This log continues from A Sudden Storm, and runs parallel to Safe in the Caverns.
Xanadu Weyr - Hatching Sands
The large circular "stage" is surrounded on one half by a towering wall, thin slit windows high overhead letting in some light without truly endangering the objects on the sands, though plenty of lights are spaced at human-level all the way around. The other half is ringed by the dark blue seats of the observation level, rising upwards towards the back wall. The circle itself is filled with a mix of red and white sands, deep enough to cover the largest of dragon eggs with ease. To one side, a small door is visible, hidden away behind a platform meant to provide a place for the clutch parent's lifemates to stand during the on goings.
KRRRRiiiiiiiSSSSSHKABOOM!!!! A violent concussion rocks the Sands at the same time a vivid flash of light glares through the high windows of the Hatching Arena as the rumble spreads off to the distance. The lights simultaneously are extinguished, plunging the Sands in darkness. The smell of burned wiring pervades the air. The sands begin to cool imperceptibly, but steadily.
Seryth bespeaks both Thea and Kilauaeth with the crackle of lightning in her mindvoice, urgent in appeal, « I need you here, Thea.» Then to both, «Something is wrong! A loud noise and there is a fire, I think. But the Sands are less warm. A little. And it is dark in here. »
Thea enters the Sands at a run, but skids to a stop almost immediately, not wanting to run in the darkness and damage the eggs. Footsteps behind her have her throwing both arms wide to hopefully catch whoever it is that's followed. "Careful!" She's got her attention on Seryth, who is crouched in front of the eggs, her yellow-whirling eyes the only light in here.
Niva is only a few moments behind Thea, the Senior Weyrwoman pausing at the threshhold, blind as can be as even the dim lights that ring the Arena at night have been extinguished. The normal hum of the generators at work is absent. Catching Thea's arm she slowly pushes it downwards, offering perhaps a reassuring squeeze, before she takes a deep breath, turning to the bit of light that streams infront outside, hoping Sigam followed.
Oh, Sigam followed, but he doesn't look happy about it. Or maybe that's just because it's dark on the Sands, and dark simply cannot equal good, and the smell doesn't help. "Thea?" He proceeds cautiously along behind Niva, squinting into the dimly-lit sands beyond. "Do you smell something?," the Dragonhealer asks quietly, keeping well back from the goldriders even as his nose works, oblivious to the fire Seryth has warned the others about.
Thea's head turns as Niva's hand touches her arm, palpable relief in the single word she speaks, "Weyrwoman." She seems a little dazed, but likely being in mindtouch with Seryth is the cause of it. "S-she's very upset." And indeed there is a growling interspersed with short barks of distress coming from the queen as her tail lashes back on forth. The junior turns back to the Sands half-closes her eyes, murmuring incoherent reassurances to the gold. Sigam's voice has her attention, but her face remains towards the sands. There's fear in her voice as she breathes, "Sigam? The eggs?" Seryth's shock is beginning to affect her, manifested in trembling, but otherwise she is fine.
The mind touch of the Senior gold is light on Seryth's mind, trying to offer a steady touch, even as Niva nods to Thea, hand patting again before Sigam appears. "Fire.. The generator is out.. The sands are cooling.." Niva says in a hushed tone, before she's reaching to shake Sigam's arm. "The Annex is on its own backup.. Check if its up.." She says in a rush, even as she turns back to the dark sands and the eggs hidden there.
It's probably too dark to see, but Sigam can feel his face draining of what little blood the gash on his temple has left him. "Oh, shards," he says weakly, but his eyes are also distant, brain skipping and clicking gears before Niva even says anything. "The incubator. Right, be back in a flash." His mouth opens with a wince, hating himself for that word, but now's not the time for retractions. Off he races, seconds ticking out like moments as he flies for the Annex. Startled Dragonhealers glance up as he darts in, more relieved to spy fake light than he ever has been in his life. Wordlessly, he pushes through the injured and 'healers, digging through cabinets near the thrumming incubator before finding what he was looking for. Moments later he returns to the Sands, breathing ragged, and what looks like a large, padded cloth bag in his arms. "We're good. Let's get moving. I'm not going too far in, but if the two of you pass the eggs down a line, I can pack them." He's already unzipping the huge bag that it looks like all of them will have to carry to get it out.
Messages of do-not-come be damned! Jaesriuth isn't one to obey an order that he finds to be inadequate. And with R'iahn having a man (cough cough cough woman) on the inside of storm prediction, he doesn't seem real surprised. But then, he's R'iahn, and nothing really surprises Riah. "You should know better than to send my Wherry of a dragon the orders t' stay away!" The man shouts from the entrance to the sands, squinting into it. "Dragonhealer! Sigam!" Growl mutter mutter. "Bit shardin' windy outside! Y' hiding in here or doin' something useful?"
Thea steps cautiously towards Seryth across the dark sands after that pat of Niva's and while she speaks to Sigam. Her main concern is her lifemate, but she does register that they've spoken of an incubator and she's relaxing just a bit as she moves towards the gold. Her outstretched hands come into contact with Seryth's muzzle first, for the young queen has extended her neck towards her. Thea takes a moment to comfort and draw strength both before calling towards the others. "I told her we need to check the eggs. She says you may come." Seryth calms, at least somewhat as her barks of distress stop. Her eyes remain yellowed, however and Thea warns, "Come slowly."
The yellow touch of Seryth's eyes serves as a beacon of sorts, and its only after Sigam reappears that she's cautiously guiding him towards the eggs. "Will you ask her to help unbury them, one at a time?" Niva asks after a moment, eyes adjusting to the darkness, only barely making out the curve of the buried shells. "It'll be quicker, and we'll have to go two at a time.." Then, there's the sound of an invader, and Niva is looking towards the edge of the sands, too tired to argue about the man's appearance.
Sigam doesn't have a chance to move closer - his fingers barely close over the bag's handles before an all-too-familiar voice brings forth a rather violent tic in one eye. "Oh, shard it all, R'iahn, what part of 'no one is allowed to enter Xanadu's skies' doesn't your sharding numbskull excuse for a dragon get?" The words are spat, but tiredly, and Sig'll apologize tomorrow. "I hope he buckled his damn wings." Well, maybe not. No more answer seems to be coming for the bluerider now, at any rate, for the Dragonhealer eases onto the cooling sands after the goldriders, cautious. "If the two of you can get an egg in here, that big fat idiot can help me ferry it over to the Annex, yeah?" He's obviously not giving poor Riah an opinion in the matter. "He's a steady hand if not foolhardy dragon."
Thea remains beside Seryth's muzzle, both arms still wrapped around it, at least as far as she can manage to get them. The gold moves her tail restlessly, one wing flickering out to shield her clutch. The newcomer's voice has Thea frowning in concern, but for the moment she is focusing on calming Seryth and keeping her from pushing at the two nearby. She is lifted off the ground a few inches as Seryth raises her head at R'iahn's call. She utters a squeak, "Lower your head unless you want to drop me on the eggs?"
Female voices? Oh, wait — sands. Of course there are female voices. "Sorry," Offered hastily, to whoever's in there as well. "Didn't mean to, er, startle ya." This is muttered darkly, as he tries to discern just who he's interrupted, before R'iahn's quite distracted. "You shardin' know it's just a challenge to /him/!" The man growls at the familiar voice. "Not this time. Still flying. Dunno what he's doing now." Likely something stupid goes unsaid, thankfully. "Aye. Whatever you need." This is said in a slightly more level tone, as he peers into the sands warily. Dropping eggs? Or maybe that wasn't what she said. Hopefully not. Yipes.
With the sands quickly cooling, Niva is wasting no more time to begin to uncover the closest egg after a bow to Seryth, a murmured apology, and she slowly, works her way along the bottom of the shell with no hesitation for whether someone of her station should be doing this. "Watch it, it'll roll a little. Get it into the sling, and I'll start the next one.." Niva murmurs, lifting her gaze at the odd shadow that is Seryth and Thea.
Seryth obliges by lowering her head. Thea's feet are once again on solid ground. Soothingly she murmurs to her, "It's alright, Seryth. We need to get the eggs somewhere warm." She pats the muzzle once, then kneels to help Niva. She cradles the one the Weyrwoman has uncovered, lifting it carefully and walks with it towards where Sigam's voice was. "Are they… they'll be alright?" She asks him as she reaches him. She takes his word for it that R'iahn knows what he's doing, for she doesn't question him on roping in the, unknown to her, Rider.
"Whatever, Riah. Come help me. Move slowly, bow, et cetera." Sigam takes the cue from Niva's shifting form and dips his back towards Seryth before dropping to his knees, spreading the padded bag wide open. The egg rolls as she says - he can hear it rustle the sand - but quick hands gently still it before hauling it carefully back into the fabric. Strapping it tight, the Dragonhealer gets to his feet, stooping to hook both hands through the handles on his side of the sling, waiting for the bluerider to come help. Thea's miniature ride on Seryth's snout sadly goes unnoticed - the man could use a spot of humor right now - but he does glance up towards the vague shape that is the goldrider by voice as his eyes try to accustomate to the lack of light. "Yeah, of course," he says reassuringly, putting a smile into his voice. "We just need to get them back into the heat quick." The last word he angles back towards the entrance, for R'iahn's benefit. Poor bluie.
It's not without hesitation that R'iahn heads onto the sands. He's never been a Weyrlingmaster of any sort, and likely hasn't been on any since his own Impression, what, fifteen turns ago? Muttering vaguely to himself, Riah heads out anyways, taking a moment to bow almost comically. "Ladies." Murmured (okay, it's really growled, but still) quietly, then a respectful salute snapped. "Not an idiot, healer." This is muttered for Sig. "Much as my dragon might make me out to be." Snort. He doesn't comment on the state of the eggs to Thea or Niva — not only does he not know them, he doesn't know the state of the eggs! Probably sane not to make an idiot of himself. "R'iahn, Jaesriuth's." They might have heard his name before, as a wingleader of Telgar's Search and Rescue until months prior, but possibly not. "Quick. Of course." The sling's handles are taken carefully, then slowly starts moving, if Sig is following. Or leading. Whichever.
Once the first egg is carefully settled, Niva's attention is turning to the next one, though her pace is slower as she waits to give the others plenty of time to go and return, letting the sands provide what warmth they can. "Of course they will.." Niva says, reassuring Thea, even as there's a bit of nervousness in her own voice, distracting herself with the task at hand.
Sigam gives a long-suffering sigh, reaching up to clap one hand onto R'iahn's shoulder when the man finally draws close enough. "I know, I'm just sick of know-it-all dragons and riders. Didn't earn this rank just to be scoffed at." Whiny tiredness leaks into the 'healer's voice, but he takes his side of the bag and walks without further complaint. Again, questioning glances are ignored when Sigam, and this time Riah, enter the Annex, but the second the Dragonhealers realize there's an egg in that sack, they are quick to help out. Sig elbows through them until he finds the two seniormost people on duty at the time and extends his handles towards one of them. "Stay here - we're not going to clog Seryth with folks on the sands - but be ready at the door and we'll trade off the eggs for empty bags. And by Faranth's eggs, if you break them, you'll have more than an angry gold dragon to worry about." R'iahn is nodded to, a new bag is grabbed, and Sigam is back on the sands in no time, kneeling near to Niva. "Ready."
Thea lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding at Niva and Sigam's reassurances. "Xanadu's duties", she replies in an automatic fashion to R'iahn as she steps carefully back towards Seryth. She's got her mind on other things, really. Seryth's wing has slowly folded, settling along her back, but she shifts uneasily, craning her neck to watch the progress of her egg with a croon of protest. Thea pauses beside her head, lifting a hand to comfort her.
R'iahn snorts vaguely at Sigam, wagging his head. Maybe supposed to be a replacement for a shrug, but his shoulders and, in fact, the limbs connected to them, are rather busy at the moment. "Comes with th' territory. Everybody's got an opinion, and most of them're infants who can't tell their shardin' nose from their toes." The bluerider is muttering darkly as he ambles along carefully, trying to toss a reassuring smile at Thea and Niva. "We'll be right back." Isn't exactly necessary, but hey. They are indeed back quickly, with Riah smirking a little at the dragonhealer, then turning a more solemn expression on the goldriders. "They seem to be handling it well in the annex." He reports, kneeling as well with his side of the bag. "Sigam threatened to skin them alive." Smiiile!
Niva sputters a little bit as R'iahn reports Sigam's threat with nothing but glee, the Weyrwoman's hands pausing for a moment, before the second egg is freed and given a gentle roll, leaving Thea to watch her lifemate's egg be packed up for its short journey. The smell of smoke still lingers, though in the darkness, no sign of a fire can be seen within the confines of the Arena.
As the pair return, Thea speaks, "Skin them-" She's snorting softly at that before muttering, "Too bad you don't more than one of those bags, Sigam. We could have done this much more quickly." She's assuming, since he's moving the eggs one at a time, that he only has the one. She's quiet other than that, focusing on keeping Seryth still, rubbing her muzzle with both hands. Seryth for her part is shifting from foot to foot, not liking the fact that her eggs are being carted off to who-knows-where, but perhaps also something else. "Seryth says there's a big mess outside and many are hurt."
Sigam looks sheepish under all that shadow, and is probably glaring at Riah for all the bluerider knows. "Not in so many words," he says, but he can't help but sound a little pleased himself. The next egg is cautiously nestled into the pack, with the Dragonhealer falling into an aching sort of silence, all of his focus being directed on the task at hand… Well, sort of. "Huh? Oh, we have at least a dozen of these things. I- didn't even think of it. But you know, in case of… emergencies." The words are coming choppier, and with more winces, as if realizing how sloppy he's being. "SOrry, definitely should've thought of that. Don't think it's necessary to bring everyone and their mother running, but I can bring back a sack for you and Niva…?" He flicks a glance towards the weyrwoman's shadow before shrugging and lifting his handles to amble for the entrance. "Of course there is," he says with a world-weary sigh. "Nothing can ever go right." Whiiine whine whine. Then he's gone, off to the Annex, returning after a longer pause with two of the bags in tow. "Don't you worry about a thing, Seryth. They're taking extra care with 'em." He drops to his knees again.
R'iahn doesn't seem to notice any strangled noises from the Weyrwoman or snorting from the Junior, merely flashes them a benign smile. "Oh, really? Well, you ought to. Gets them moving." This for Sigam, expression flicking to 'decidedly less benign'. Then it sobers for Thea, and he's muttering darkly. "Great. Grand." Mutter growl. "I'll stay and help." This is for all of them, as he glances over at Sigam to make sure the dragonhealer has his side. Then he stands again, and starts off, nodding curtly to Seryth. "This'n's got 'em scared to move wrong. Don't worry."
Thea waits until Sigam and Niva have the second egg rolled into the bag before she slips away from Seryth with a final pat. "We'll be right back." She moves to the bag, grabs the handle and lifts with a small gasp of surprise. "Never thought of how heavy these are." She walks carefully, stepping as smoothly as she can over the uneven and dark hatching sands. "All this movement won't-" She just stops her fretful words there.
Sigam can't help but chuckle at the bluerider's words, head shaking. "Good to see you haven't changed, Ri. Shards." Again he stands, shoulder angling downwards steeply before he grabs ahold of his second handle. "Glad we only have one more trip after this," he agrees with Thea, brow crinkled painfully. "It's good that they're heavy - means they're whole and growing - but shardit." Hands enough are ready for the eggs by the time they get back to the Dragonhealer's Annex, and Sig hands his off to a pair of grade three's with relief. "Movement shouldn't hurt them," he huffs at last, looking visibly drained now that he's in the light. Blood's mixed with drying rain to cake the left side of his face, giving him an overall alien and matted look. Sexy. "The mess that's all over the hatchlings are the remains of a fluid-filled sac that helps protect the developing babies from being adversely damaged by being rolled, bumped, et cetera," the man explains as he looks around for Niva. She seems to be occupied, talking to the head Dragonhealer inside, so he motions for an older woman with her cert to follow them back to the sands. The next load is a quiet trip on Sigam's part, lips pressed into a firm, pale line, and by the time he stoops to lift the last egg into the incubator himself with the help of his aide, he looks as if he's about to fall over. "There. Seryth can come if she wants. Doubt anyone would turn her away. Unless you want to go back to her." Sig, for one, doesn't look like he's going much of anywhere without help.
"Why would I?" Riah growls absently, expression dark. "Here here." For the next, vehemently — he might not be completely deteriorated, but he's sure not recovered completely from a several-month binge drinking episode! The man is silent, too, for a time, devoting all of his energy to egg-carrying. When they finally stop, he's possibly not in any better shape than Sigam, but he levels the man with a withering glare. "Go sit down somewhere." The bluerider says. "Look like you damn near could've fallen over, you stubborn wherry." Knowingly, he grumbles. "Tell me this one doesn't do this all the shardin' time. I thought he might've grown out of that." This is aimed at Thea, with a weary grin.
Xanadu Weyr - DragonHealer's Annex
An entrance way which would allow admittance to even the greatest of Queen Dragons leads into a chamber which would house half-a-dozen of the same size. To one side is a shallow pool which constantly clears itself of grime and is used is washing wounds. Nearby is a shelf with a generous supply of clean bandages and clean sheets upon stone shelves. The other side of the chamber is taken up by an alcove with multiple banks of computers to house medical records and help to diagnose illness and injury in the Dragons who come for aid. Within this alcove is a small medical laboratory where medicines and herbs can be prepared and experiments can take place. The far wall houses two dozen Dragon couches, each separated above by a rail which supports a thick curtain allowing the patients an option of privacy as they rest and recover.
Seryth pads into the Annex with the last of the eggs, finding a spot to settle where she can keep an eye on them. Thea's attention is on the incubator. After the last egg is settled, she turns to Sigam. "Thank-" Riah's words sink in, her eyes widen and she steps towards the dragonhealer, "What happened to you?" Oh, she's calm all right, but it's a calm before the storm sort of thing. Her gaze travels down his face to his clothes, noting all the blood there. "Why didn't you say something?" Seething, or perhaps it might seem to some, her mouth is a thin line of displeasure or maybe worry. "They can take care of the eggs," a thumb jerks in the direction of the other 'healers, "You, me, Infirmary. Now." She narrows her eyes, expecting a fuss, likely.
"Huh?" Sigam looks up from the eggs, which have earned his mesmerized attention. "No, thanks, I'm good," he declines R'iahn's order with a dismissive twitch of his fingers, wriggling his shoulders to show that he's good and braced up as it is. "And look who's talking. You're a pot calling the kettle black." This comes with a hard inhale of air through his nose for Riah, a mockingly prissy sniff if ever there has been one. "Ah, I got clocked by a branch making sure Pol got to the Caverns with the message for Ierne to be on standby and stay out of Xanadu's skies." Here the poor, poor bluerider is eyed again. "At least it was me, not her. Anyways, I'm fine. Don't be mad." Eyes that are already weary hood as he looks towards the floor. "I'm fine. It's only a flesh wound." Well, the Dragonhealer is fussy, but in the way a youngster is when they're tired and stressed out - with a bit of a whine and a whole lot of frowning that probably isn't helping his situation one iota.
R'iahn tosses a glance to the eggs, smiling faintly, then focuses back on Thea and Sigam. Indeed, he is a pot, today; looks worse than he really is, but still. His hair is shaggy and unkempt, and skin still too-sallow, face too-gaunt. "Dragonhealer," The man growls, voice low. "/I/ intend to let them fuss over me as much as they shardin' want to, long as it means I can get out there and help folks. I'm not /goin'/ in there alone." He doesn't quite deal with the man like he would his wayward son, but Riah's definitely giving poor Siggy the Fatherly Glare. Or maybe it's just a glare. "An' you wouldn't disobey a goldrider, would you?" Oh, oh! Burn! He has his health in mind, though, see? "I ain't losing my dragonhealer to something stupid like bleeding out the brain and bein' too stubborn to do anything about it." And with this, Riah gives Thea a Significant Look (hopefully she gathers something along the lines of 'I'm dragging Sigam to the infirmary, whether I have to sedate him to get him there or not' from that, but you never know) and strides out purposefully.
Thea doesn't budge. She doesn't argue, either. Instead she smiles sweetly at Sigam, reaching for Shep where he is curled around her shoulders. She lifts the protesting brown firelizard to eye level, "Go get me a Healer, the ugly big female, you know the one." She's actually got a purr in her tone as she says it. Cool eyes flick towards the stubborn dragonhealer, "Unless… you'd rather I sew that thing up for you?" She's serious. "I'm sure you have all the supplies handy up here." She smirks, "Of course you'll have to talk me through it since I've only sewn fabric, not flesh." Her eyes slide towards R'iahn with a bit of surprise. He was hurt too? Apparently she didn't notice. But something else has her giving Sigam what can only be a look of confusion, "His dragonhealer?" Oh the look on her face says it all and Sigam can probably read it. It says 'please say it isn't so'.
Sigam's eyes slide reluctantly over to Riah's, wincing at the use of his title - a word he heard only /too/ often from the man back at Ierne. It wasn't his fondest. "Ex-Wingleader," he grumbles in a parry, but there's no malice behind it. "Yeah, I know. I just… I'm tired of needing healers." Arms fold over his chest, lips pursing a bit, but his resolve seems to be shaking. "I'm not going to die, you great big ninny. And no!" The last bit is gasped at Thea, whose words for her little Shep have finally sunk into his head. "Don't you dare! And they won't let you do that anyways," the man sulks, eyeing his staff, who've all been darting him what they believe to be subtle concerned looks. "Alright, dammit. I hate you guys." Sig starts off after R'iahn before screeching to a halt that would have made a record proud. "Yes," he murmurs cautiously, "I was one of the priviledged few Jaesriuth allowed to fix him up at Ierne. Riah liked to make bad blood with the rest of the Dragonhealers if I wasn't there to fix the great dolt." Pride might be in that smirk, but it's washed over with bone-deep exhausion. "I'm not that much of a ponce. Now. If we're going, let's go, yeah?"
Thea smiles, still sweetly at Sigam, allowing Shep to creep back to his sanctuary beneath the hair at the back of her neck. He settles himself with a tiny growl of satisfaction. Likely picking up on his person's satisfaction. Thea steps after Sigam, plucking at his sleeve. When she has his attention, she says quietly, "Thank you." One hand gestures towards the incubator. Then she's eyeing that gash and pushing at him with a growl. "Go take care of yourself before you get some horrible creeping flesh-eating thing that takes half your face with it." She hates him too, see?
R'iahn smiles blandly over his shoulder. "Good plan, Weyrwoman." He calls, pausing in his steps to grin at her. "I hope your dragon and her eggs stay well." This, quieter as he glares at Sigam. "Hate me all you want." Growled pleasantly, before flashing a little smirk. "Hey, be glad. You got lots've experience you sure wouldn't have if he hadn't decided to pick you when you weren't, what, twelve turns old? Maybe ten." The bluerider teases mercilessly. "Come on, then. Good day to you, m'am." Riah even manages to sound somewhat polite, as he salutes Thea and turns on a heel.
Sigam turns with the sleeve tug, brow knit ever so slightly, perhaps expecting another demand or chiding. Instead, he gets thanks, and slowly his face relaxes, the corners of his mouth tilting up on one side. "No problem. Good on Seryth for letting us know on time. I'll send Calelir with a note to get someone to look at the heater in the meantime. Take care, okay?" He nods then, amused by her description of what horrors could await if he stalls any longer. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going. See you!" The Dragonhealer weaves through the busy Annex, pausing only to touch the nose of a creeling green reassuringly, and then he's off after Riah with a growled, "I was sharding fifteen, you skunk. How old were you back then? Sixty?" Two can play that game!