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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 8:08 pm
A day of such joy, a day of such depression. The newly-Hatched barely toddling off the sands, and yet the reality of the world was crashing down on her. The young gold-rider sat at her desk in her weyr, head buried in her arms. Curls of black covered her face, hot tears stinging her eyes. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. What was she – they – to do? HannMine, you know what must be done.
“But I don't. I really don't.” Came the weak reply, a response full of weakness, of desperation. “Elenneth, I-” But the she paused, and the gold allowed it to sit still. Hannele wanted Delina, needed the Weyrwoman's guidance; Hannele wanted the mothering figure to step out of the darkness and call out the light, bring out the best in the Weyr, as Telgar would desperately need it.
“I'm so lost.”
---
“She's got little time left.” The male Healer stopped by his Weyrleader, gazing evenly at him, refusing to acknowledge his own thoughts, unable to openly admit where he placed the blame. “I would recommend saying goodbye.” He said without emotion, moving past the distraught Weyrleader. “At a distance,” he reminded in a chiding voice, his hands shaking at his sides. Civaer left with a grim look on his face, ignoring the people he passed, glad to be reclusive and, at the best of times, unhelpful. He needed them to keep their distance; he didn't want anyone to touch him.
Civaer had been one of the first Healers that had seen to Delina, if simply because his fellows could not stand him. He had been fine; the Weyrwoman had been agreeable enough. That was all he really asked for. Making his way down, he found himself at the underground bar, ordering round after round of whatever would be served to him, a manic pace set by his own paranoia. They had no reason to believe...
Leaning over the side of his table as a sudden wave of nausea took him over, Civaer felt his insides rebel, the floor of the bar receiving most of the contents of his stomach until nothing remained. Weak, the man watched as he was reached for, pulling out of their grasp without any energy behind his movements. “You've had enough.”
“Ye've had 'nuff. All a' ya.” He replied, without caring that other patrons in the bar were looking his way. “Yer all gonna get what's comin' ta ya, gonna get it good.” His voice broke off, and the laughter that followed contained as much nervousness as it did humor. “Wondered 'bout tha Weyrwoman, have ya? Well, I got answers, I do.”
“Civaer,” the larger man stepped towards the small Healer, hands clenched at his sides in solemn anger. The warning was not lost on the Healer, who stumbled for a moment to grab his table.
“Ah'm shardin' faintin'.” He announced, the self-diagnosis doing little to stop him from collapsing like a sack of tubers to the ground. The others at the bar laughed, perhaps a little uneasily. The larger man moved to get the Healer out, exiting the bar with the other scooped up in his arms to the whistles of dragonriders and weyrfolk that were doing their best to lose the frantic look in Civaer's eyes from their minds.
---
A few days passed, and the miner that was present for the upcoming wher clutch found himself constantly cold. Nothing the man did could ease it, could make him stop shivering. He would bundle up next to the fire, sip klah, would do anything possible, only to have absolutely no relief. Sweating, the man, Greigre, put on every bit of clothes he could, feverishly tossing anything he had onto his large frame.
Eventually, he could pull nothing else on, couldn't even bother to move. The miner twitched in his mountain of blankets and clothes, aware that each limb felt as though it had a thousand pounds sitting on them. Only by slow movements could he achieve movement, and the pain was far from worth it.
“It's cold.” Greigre complained to the other candidates he shared a room with, aware that they skirted far from him. The prideful man refused to see a Healer, said he'd seen enough of one to last him a lifetime. The other candidates watched as his pile shivered, the man growing silent. The shiverings grew few and far between before stopping all together. The room's tension slowly fled as the younger men began talking of their old homes and crafts. The shiverings began again, suddenly and violent, drawing attention immediately.
They were erratic and large, not constant and subtle, and that prompted one of the boys, a former apprentice-Healer to leap in, discarding clothes until he could see Greigre's face, yelling as loudly as he could “He's having a seizure! Go get help!” It was their best bet.
Greigre would be dead in less than twenty-four hours.
---
Civaer struggled in his bed, tossing between hot and cold states regularly, remembering Delina doing the same. His eyes cracked open, darkness tinging them. He felt like blacking out again, for the millionth time, darkness tinging his eyes as the world swooped around his head, demanding that he empty the already-empty contents of his stomach. “Civaer, love?”
“Out.” He said, swiping the hand away, aware of a red-hot rash that raced up his right arm, visible to him. “Get out.” He hissed again when she barely moved, pushing himself up, off the bed. “OUT!” He roared as best he could, a weak little voice replacing the once powerful vocals of a man who was absolutely certain of himself.
He heard the door slam, and somehow found his feet, fighting the darkness until he found his desk. Ink found his hands, and he scrawled as best he could over the surface of the desk, of the wall when it was necessary:
Hot Cold Fatigue Fever Coughing Sneezing Vomiting Fainting Rash?
Then the darkness came for him again.
---
What was he seeing? A drudge collapsed on the floor, her temperature high above the norm, mumbling something about “Civaer”. The bluerider narrowed his eyes, dark skin scrunching between his eyebrows. “I've seen this before.” He mumbled, and would repeat the same thing later that day to the Jr. Weyrwoman. “Shortly before I transferred,” he said to her, aware all too much that she wore a cloth over the lower half of her face, her eyes cold and without sympathy, “a family at Southern all died from this disease. They were all quarantined the moment their daughter had a seizure in the creche. Of all the things this Healer listed, that's the only one not accounted for.”
“What you're saying is, we're going to have an epidemic on our hands?” Hannele said simply, watching the bluerider shift uncomfortably. “And there's no way of knowing how it got here or how to cure it?”
“I-it most likely came from a transfer from the South. Or someone at the Gather had it...” Hannele was silent, and the bluerider's eyes widened.
“Thank you, C'zar. Can I ask you to do something for me?”
“Yes, ma'am?” Hannele sighed and stood, pacing her floor slightly. Dark circles had begun to form beneath her eyes, and the current decision seemed to weigh heavily upon her. She paused for a moment, and the face that looked back at him held more authority than before. Her back was straight, her eyes cleared of their doubt.
“Go to the Healers and tell them what you've told me. Tell them to find a place we can isolate the sick.” She was aware of the cruelty that sounded in her voice, but was unable to keep it from being heard. The greater good, what was best for Telgar, that was right, right? “And, C'zar, if you wouldn't mind?”
“Yes, Weyrwoman. I understand.” The smile that came to his face held fear, but there was a faint glimmer of hope. He ran out the door, and Hannele pondered for a moment his final word.
She liked that.
Elenneth, call the weyrling dragons and tell them to assemble Theirs by the door of the Barracks. The dragons do not have to be present, and we might have room for them all if they are not. Both seniors and juniors. Then, talk to the other dragons – not Svrieth, she doesn't need to be reminded of this – and have them pass on a message to Theirs.
You're sure? Hannele removed the mask from her face, dropping it back on the desk. A look of determination crossed over her face. Playtime was over; training was done. It was time for the real deal.
“Make it happen.”
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 8:25 pm
((OoC Info:
A Plague has hit Telgar Weyr. It will be bloody, brutal, and we will be dealing with it for a while to come.
Want to participate by having your character get sick?
What about their firelizards, wher, or dragon?
Make the rolls with the Gaia dice in this thread [Exempt from this rule is Winged; I rolled for her already because she is impatient].
First Roll [Humans] [Ten-Sided Die]
This is your roll to see how the human characters that get sick will be affected.
1. Death 2. No backlash 3. No backlash 4. Lifepartner death [No backlash for people without lifepartners] 5. Death 6. Lifepartner death [No backlash for people without lifepartners] 7. Backlash 8. Backlash 9. Backlash 10. Backlash
Second Roll [Humans][Ten-Sided Die]
If you roll Backlash, roll again to see what the leftover results will be after your character gets healthy again.
1. Extreme loss of muscle 2. Shortened lung capacity 3. Loss of hearing /deafness 4. Loss of sight / blindness 5. Amputation of limb(s) 6. Weakened immune system 7. Shortened lung capacity 8. Extreme loss of muscle 9. Weakened immune system 10. Add Second Effect [Roll for Two Effects; Becomes Player's Choice for Second Effect if Rolled Again]
Only Roll [Dragons/Whers/Firelizards][Four-Sided Die]
Only roll this for each dragon/wher/firelizard you want to get sick.
1. Extreme loss of muscle / flightlessness (or severely stunted flights) 2. Stunted Growth [Loss of muscle if dragon is done growing] 3. Sterility 4. Add Second Effect [Roll for Two Effects; Becomes Player's Choice for Second Effect if Rolled Again]
Symptoms
The symptoms of the disease. From most common to rarest.
1. Sneezing 2. Coughing 3. Fever 4. Rash 5. Hot Flashes 6. Cold Chills 7. Extreme Fatigue 8. Vomiting 9. Fainting 10. Seizures
Your character can experience as many of these symptoms as you please, but if they remain sick for very long (as is likely), due to the nature of the disease, they should probably all reach the fainting level. After your character gets sick, they can choose to fight it, and possibly infect others (anyone who RPs against a sick character will have to make a roll to see if they get sick - them's the breaks) or they can go into quarantine.))
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Posted: Mon Sep 14, 2009 8:27 pm
Current Player Characters Infected:
Ichidou Fal'n B'ron Ixiara M'leck N'mar W'reh Onie Ralia
Firelizards Capna (of Minno) Remmeck (of Ralia)
Dragons
South
If I look through the Moderator Panel and find that you've tried to reroll by deleting posts in this thread, I'll pick for you. And it won't be pleasant. I don't mean to sound like a jerk, but if others are sticking with their first roll then so do you. (Unless you have a REALLY good reason, then PM me.)
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Shiallah rolled 1 10-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 6:58 am
Player roll: Ixiara rolled a 3; no backlash
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Shiallah rolled 1 10-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 6:59 am
Player roll: M'leck rolled a 1; death (AUGH!!! NUUUU! crying x100 )
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Stark Raveling Mad rolled 1 10-sided dice:
8
Total: 8 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 7:02 am
Player Roll: B'ron rolled 8; backlash
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Shiallah rolled 1 10-sided dice:
9
Total: 9 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 7:02 am
Player roll: N'mar Rolled a 9; backlash.
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Shiallah rolled 1 10-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 7:03 am
Backlash roll; N'mar Rolled a 3. Backlash effect: deafness/loss of hearing (HE LIIIIIVES!!! *raises hands in thanks*)
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Stark Raveling Mad rolled 1 10-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 7:05 am
Backlash roll: B'ron rolled a 4; blindness
Not so bad, not so bad. 3nodding
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Stark Raveling Mad rolled 1 10-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 7:07 am
Player Roll: Onie rolled a 2; no backlash heart
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 8:07 am
I'm just re-posting the results I got last night, for convenience's sake.
Ichidou: Backlash - Shortened Lung Capacity.
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The_Muffin_Puppy rolled 1 10-sided dice:
10
Total: 10 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 9:29 am
Player Roll: Ralia Backlash.
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The_Muffin_Puppy rolled 1 10-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 9:41 am
Player Roll: Ralia Backlash: Shortened lung capacity. YES!!
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The_Muffin_Puppy rolled 1 4-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-4)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 10:37 am
Firelizard roll: Remmeck Effect: Extreme muscle lose/ flightlessness
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Mandralyne rolled 1 10-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-10)
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 2:21 pm
Character: L'von Effect: Life Partner Death
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