelming. They let him give his full speech, jaw clenched in thought or worry as he described, in detail, exactly what would be necessary. What the stakes were. The peculiar jungle creature was curled on their belly at that moment--one of the few places it had found where it could be without eliciting a reprimand--and W'ryn stared at it rather than have to look at either of them. Ulian's interjection, unintelligible but understood, was met with a small squeeze of W'ryn's fingers around their wrist. When all was said the Bluerider finally looked up, forcing a smile at O'men.

"Later. There's so many people need Healers more. It can wait, en't gonna kill me." So much left unsaid. The fear of being cut upon. The fear of more hurt when their body was already untolerable to live inside. The knowing that there was no point in wasting his time if they were not going to live long enough to bother with walking ever again. And then the fear that they might, and that this would be their life, always.

W'ryn waited for him to leave before seeming to let out the breath they had been holding. Unconsciously they trailed their hand along Ulian's, trying to note its shape and texture, trying to memorize it even with their eyes closed. They had enough strength to be awake longer this time and to talk more. They would not waste the opportunity on anyone else.

"Been easier t'not think've 'when.' Just 'if.'" They let out another breath, opening their eyes to find Ulian's face. Tried not to think about how it must look from the other side, with their bloodshot eyes and the bruises starting to drain green-purple around. It was a ghoulish appearance, and if Ulian had felt anything based on boyish good looks alone, there was little room left for it in the near future.

"Don't understand how I can be scared of livin' long enough to worry about havin' to try'n heal all this and scared of not makin' it that far all at once. But I have been. Scared've both." They reached up with their better hand and cupped it to Ulian's cheek. Maybe it was partly the delirium, but W'ryn figured it was mostly everything getting shoved into perspective, to make them so bold. What did any of it matter? The worst that could happen was they wouldn't answer, and that was so near to how things already were.

"Will you... tell me what you're feelin'? I don't know how t'say it Ulian, but I know what's comin' next, I hear the others next door and half of 'em ravin' aloud and I dunno how many dead, and. I don't want t'go there without knowin' you... didn't have to go there first, and no one ever listened to what you could've said. I don't want to go there again and not know." The last said quietly, almost as shamed as Ulian had been earlier. Their teeth were chattering a little with the effort of focusing on words and not on their own hurting. A not-so-distant corner of their mind was already desperate for more fellis to numb the pain so they could just focus better on what was more important. It was such a fine line to walk.

"I don't know how many chances I get t'listen to you. Maybe not more'n this. I don't know. Please."

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summerrain
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 05:24 PM
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Xena was sequestered away in a new healer's tent made away from the area full of people sick with this mysterious plague, her torso bare save her underclothes and the bandages that were being wrapped around her injuries, which had been slathered in first one thing to stop the wounds from getting infected, and then a second thing to help them heal. The argument between the handler and her partner was easy for anyone nearby to hear, and if the wind was going the right direction it could be taken all the way across the camp.

"Your constant complaining is what drew that feline's attention in the first place!" Xena said, not for the first time. "If you had kept your mouth shut, it might never have noticed us. OR Xesk could've heard it in time to keep this from happening! You sharding deadglow!"

"Deadglow? You're the one who got turned into a scratching post," Amaura responded. "Besides, who would want to go into that jungle again after this sickness, anyway?"

"You volunteered to explore that jungle, so either see it through like the Rider you are, or run home like a coward!" Xena challenged. "If you aren't Rider enough to follow through with what you said you would do, then we don't need you here!"

"Wha-hey! I need to finish your bandages!" a third voice called. A few moments later, Xena threw the tent flap aside and stormed out into the evening light, wearing a new shirt that was purposely too big to give her bandaged wounds along her arms and torso room to breathe. The shirt was fresh, of course, as her bloodied and torn shirt hadn't been worth wearing anymore. She'd been told it'd been taken by the healers to turn into rags for bandages, what hadn't been bloodied already of course.

Amaura also left the healer's tent, the flap fluttering in her wake, but she went in a different direction from her partner. It looked like the two of them would need new partners for the remainder of the expedition, assuming that neither of them fell ill in the next few candlemarks.


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Mopsy93
 Posted: Oct 31 2017, 09:17 PM
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Kiveena wasn’t happy with being sick, but at least she wasn’t any worse than she was yesterday and at least she didn’t have a fever though the cough was annoying it wasn’t as bad as some of the other symptoms of the more advanced stages of the illness. She didn’t know whether or not the flower that she came across was the source of this illness she didn’t think that it helped any bit though she probably shouldn’t try to dispose of it until after they found the cause. Plus she couldn’t do much about it right now, since she was still in the infirmary and probably still infectious to those that hadn’t caught the

Koloth was happier about Kiveena’s situation though he still couldn’t do much of anything for now and probably wouldn't be allowed to do much after Kiveena recovered considering just how resilient the illness was is still unknown. Hopefully this would largely solved before Spring, preferably sooner than that but if that failed he didn’t want to wait around for Kiveena to be cleared to go back to Dalibor Weyr when Thread started falling again back in the Western Continent. Her four firelizards still had to keep away from her and the Southern Continent in general which they mostly agreed with.

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Ruin
 Posted: Nov 2 2017, 06:10 PM
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Betahandler





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By Day 7 the fever seemed to be running itself out. Whether that was due to the impending end of the Expedition, or other reasons, was currently beyond those working within the Infirmary.


Day 7
  • Ulian - Dragonrider - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Fraggle - Wherhandler - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • D'arbak - Dragonrider - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Liszna - Dragonrider - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Wort - Wherhandler - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Bagallis - Weyrbrat - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Wornoyt - Weyrbrat - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Vickanda - Weyrbrat - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Paelian - Candidate - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Ho'dandi - Weyrling - Stage Three - Fever, delirium, excessive fluid in lungs
  • Alyce - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • W'ryn - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • C'ian - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Nisha - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • K'tallan - Dragonrider - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Willnaub - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium, lung rattle
  • Sallava - Healercrafter - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Lorine - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Qall - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Tardanndo - Weyrfolk - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Hoornon - Weyrbrat - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
  • Feerga - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Mnorik - Weyrbrat - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Gallan - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • T'tulla - Weyrling - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Wanna - Weyrfolk - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Feldrin - Wherhandler - Stage One - Fever, swelling
  • Serrik - Dragonrider - Stage One - Fever, swelling
Recovering - Infectious
  • Q'ivi - Dragonrider - Post-Stage Three - No fever, excessive cough
  • Didnala - Wherhandler - Post-Stage Two - No fever, rattling cough
  • Yoris - Dragonrider - Post-Stage Two - No fever, rattling cough
Recoved - Non-infectious
  • Vessa - Wherhandler
  • Janora - Dragonrider
  • Mutorin - Wherhandler
  • Barret - Wherhandler
  • Rider - Wherhandler
  • O'men - Dragonrider
  • Da'on - Dragonrider
  • Norla - Wherhandler
  • Ruoban - Wherhandler
  • Kiveena - Dragonrider
Transferred
  • Sebolaren - Wherhandler - Stage Two - Fever, delirium
Deceased
  • Saraion - Dragonrider
  • Foem - Dragonrider
  • Amalthea - Wherhandler
  • Varshim - Healercrafter
  • Toshia - Healercrafter
  • Wellum - Healercrafter
  • Borna - Healercrafter
  • Figban - Healercrafter
  • Noqu - Healercrafter
  • Kyora - Bakercrafter
  • Ghell - Weyrfolk
  • Casser - Healercrafter
  • Obanna - Weyrfolk
  • Mally - Wherhandler
  • Tikgav - Wherhandler
  • Darrian - Candidate
  • Hojyorn - Candidate
  • Parak - Weyrling
  • Hoki - Weyrfolk
  • Preyla - Weyrfolk
  • Annis - Weyrfolk
  • Nishna - Wherhandler
  • Pitorill - Candidate
  • Tz'nik - Weyrling
  • Horoo - Wherhandler
  • Kallnis - Wherhandler
  • Ionaya- Weyrfolk
  • Paislik - Dragonrider
  • Qoori - Weyrfolk
  • Borthna - Candidate
  • Vollo - Candidate
  • Grisda - Weyrling
  • Por'gan - Dragonrider
  • Kelsh - Wherhandler
  • Guyver - Wherhandler


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summerrain
 Posted: Nov 2 2017, 08:41 PM
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Barret was aware enough now to keep hold of her hand, to notice when Amalthea's breathing ceased. His heart began to ache when he realized what had just happened, and it hurt even more when Amalthesk began to keen for her handler. The Green's eyes whirled grey, as did Barresk's. Both the Blue and his Handler knew what it meant for a wher when their handler died. Especially this close to a weyr. They never allowed the wher to go wild.

Barret reached for the Green from where he lay, though she was too far for him to touch. He knew what was coming next, and he didn't want to see it. He didn't want to watch his love's wher get killed just because Amalthea was gone. And Barresk had the same wish.

Neither of them had to worry about it, though. Amalthesk kreened at the loss of her person for another few minutes before turning toward the forest.

Amalthesk not want die by claw of other, she told them softly before running just far enough so she wasn't going to worry about taking anyone else with her, and blinked between instead of letting someone else be responsible for her death. She hadn't wanted Barresk or Barret to have to see that. Instead, she had chosen to leave on her own terms.

Barresk let out a low keening sound when Amalthesk vanished, though he chose to stay beside his Handler. They took comfort in each other at the losses of the ones they had been closest to.


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Tobes
 Posted: Nov 3 2017, 09:18 AM
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(OOC: Time fluid for before recovery.)

The situation had grown tense in the area of the Infirmary that housed Yoris and his respective bonded. Discussions had likely occurred behind closed doors. Contingency plans made. Yoris was unaware of any of it. Lost to fever, delirium, and the crushing attack of a thirty-foot serpent, the Handler hovered ever closer to the knife’s edge between life and death. And with him, rage incarnate, was the Red Wher.

She had not left his side since the attack in the jungle. It did not matter what any of them might have said, whether Queen or Fighter or Wher or Dragon. Faranth herself could have descended and ordered Yorisk to move and she would have said, Bite me.. Never mind that space was at a premium in the Infirmary these days. Never mind that any Healer with half a brain was probably less likely to administer treatment to Hers, what with the threat of seven feet of well-muscled death curled around his head. Not that treatment meant much at this point. She had deigned—with much snarling and gnashing of teeth—to let them treat the wounds they could from the attack. Nothing so bad as the Bluerider had sustained, and there was not much to be done for the ribs, but she had allowed them to splint the few broken extremities.

But there was nothing to be done for the fever that gripped him now. Deathly pale by nature, Yoris was flushed to a crimson that spoke to the great heat burning away beneath the skin’s surface. He had less energy than many of the others, and did not cry out or toss in his feverish dreams. Much of what he said was to Yorisk alone, for he had grown accustomed to talking in his head far more often than he did aloud. Every so often she would let out a pained moan, or a growl, or just shout her rage into the minds of those unlucky enough to be nearby.

Yorisk not lose Yoris. Not lose like Carrosk. She whispered it over and over to him, her eyes no longer a whorling mass of colors but a single, matte shade of red. The Wher had known so much hurt in her admittedly short life. Not every wher had an egg-twin to lose. It was not fair and she would balance the scales if need be. Her eyes flickered to the waiting guards. They had not announced themselves as such, but Yorisk was not stupid. She called to them even as her Handler lay prone, his bedsheets soaked with sweat, his eyes rolling back. Called to them and displayed the sharpness of her teeth, the readiness of her muscles.

Yorisk crack useless wher bones to suck marrow. Make waste of all, punish for be useless. Yorisk go wild in jungle, kill all snake, no snake ever bite Handler again. Yorisk be Queen of jungle. Kill everything in jungle. Kill all Handler, all wher, all useless. Yorisk be story to baby wher, no go jungle, no find snake, no die Red Death…


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