Rise of the Dragon Riders {CLOSED}

[tenebria]

Alalëa did not let anything else distract her as she strode down the stables, her gaze narrowed to the one dark stall. She couldn't help but quicken her pace the closer she got, almost running as she reached the door. Her eyes glanced inside and swooped over the area, and worry glittered in her eyes. "Visilva, this is no time to play. Come out immediately, or I swear on my sword I won't let you out for the rest of the day!" she ordered, her voice very firm. But no shadows reacted. Now worried beyond all measure, she spun and began trotting quickly up the path, her eyes glancing from side to side, hoping to see any glimmer in the shadows. Why wasn't she back? She had never stayed out this long... she was too smart for that.

Visilva looked around, craning her neck to search for the familiar stride of her rider, over the increasing bustle around the stables. Not there.... nor near the training grounds... THERE! Her eyes flashed with relief as she saw the figure of the elf heading swiftly up the path, violet eyes darting back and forth. Searching for... her. She winced slightly at the worry she could already detect from the tense shoulders, and with extreme effort, she managed to push a trembling trill from her jaws. The violet eyes snapped over her direction, and almost closed with relief, before snapping with anger born of worry and exasperation. Immediately Alalëa began striding over.

[Chloriosus]

Arrow nodded in agreement at his brother's statement and began scouring through the cupboards with equal vigor. "I bet I will die before you do!", he said between hurried breaths as he accelerated his pace in chaotically throwing things out of the cupboard and coming across a jar with some sticky greenish substance in it. He unduly stuck in his finger and licked it. "Ah, we can use this to pour into our drink!", he rejoiced as he set it down and continued his search.

[tenebria]

Varps red eyes glittered as his jaw turned in a grin that would send shivers down anyone's spine if they had looked at him. It was a sickly grin, one of maniac joy. Maybe now they would both die, and his life would become infinitely easier. The violence had set the camp into an uproar. Roars and screams of anger could be heard shrieking from the dragon cages, flashes of lighting arcing up into the sky, reaching the very clouds and broiling the sky. An furious yell broke through the noise of stomping feet and mumbling guards. A glowering elf stepped through the crowd. One arm was missing, covered with a metal arm that served his purpose well. Scars ran down his face and over his single muscled arm as he strode through the crowds like they were dust beneath him. His icy blue gray eyes were almost piercing through the cages, his purpose clear. Varp let out a muffled shriek and immediately rolled into a ball. He didn't need to watch to know what was about to happen. That... that was the dragon trainer. Many a time had the slavedrivers hands made many scars in his hide. And that was the only creature alive that could stop Morvok. The sounds were telling enough as a roar was suddenly violently turned into a scream of pain, the zapping of electricity violently cutting off, and above it all, the horrible whistling of the dragon scale, talon tipped whip that sliced into the giant dragons hides. Morvoks thundering roar seemed to shake the earth, but the keening whistle of the whip never ceased. Suddenly a dull thud echoed over the ground, and the harsh ear splitting screech of the Skrill Diavolo sounded, quickly followed by hasty offbeat wings. He was taking himself to a safe distance from the enemy he dared not attack. Varp couldn't help himself at this point. Slowly he unrolled his scales, glancing about nervously, but everyones attention was focused on that corridor. Not an eye was turned his direction. He let out a breath of relief, happening to glance towards the earth, then froze again. A giant leg of elk was just SITTING right there. The dragon who owned it, a gigantuan fiery beast, was totally occupied in watching, or rather listening, to the spectacle of Morvok facing a fearless enemy. Slowly Varp slinked forwards, no longer even caring about the fight. It would turn out the way all of these did when that malevolent elf arrived. Now the only thing he could do was make the best of the distraction. Another inch, and the leg was right in front of his snout. With a swift chomp he grabbed the meat in his jaws and fled, even though it was obvious the large dragon had not even noticed his movements. But still he ran until he reached the boundary trees, diving into a shadow and laying down, panting and slyly congratulating himself on his wonderful plan. Just then a single frustrated roar echoed through the trees, followed by a ringing thud, and a pained huff from the dragon. The final blow had been struck. Morvok's steps were heard heavily throughout the compound as he moved away from the food, and back to his cage. He had admitted defeat for now. But only for now. Two pale eyes watched him go, void of emotion.

[wingfeather]

Elexian continued his quick march into the stables, a strange sight stopped him momentarily <<was that dragon carrying shards of metal in her jaws? And why was her gait so awkward ?>> But he noticed Alalëa was already coming towards her and after a moment's hesitation he continued on to where the cages were kept. The feathered dragon could not help but perk up when she saw Elexian and this sudden movement did not go unmarked by the dark haired elf though he pretended not to notice. He threw in the usual allotment of meat, deeming her sudden excitement to see him enough for the food. Perhaps progress was being made. As she ate he reached in and set his hand on her brightly colored neck. She tensed and stopped eating, then slowly she took up another chunk in her skinny jaws and fell to again though she watched the elf closely making sure that nothing else uncomfortable and out of the ordinary was going to happen. Elexian could hardly contain the utter joy he was feeling at that moment and slowly ever so gently began stroking the blue feathers. At this the dragon shied though she did not drop away from the touch.

[tenebria]

Dálkr hefted the blades in his large hand, glancing down at them. The worst case scenario he could think of, was neither the rider who wielded the blades, nor their dragon would return. And that was truly what was causing his mind to race. True it could be a freak accident, a wound from a wild dragon, or even from another wild creature, but the thought that jumped to his mind with increasing frequency, was an attack. True it was only one rider, but it had been a patrol, near the most difficult terrain, the one they kept their eyes on the most. And so, to him, it made sense. He frowned deeply. If that was so, he shouldn't be wasting time standing about with a half strangled dragon. The Commander needed to know what could be going on.

Kivlaa shifted her claws uncertainly, feeling helpless. Her rider was standing with his eyes fixated on the blades, his mind obviously deeply lost in thought, and none pleasant from the tilted of his brows and tense shoulders. The giant shadow dragon was scanning the crowds with a mixture of hopefulness and wariness. At that moment, she saw Visilva raise her head more, her wings flexing slightly, and then a sharp trill came from her throat. She had spotted her rider. Relief flooded the silver dragon, and she soon caught sight of a tall brown haired elf almost running towards them, a broil of anger and relief and questioning mixing in her violet eyes. Maybe now they could get some answers!

[tenebria]

Visilva tensed up at the expression on her riders face, but truly she was too relieved to have some competent person nearby to feel too worried. She had every single good excuse for having been out there, without her who knew if anyone would get the news she was bringing. She stayed silent as she watched the girl march up to her, eyes a storm of emotions. "VISILVA don't you DARE do that again!" Alalëa said, voice sharp, then seemed to notice the other two who had both turned their attention to her. "Pardon Dálkr, sir" she said hastily, then frowned, noticing what he was holding in his hands. Were those Firaskos? The sight of the hilts confirmed her suspicion. Before she could speak, the dark elf motioned to the blades. "You recognize these?" he stated, in a tone that was more factual than questioning. She nodded anyway, stepping towards him. "Indeed I do, they belong to a rider by the name of Firasko" she affirmed cautiously. He frowned and nodded "I feared so" he said, then looked over at Visilva who had wisely stayed silent so far. "She brought them back, seems to have trouble with her vocals. Can you perhaps make any sense of her sounds or motions?" he queried. Alalëa looked at the swords, then back to Visilva, worry clouding her anger. "What happened out there?" She murmured to her dragon as she moved towards her, running her hands over her scales swiftly. Visilva gave a sigh of relief, then prepared to attempt to make any sort of explaining sounds. Getting out half a growl, which cracked, she saw concern once again fly over her rider's face. "Somethings definitely off with her vocals, you're right." She said over her shoulder as she motioned for Visilva to open her jaws, which she did with a bit of trouble, her jaws now used to clenching themselves hard after that long flight. "I don't see anything necessarily" her rider said after a moment. Visilva gave a sigh in the back of her throat, shifting her tongue slightly,or rather trying to, and Alalëa frowned, taking a step back. "How did she arrive with the blades?" She queried. "One in her mouth, the other in her talons" Dálkr spoke up swiftly. "Hmm one in your mouth" she murmured again, glancing at the shadow dragon before moving to the blades and picking one up. SHe examined it closely, then cautiously sniffed the blade. Her eyes widened. Of course. Firaskos dragon was crimson. She knew what his poison smelled like, a specific naturally chemically scent, which she now smelled on this blade. "I believe she's swallowed some poison from another dragon, these blades riders dragon" she said, turning back to Visilva who gave a relieved nod of her head. "What happened to them?" Alalëa asked while she turned and hailed one of the stableboys watching from the corner. "Go find the healer, tell him I need any sort of anti venom or remedy for numbness in a dragon" She ordered, then turned back to her dragon. Visilva frowned. She couldn't explain. Unfortunately. Instead she leaned forward and nipped at the girls braid, tugging her slightly towards her and lowering a sore wing. Alalëa stumbled slightly in surprise, then realized what she was doing. "I believe she wants me to fly with her, to show me" she said, glancing back to her superior. The dark elf was standing by his own dragon, both katanas in his hands still. He had been watching carefully. "We must know where and into what we are flying before we go" he said warningly, then added after a moment of thought "She can still nod and respond to your queries, could we not pose questions to find answers this way?" he suggested. Swiftly the girl nodded "Of course, but I am not sure what exactly to ask" she said with a worried glance at her dragon. Dálkr paused, then directed a question to Visilva. "Did something attack them?" he asked. Visilva gave him her attention and swiftly nodded, a sharp movement. He frowned "A wild beast?" She shook her head. "Other... dragons?" he asked. Visilva paused, then shook herself, unsure how to answer. It wasn't just dragons, it was both dragons and riders. Somehow, the dark elf seemed to almost sense her thoughts. "Captive dragons?" he asked in a quiet yet alert tone. She gave a violent nod, and all resemblance of calm fled from the elf's face. His eyes snapped golden. "They've come" he growled, his hand fisting as he rested it on Kivlaa. She trilled Deep in her throat, wings unfurling, sensing his tenseness. "No time for more queries, and no time to speak with the Commander. If this is true, we must scout out the issue. I shall assemble a band to join us" he said abruptly, then paused "I would not ask your dragon to fly after such an evidently exhausting journey, save she is the only one who knows anything at this moment" he said. Alalëa had listened to this fire of questions and answers, dread and adrenaline simultaneously rising in her veins. She gave a sharp nod "I understand, it is necessary. The healer will have something to help her I am certain" she said. The superior elf gave a slight nod "Gather what you need, have your dragon cared for, but return to this spot in 10 minutes time. We must make all haste" he said firmly, turning to Kivlaa "Gather what we need" he said abruptly before turning and striding into the crowds in search of his most capable riders. Kivlaa gave a shrill call and thrust herself into the air, dust billowing on the ground as she spiraled upwards, heading towards her tower, and their weapons.

[wingfeather]

Spruce had, by this time, awakened and was stretching his stubby limbs as best he could. ''G' mornin' Spruce,'' Dagor said in his usual loud voice as he tidied his forge in preparation for the days labour, he would go and take Spruce out to the stables for his feeding then go and get something from the kitchens for himself just after he was done sweeping up the remaining shards of metal from the sone floor. The forge fire had already died down and was now only giving off a faint glow and a few threads of heat which drowned out the morning drafts. The dwarf stuck his hammer in his thick braided leather belt, for he hardly ever went anywhere without it, and patted Spruce's heavy plated scales, ''alright old lad, lets go see if we cant find ourselves some food.''

[wingfeather]

Tanarad snuck into the kitchen, he briefly noticed the two twins talking to each other as if the world were crashing about their ears and and the sun had decided not to rise that day. They in fact looked to dejected and terrified that he briefly considered actually going up and inquiring about what their troubles were, but the idea was just as dispelled after he had thought up a few excuses, what could he do to help them? The cooks were about and many of them were advancing at the twins with rolling pins and oven paddles in hand, so the attention was at the time drawn away from the silent cloaked figure who had quietly entered their domaine. Suddenly a girl stepped in front of him with her hands on her hips, ''what do you think you are doing,'' she asked severly though there was a decided twinkle in her eyes. Tanarad was surprised out of words. She laughed and looked behind her shoulder, ''well you haven't been spotted yet, I suggest you get out before you are,'' she warned, she turned around, ''but, here,'' she turned back and gave him a hunk of bread and a cut of cheese.'' Tanarad got out as fast as he could. He ate as he walked down the corridors, that could have been worse, he thought. 

[tenebria]

A stableboy hurried through the crowded Nest, his nerves icy at the thought that Alalea, the rider who usually only requested Krolo, had given him such an important command. Fetch the healer, fetch the healer, fetch the healer... her voice played like a drum in his head as his eyes flashed about. Telityn was not the easiest to find, but the best place to at least start was most likely the healers own hut. And so the stableboys steps moved swiftly in that direction.

Alalëa didn't bother to watch the dark elf leave, turning immediately to Visilva. "I want to stay by you, but I have to go and gather supplies" she said quietly. Visilva gave a small nod, letting a rumble build in her chest, understanding. And she, she would rest and wait for the healer. And guard the blades she had fought so hard to keep. Gently she picked them up from the ground and put them at her claws before laying down with a sigh. Her rider paused, smiling gently and rubbing a hand over her scales. "Rest while you can" she said, an apologetic and worried look in her eyes before she spun and hurried off. Visilva rumbled after her, then closed her eyes. Oh how tired she was.

Alalëa strode down the path, her steps sure and focused as she headed back to her bunk. Already in her head the list of necessary items was building swiftly. She didn't have long, especially as she needed to be there when the healer arrived.

[tenebria]

Dálkr moved over the path with purpose clear on his face. No one dared step in his path as he brushed by them, knowing all too well what would happen if they did. Unfortunately for the elf himself, although he didn't show it, his mind was racing. He knew who he needed, but his resources were uncommonly limited. At least this first stop would be easy, for surely the swordmaker would be nowhere else but his forge. His golden eyes shifted slightly as he noticed the flow of movement, it puzzling his mind for a moment before time registered. Of course. It was morning, therefore most were going to the mess hall. With an abrupt motion he changed course, almost bulldozing a group of young riders who scattered out of his way like terrified sparrows. His brows lowered even more at that, shoulders tensing. No one was near ready enough for what might be thrown at them. At he blamed himself mostly. They had lived in a false sense of security for far too long.

[wingfeather]

Telityn saw the stable boy hurrying towards him as he was sitting out in the small herb garden at the front of his house with Zasder near by pretending to help pull weeds, he was actually just bruising the herb leaves because he liked some of their scent. Telityn stood and asked the boy what was wrong, he listened carefully as the stableboy explained Vasilva's wounds then wordlessly turned and began collecting an assortment of plants and objects that he thought might be needed and placing them into his well worn leather sack, he never fully trusted the explanations of children or teenagers, they either blew things out of proportion or completely understated the entire crisis, but as the dragon was apparently unable to come to him it was probably something a bit more serious than the poisonous tongued beast he had to extract a fish bone from earlier. After carefully placing a wad of bandages in his and arranging everything to his liking he bade the lad take him to where the dragon was.

[tenebria]

Alalëa moved about the cot with measured movements, trying to keep herself calm and levelheaded so she could grab everything she'd need. Extra weapons were always a must, she thought to herself as she checked the condition of her two shorter daggers before sheathing one into her boot, and the placing the other in it's leather sheath and into her saddlebag. Water and some dried foods followed, just in case. Being prepared was always better than going with less. Finally having gathered all she could remember, she stepped outside, slinging the bag over her shoulder and hurrying towards the stables. A firm call brought the sturdy stableboy, Krolo, running to her. "Swiftly, fetch Visilva's saddle and follow me, we must make all haste" she said, her eyes already moving to the path that would lead her back to her dragon. Krolo gave a swift bow, then hurried off, enlisting two other stableboys to assist him in maneuvering the saddle from it's perch. Once he had it on his shoulders, he joined Alalëa once more. She looked the saddle over swiftly, then gave a nod and moved up the path with hurried strides, which Krolo had more than a hard time keeping up with.

[tenebria]

Dálkr growled to himself in mounting annoyance as the bustle grew the closer he got to the mess hall. Enough with this humming peaceful morning he thought, pushing a hapless rider over with a strong thrust of his arm. A few more fellows suffered the same fate, until the captain was noticed, and a way was swiftly made before him. He strode up the path, his gaze set, and yet his vision taking in all around him, searching for any familiar signs of the two he was seeking. Finally he entered the darkness of the building, and let his gaze wander over the tables and benches. But still no sight of the two. His brows lowered. There really had to be a better way of summoning his able bodied and minded riders when he needed them swiftly. Turning abruptly, he skirted the crowd and moved down the dark cooriders, intending to emerge at a further entrance and head to the stables. No sooner had he turned the first corner, when he caught sight of a dark figure striding down the cooridors, and a welcome one at that. "Tanarad!" his heavy voice boomed through the cooridor.

[tenebria]

Visilva huffed in impatience as she shifted her wings, her piercing gaze causing many to glance at her uncomfortably, then look away and hurry onwards to their destination. Of all the dragons for this to happen to, why her? She'd been at the nest for YEARS and never once had she become paralyzed by another's poison! At least not from ingesting it. Finally she heard some light footsteps, and a few moments later caught sight of the stableboy trotting through along the path, the healer at his heels. She rose her head and let out a slightly choked rumble of annoyance, her gaze hardening from her bored expression to one of angry iimpatience. She only hoped this healer could figure out what was wrong with her fast, or else she'd be in just another pickle trying to figure out how to relay her impediment once again.

[wingfeather]

Tanarad stopped mid-stride when he heard his name summoned so loudly through the hall, he contemplated for a moment wether he should continue walking with Rygar and pretend he hadn't heard anything and fly FAR away. He probably would have actually done it had he not heard Rygar warn him suddenly with a growl. Tanarad turned around and instinctively snapped to attention, his mind raced through all the things that could have happened if he had gone, hr stopped suddenly, the thoughts were too much to bear. ''Yes, sir,'' he said clearly though a little muted.