Strength In Numbers -- {71st Dragon Hatching - NPC}

A large natural cavern found by the initial expedition. It has been cleared out and filled with sand. Naturally flowing hotspring pools inside the cavern keeps this cavern warm enough for dragon eggs, but also makes it very humid with all the steam from the hotspring waters.
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Title: The Majestic Birb
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Mon Sep 10, 2018 10:55 pm

{Fuzzytimed to Late Autumn 2048}

It hadn’t taken long for Safryn to fall into a new rhythm with their new Weyrleader, F’lin was a competent man even if his style was a bit more light hearted than the dutiful L’van had been. It was...refreshing actually, and the redheaded woman felt herself relax quite easily around the new bronzerider. Safryn took care of the Weyr and matters close to home, while F’lin tended to the Wings and all their tactical resources, and together they dealt with diplomatic matters with their axis and allies. Their ties in the North were still as strong as ever, and even more so with High Reaches now having a mature Atricisian Gold in their ranks. However, it seemed it was their own neighbors they had to watch the closest.

There had been stirrings from Walled hold, a group of rebels causing a commotion that had rippled throughout the Hold, yet the leaders kept their information very close to their chests. For now, the Atricis Weyrleaders were kept at bay from whatever drama was boiling within the southern Hold, yet Safryn cautioned them to be prepared for the worst. From what they could gather, the Rebellion had been gaining strength and the attacks against The Mother were growing bolder and many innocents would be caught in the middle of this struggle. More than once, Safryn had thought of sending word to the Hold that anyone seeking to escape this chaos was welcome within the Weyr, and yet she knew all they could do was wait and see what happened to Walled before they could act.

When that would happen, no one could be certain, and so they had to just keep on the way things were for now. It certainly helped the Weyrwoman that she was constantly busy over these last few months tending to her dark queen and making plans for the upcoming Hatching and Feast. It was a routine that felt familiar and comfortable to the goldrider and she seemed to relish in it this time, allowing it to distract her from the harsh realities outside their walls. She made the rounds with the candidate masters to ensure they had what they needed for the influx of candidates from Searches, and then went to the Weyrling barracks and made sure the masters had enough supplies for the next class of the weyrlings soon to come in. Anything they needed would be requisitioned and come in on the next caravan or sooner if needed, and nothing was spared for the newest gerneration of dragonriders.

From the looks of it, Soquilith was growing heavier by the minute and her belly had expanded rapidly, giving the dark queen a glowing sense of pride. There were whispers and even the golden mother herself gave voice to them, that there may be something even more precious among this clutch, and many began to wonder if there would be a golden shell laid upon the sands. As time went on, the queen boasted and strutted around the Weyr as though all eyes were on her, and even made a bit of a show of taking to the sands a seven day earlier than usual with such a cumbersome belly. Once confined to the cavern, it was up to her mate Mnenomth to care for her, and what a doting bronze he was, bringing her only the fattest wherries or sidling up next to her to offer comfort and warmth when she felt lonely.

The day came when the labors bore down on her, and Safryn could feel it rippling through her as a shadow of the contractions that gripped her queen. Hastily, the goldrider concluded her meeting with the Headwoman and went to the Sands to be there for her dark queen and as many times before, hummed and sang to the beautiful dragon as she carefully worked each egg lovingly into the wallow. It took several candlemarks, a testament to the sheer number of eggs deposited so carefully onto the Sands, but in the end Soquilith was the proud mother of twenty four new dragons that would lay in her shadow until the day they were ready to hatch. While none of the eggs sported that telltale golden shimmer, the number alone was something to be impressed by and the dark queens’ mood wasn’t nearly as sour as it would have been.

For sevendays, the brooding queen guarded her precious clutch, never leaving the cavern for anything and lay forever beside the clutch of twenty four eggs. Lovingly, she turned them, buried them and scooted them around until each and every one of them had been handled many times by their doting mother and they were placed in just the perfect spot. The shells hardened quickly, and the time for Hatching was drawing nearer every day and the whole Weyr seemed to be walking on eggshells, waiting for the moment when the humming began, when the golden voice would call to them.

It came during the setting of the sun, just as everyone had settled in for the night and planned to put their feet up, when the whole Weyr began to vibrate with the hum of a thousand voices. One clear voice rang out about them all as Soquilith beckoned the candidates to hurry and the onlookers not to dawdle as her children were ready to enter the world. Everyone was bustling and moving to get into place as Safryn took up her rightful place on the Sands with her Queen and a soft smile was given toward F’lin as they shared the place of honor beside their life mates. Small talk was made, but all eyes seemed glued to the twenty four hardened shells that were shaking to and fro, ready to break free.

Once the first shell cracked open, the rest were soon to follow and despite the size of the clutch, it seemed to be over within a candlemark. The first to hatch was a rather dashing brown who made his choice without skipping a beat, and the very last was a dainty little green who seemed pleased her siblings had all found their matches and was content to find her own among those who still lingered hopefully. All in all, it was a successful Hatching and each and every one of the twenty four went off into Weyrlinghood and their dark golden mother was allowed a much needed reprieve and she slipped from the sands when everyone was gone and spent a well deserved night being cleaned by her rider, and lavished by her mate.

Clutch Breakdown

2 Bronze
4 Brown
7 Blues
2 Pewter
8 Greens
1 Opal/Pyrite

{OOC: My apologies I did not get this up sooner! RL kinda ate me up and all the traveling and work, my "free time" was not as free as I was hoping and the focus was all out the window... But I got it done!}
"You are only given one little spark of madness,
... you mustn't lose it"

The Lady . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Vixen . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Knight

The Matron . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Joker . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Princess

Image Image
The Mariner . ~ * ~ . The Spirit

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Fri Sep 28, 2018 4:39 pm

Dragon Candidate Angela

Sleep would never come to Angela, not when the air of excitement sparked all around her, jumping from room to room and cot to cot. Everyone knew that with the fall of every drop of wax, the hatching grew near. Might the call come with the next drop? Would the warm reverberations sing out in a candlemark? Three candlemarks? Half a day-

No, it would be that night when the song of life warmed their ears.

The queen's warning was quickly heeded by the entire barrack. Angela did not delay to toss of her furs and slip into her robe. It felt rough against the skin, but she knew the importance of it and what it signified. She was about to Stand for the first time as a candidate of New Atricis Weyr. Turns had she readied herself for this moment. The canddiate desired it for a life time, and even dared to dream she might Impress at a tender age like her sister, Solai. Yet no dragon ever found her in the stands. Instead, Angela would have to Stand on the sands like everyone else. But at least I will have more of a chance than I ever have before. This was her time, her moment, and maybe, just maybe, a dragon might find her worthy enough when she stood before them with a readied mind and heart.

Yet with every shell that broke, Angela was left standing in rejection. Though there were several hopefuls, no dragon truly paid her any regard, not when other hopefuls stood around her, and proved themselves better prospects than herself. All her life she had been loved by dragons. On the sands, none cared for her. A blue, a handful of greens, an opal, and even a pewter passed her, and none of them gave her even an ounce of regard. Desperate to Impress, Angela tried to will those last dragons to give her even the slightest consideration. I'm here! I would love you all my life. Please! Just give me a chance!

None answered her. Instead, she was left with the scattering of egg shells.


On her return to the barracks, Angela did everything in her power not to cry, but the display of melancholy was inevitable once she reached her room. Upon the cot she collapsed into heep of tears, sobbing into her pillow. Daphne and Apollo were quick to assure her of their love, but she felt undeserving of any assurance or shows of affection. Turns had she waited for that moment. With how much dragons had always showered her with affection, Angela thought her Impression was guaranteed with the first hatching, but instead she had proven herself just as worthless on the sands as she had been in the harper hall.

If I'm not supposed to be a harper, but I'm not supposed to be a rider, what will happen to me? Never had she felt so alone. Her body begged for a presence longed denied to her since her candidacy. She missed her sister, and all the things Emalia said to assure her the world would be right again. Her mind reached out and willed for Emalia's appearance, but after a half candlemark of wishing for Emalia, Angela finally realised Emalia would never come.

"What have I done..." She should have stayed in the craft hall with Emalia. She never should have left and abandoned everything and everyone she had ever known. Her candidacy and everything she pursued was a mist-

With all her cries, Angela missed the gentle creak of the door when it opened, but the feel of warm arms wrapping around her did not go amiss. She would have turned to the source, but once Emalia spoke, a sudden peace over came her and silenced her cries. "Shhhh... you're better than that, Angie..."

The tears still fell, but without a wimper. Instead, she absorbed the sensation of her sister running her fingers over her hair, smoothing them with every stroke. How could she be here? Why was she there? But that was not the question she asked. "I didn't Impress, Ema."

"I know, but there will be other chances," she answered, her convictions as steadfast as they were when they were children. "You'll Impress."

Yet Angela did not remain entirely convinced. She gave a shake of her head. "I thought I'd Impress tonight. I didn't think I'd ever be rejected..."

"I know," Emalia replied with a kiss to her sister's temple. "You were always impatient like that. But it'll happen. You'll see."

Her words were enough to sooth Angela's battered soul. She said nothing for a time as she took in Emalia's presence, and allowed it to bring her to ease. Only after several minutes passed did she have the realisation enough to ask the obvious. "How did you get in here?"

Emalia chuckled. "I just walked in. I doubt they'll care that I'm with my baby sister."

"I'm not your baby sister." The faintest smile revealed itself.

"But you're the youngest."

"Only by a few minutes." The two sister regarded one another, both stubborn, both smirking, until both gave in with the softest laughter and embraced one another. Angela found the will to speak once more. "Thank you for staying with me."

"Of course, Angie."

There was no doubt in her mind they would both be in trouble by the morrow, but for this night, when broken souls needed mending, only Emalia mattered to her.

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