Post by Sparrow on Mar 12, 2009 10:05:52 GMT -5
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MAVROS WEYR AND SEAHOLD
Status: Just founded, and awaiting our first dragon hatching, scheduled for April 11th.
Currently Accepting: Bronze (2), Brown, Green, and Blue riders. A queen is on the sands, and we need Candidates of both genders! Also, the first six members to have their holder, non-candidate characters approved will be able to impress fire lizards at a special early hatching.
Mavros is a canon color, non-canon premise weyrhold with a PG-13 rating. Located around a volcanic caldera, Mavros is composed of banished dragonriders and Holders from the Southern Continent. This means the Weyr "Bowl" is actually a harbor, and space is tight! Moreover, the Tenth Pass has just begun, and after a disastrous first threadfall, the Weyr has found itself with only thirteen adult dragons remaining. Asurath's clutch of twenty eggs, one of them a queen, is Mavros' only hope for the future.
Senior Weyrwoman Oria’s account of the journey to Mavros and First Fall
We departed from Tidewater Hold on the first day of the eighth month. It was high summer, and the seas were calm. The conflict between myself and Senior Weyrwoman Kalena had escalated to a point where violence between our factions had broken out. In the interest of stopping further bloodshed, it was determined that the more junior queen and her supporters should quit the weyr for good.
With a contingent of thirty-three riders and twenty weyrlings, as well as one hundred eight-six assorted holders and weyrfolk, we chose to form a new weyrhold on one of the lower Western Ring Islands rather than disperse amongst the other weyrs. Mavros was the one we chose.
While the weyrfolk and other holders were brought to Mavros on dragonback one by one, along with the supplies we had managed to accumulate, the fisherfolk set sail with their families and a number of riders accompanying them.
Already settled into the natural caves of Mavros Bay, we awaited their arrival with impatience. Candidate Master S’ten, thinking to give the weyrlings flight practice, decided to take them out to meet the fleet halfway. They departed, and the rest of us waited, even as the weather became stormy, and lightning struck the highest rock on Lesser Mavros. Then, suddenly, blue Nesporth blinked from between, bearing his severely injured rider and one desperate message which made all our blood run cold.
Thread.
No one anticipated the early-onset of the 10th pass. According to calculations, it should not have arrived for twenty years. That knowledge was of little help to us in the face of disaster. Despite my efforts to organize our assault, the remaining two wings of dragons took off in valiant disorder. We arrived in the middle of a thread-storm. Torrents of deadly silver spun in the air, whipped back and forth unpredictably by gale force winds, as the sea below churned, throwing up spray and billowing with the pallid carcasses of the drowned organisms. Among them, illuminated in the flashes of lightning, tossed fallen riders and weyrlings alike.
Six of the fisher boats were nowhere to be seen. Only three dragons of the escort remained, guarding the remaining ships with a kind of desperate courage I hope I will never see again. They had made use of the firestone which had been brought over on the largest of the ships, but it had only lasted them so long because there were so few of them remaining. The others must have perished in the initial confusion – and among them, Weyrleader M’ton and his bronze Moroth. And for the weyrlings...
They were inadequately trained. That is all I will say on the matter. They had no idea how to fly in formation properly, much less fight. Weyrwoman Kalena had thought it better that they learn acrobatics during their first three months of training, rather than fighting drills.
I ordered half the dragons to cover as others, under the command of bronze Sorth, lifted up the fisher boats and flashed between; the only thought in my mind being that we should not lose our comrades for nothing, that the fleet would be brought home safely, or we would not return at all. My thinking was confused and overly influenced by Asurath’s rage and despair. I was hard put to direct her to defend herself at that moment, let alone give orders.
Only fifteen riders made it back to Mavros, three of whom died of their injuries soon after.
The extent of the disaster has left us stunned, but I have managed to convince the majority of holders that we cannot return to Tidewalk Weyr. To do so would dishonor the memory of our fallen, who died to protect the dream of building a true weyr, like the great weyrs of the Ninth Pass. And I truly believe that our holders will be safer here on Mavros than they would be on the continent. The fishing is rich, and there is room enough on the island to support herdbeasts for at least two hundred dragons, while still being small and rocky enough so we can adequately defend it against Threadfall, even in our reduced numbers. When Asurath and Moroth’s clutch hatches, I will have their children and their riders trained to honor the sacrifices which gave them the chance at a new way of life.
Come create a character, and give Mavros a chance to survive!
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