Date: 09.04.2685 (05.20.10)
Location: Flaming Field, Fort Weyr
People: A'fiel, B'ky, Cenlia, Ely, F'yr, Galina, Kessa, K'shan, Meo, M'lo, M'nol, N'dav, Pralius, Shorynia, Tawlani, X'hil
Dragons: Avideth, Faraeth, Furuihaneth, Irelanth, Kinseth, Maglinoth, Nawyth, Valliereth, Versaith, Zuruath
Synopsis: The final event of the Winter Games at Fort Weyr ends in a flaming contest — in which Fort goes down in flames.
The afternoon is clouded over, overcast and dreary. It would be a more typical day had it been rain rather than snow that falls, for snow will scatter here and there, in brief down drafts of white. For now though, the games continue, despite the snow which proves meddlesome to those trying to prepare the last touches of the games - such as hauling in the chunks of ice from the glacier fields of the mountains near by. What better thing to do in a day than blast ice until it turns into a puddle of water? At least this Turn they've decided to dig in trenches so the run off doesn't flood the bowl proper. Banners flap in the breeze, one representing each Weyr, others merely for their display of colour. It's all in good fun. The field is vast though and looks capable of holding many dragons. There are bleachers built here as well to allow spectators to view the flaming from their seats. Highly untraditional to flame from the ground, but it still tests the strength of the dragons flame.
Kessa is standing near the refs who hold tally boards. A score keeper is off to the side while others are set about to measure the remains of the ice to verify the winners. All things in check, Kessa looks toward the assembling group. There she glances around for familiar faces. When all is ready, she enters center field with arms lifting to gain the attention of the crowd. She's handed a large cone like object (megaphone) in which amplifies her voice to be heard over all the rustling of dragon wings and murmurings of those who don't quite settle down.
"Greetings! We're glad to see such a large crowd here to join us on this day, the final day of the Winter Games. As it stands, Ista is ahead by two Weyr points and could sweep the entire tournament. However, today's final event could change everything! There are three rounds, each of which earns a Weyr point. Ista only has to win two rounds today to take the Winter cup home. So come on Fort, let's stop that and take back what's ours!" She lifts a hand to stall any boos or cheers, "Let's get these games started!"
The ref waves his hand and calls out, "We'll be starting the first round of flaming. K'shan and Nawyth, Ely and Maglinoth are representing Fort Weyr. Please make room so they can come to the center of the field." Eyes turn toward the Ista group of riders, "Has Ista Weyr decided who'll stand for them?" The ref waits, eyes moving over the group of orange clad riders.
Tawlani waddles over to the bleachers and climbs over several people on her way to an empty seat. "Excuse me, excuse me, ahah hi there, pardon me, oh we've gotten friendly, haven't we?" When she finally gets past them, she sits down. Bundled to the max, looking more like a heap of winter clothes than a person prepared for the winter weather, the laborer looks over at the dragons as the teams are divied up. She elbows G'ber, who is terribly underdressed, and shivvering with his hands between his knees, "Ought to be a win for Fort this time, doncha think?" He nods, maybe, or maybe he's just cold.
Meo arrives with Furu at the falaming field, a grin of excitement on her face. Last ice flaming she was a spectator, this time she came as a participant. She slid down her browns side, and patted him on the leg, before she looks around, making sure they were out of the way of K'shan, and Ely. "Patience Furu, we're in the next round." She tells the brown, who rumbles.
Wrapping the orange and black scarf that had graced his neck during the opening games, just a /little/ tighter for warmth, A'fiel shoves gloved hands deep into the pockets of his jacket before he moves to Valliereth's side, the small green turning her long lean neck to snuffle lovingly at the man. "We'll do it," he remarks, pulling a gloved hand free and resting it gently against his beloved dragon's neck. After all, broom ball might have been a little too rough and tumble for the likings of the Istan Assistant Weyrlingmaster, but this event could potentially be a place for his demure lady to shine. Padding through the snow, the greenrider and green make their way towards the place they're supposed to be.
F'yr and Zaruath have prepared themselves well for this game again. This time the brown doesn't even /bother/ to look stressed and angry about the crowd. With firestone in sight, he's anxiously staring a hole into the firestone sacks as if unable to wait. "We're here for Ista!" the short brownie calls out to the ref, waving her hands to make sure that she's noticed and luring her lifemate forward so that they can represent. They even went with some colorful blacks and oranges tucked here and there in Fy's clothing and Zaruath's straps.
Nawyth is…/raring/ to go. Oh yes. The green is practically prancing as she moves along in the cleared space, pausing every few moments in a tense crouch. What was that? Was that the /prey/? The evil..vicious creatures to be put to the /flames/? K'shan sighs just a bit as he moves next to the dragon, waving a bit at the blocks of ice. "You'll be flaming that, dear." Nawyth just lifts her head, letting it sway for just a bit before giving the ice a rather challenging bugle. "..It's not alive."
Off with the healers is Galina, her first aid kit in hand and a small bronze firelizard tucked in the scarf around her neck. Only the bare point of his angular muzzle can be seen and observers might even firmly believe that the bronzeling and his owner are breathing in unison — slow, steady, and even. While the healers haven't been needed overly much for the past two events, the risks involved with fire are high and none of them want to take any chances. So, don't mind her as she stands on the sidelines to watch.
Tiny spirals of snow billow around Maglinoth's forelegs as she traipses into the center of the field, the tip of her tail twitching with barely contained excitement. Boots crunching over the frosty ground, Ely picks up her pace to keep in stride with her dragon, pausing every so often to adjust her gloves. Dressed in Fortian colorss today, her riding leathers are a sleek black and brown - not to mention, her hair is tied back in a dark brown leather cord. Glancing at the competition, she smirks a little, her competitive nature already starting to come forward. "Let's do this, Mags," she says, patting the green's hide as she goes to collect a bag of firestone.
In the stands, M'lo stands up and cups his hands around his mouth. "I LOVE YOU ELY!" he bellows. "GOOOO FFFOOOOOORRRTTT!!!!"
X'hil slips on over to the bleachers, quietly. He seems a little shifty-eyed, even perhaps nervous, as he takes a tentative seat in the front row of the bleachers. When the ref makes the call for competitors, he leans forward, eyeing the field critically. "Ah. Trenches. Good move. My old boots were soaked through." he comments absently, to whoever is sitting nearby. "Mmm. Should be an interesting event." he murmurs, watching with obvious interest as the dragons and riders step up to compete.
M'nol's arrival is a bit behind the others, but the short, burly lad does finally arrive beside his mountainous lifemate. In a twist for him, he moves towards the Istan side of the field, nodding to those he knows, and raising a hand in wave to F'yr, "So… what's all…" he pauses as the referee explains, then nods, "Well, I'm here if I'm needed." He grins and pulls out a little orange and black flag and waves it.
Shory is in Ista's stands with the same huge flag she was waving the previous night, "GO ISTA! GO ISTA!"
Pralius is near M'lo and now blushing fiercly. He's just not as outspoken as the exuberant brownrider, still, he waves his little Fortian flag, "GO FORT!"
Kessa promptly exits the center field and makes her way over to the side lines, falling in step with the ref who helps those participating get their stuff together. There's four blocks of ice placed far enough apart from one another that the heat of another's flames won't deminish a wrongful target. The ref calls out, "Your firestone has been piled for you evenly. Please step up. Get yourselves ready." He nods towards those holding red flags - that symbolize the field is NOT ready… slowly, they'll be exchanged for green flags when dragon pairs are ready on the mark. When there are four green flags lifted, the ref will bellow, "FLAME!"
Tawlani bounces a little, screaming, "GO FORT!" G'ber claps, his yells and hers practically being drowned out by the crowd, most of whom in her particular area of seating are screaming similar encouragement to K'shan and Ely. "SCORCH SOME ICE!" The crowd roars.
B'ky is standing off to the side ofthe flaming field, waiting with Avideth, the blue's eyes whirling cheerfully. Nawyth and K'shan are given a long, quiet croon, while B'ky merely nods to the greenpair if they happen to look his way. And he'll murmur a quiet, "Good luck," though whether they hear him in all the commotion.. The bluerider is smiling, the warmth reaching his eyes for once, and while those two are certainly not the only Fortians competing.. his pale gaze remains on them. That is, until Avideth nudges him in the shoulder. Silly blueie, pay attention! B'ky stpes back to lean against his lifemate's side, watching the first even with interest, and calling a quiet, "Luck," to Ely and her dragon as well.
N'dav pats his blue boy on the leg as they approach the field. "One last hurrah before we leave Fort." The pair is decked out in Fortian colors, which looks a little dull on the both of them. They're mostly brown with bits of black instead of the other way around which would probably look better. They head on over the the Fort area to sign up and wait for their round. Versaith can't help himself and hisses at a few of the people who aren't paying attention to him, just to freak them out a bit.
K'shan takes a bit of a breath, standing quite still next to Nawyth. Really, the greenrider typically isn't a fan of having so much..attention. But Nawyth seems quite eager and ready, nudging her rider along toward the firestone. "I'm getting it, already!" Really. He huffs then, and goes to grab a few of the stones, letting the dragon swallow them down carefully. There's a nod though, and he shares a bit of a look with Nawyth as she prances in place, neck arching. "Go to it." Oh yes. Yes she will. Nawyth../fwooshes/.
Meo cheers fopr Ely and K'shan. "Go Ely and K'shan! GO FORT! Let's show Ista who's boss!" She calls, Furju giving a trumpet.
A'fiel keeps one hand along Valliereth's shoulder as the green makes her way towards one of those piles of firestone, his expression suddenly set with determination. The cold about him is briefly ignored, but not forgotten surely, and he comes to a halt, his contact with his dragon suddenly falling away as gloves reach out towards the firestone, inspecting some carefully, discarding and then grabbing some more. "Here, love," he says to Valliereth, offering it as one might offer a treat to a loved one. "Chew carefully, and see what happens."
Ely brushes a hand over her hair, pushing a stray strand of amber out of her way. There's a moment where she pauses, glancing towards the crowd at the sound of her name. Seeking out M'lo, as well as Pralius and others she knows, she lifts a hand in greeting before turning to the task at hand. Competitiveness at the max now. Grinning wickedly, she digs her hand deep into the firestone sack and starts to feed chunks of stone to Maglinoth, who opens her maw daintily for the first few chunks. "Go to it, Mags," she says, giving her one final pat before stepping out of the line of fire to let the green chew.
F'yr waves over to M'nol, though she makes some vague gestures towards the ice and the firestone and, yes, the referee who she then turns to to listen. "Let's show 'em how to flame, Zaru!" she crows, making sure that her lifemate was ready and waiting for the signal… The brown is even more eager, wings half-spread and maw already dropping open so that it was ready to take in the firestone. And then she starts throwing the stone expertly into the waiting maws. Zaruath chews, chews, swallows and then sets himself to the target, eyes narrowed and intent before he opens his maw and lets loose and large belch of flame at it.
Nawyth rears back a little as fame bursts forth, a slight rumbling vibrating out of her at the same time. There's a trilled end to it as the flame sizzles into the ice, before she opens her mouth for more firestone. The rush to get out another spout of flame however has the green lurching and hacking briefly, before a lump of stone goes flying out to land wetly on the ground. K'shan groans a bit. "/Chew/ it!" Really now…
Tawlani screams and claps, "Go FORT!" Her breath along with the breath of dozens of others make it look almost like they've been flamed, with smoke rising off of them. The steam rises almost as quickly as that which is coming off the ice chunks.
The ref extends his arms, the flags are repositioned to red status. The field should no longer be flaming. He clears his throat, waiting for the points to be tallied. When they are, he nods at the score. "Fort Weyr has the point for this round, with Nawyth taking the lead, and Ista's Zaruath close behind." He nods at the assistants who run around in attempts to get the field ready, "Please be patient for the next round and have two competitors ready."
At the announcement of Fort taking the first point, the little crowd around Tawny goes wild. G'ber and Tawny are on their feet with everyone around them, clapping raucously and cheering for the host weyr. "That's the way to do it! That's the way Fort!"
Nawyth extends her wings out, bugling quite loudly. Ice pillar, /defeated/. Oh yeah. Her muzzle bumps right into K'shan then, and the greenrider goes stuff, pushing her away. "You /reek/ like firestone, Nawyth! Stop that!" Gross breath. They'll just..leave the drool-covered bit of firestone for someone else to pick up, as the two head out of the way for the next round. Nawyth simply sidles herself along next to Avideth and croons. Maybe /he/ won't mind her breath.
That last bit of flame from Valliereth is quite a spurt, a whoop coming from A'fiel as he finishes passing the chunks of firestone to his dragon. But alas, it was too much too late. "Well, you can't win them all," he remarks, patting the green as the two of them step back from the remains of the iceblock. "We'll get 'em another time, I guess." Settling with paws placed just so, the little green cranes her head towards the field again, her rider standing between her forelegs, leaning back.
Versaith lets out an echoing bugle, celebrating the win for his home team. N'dav just claps politely, a borad smile on his face as he watches the celebrations.
X'hil has been watching the dragons flame, looking a little on edge. He seems disappointed at a Fort win, muttering to himself. Finally, he steps down from the bleachers, and heads out to the field, signing himself up for the next round, as Kinseth wings in for a landing. The rider may be trying to go incognito, but the bronze is decked out in vivid orange and black straps, very much in the Istan spirit.
Avideth lets out a very loud, un-gentlemanly bugle when the winner is called. And then promptly looks about. Nobody heard that, right? Ahem. Avideth gives Nawyth a low croon, edging a just a little closer when she sidles up, the blue certainly not minding any firestone smell. B'ky, on the other hand, moves a little away from both dragons, but offers K'shan a smile.
Ely waves a hand in front of her face, allowing the smoke to clear as she squints towards the scoreboard to try to see the tally. It's only when it's clear that Fort has gotten the point that she grins wide, despite her face being smudged with ash from the ordeal. "Go Fort!" she yells, whistling between her teeth shrilly afterwards. "You did /great/, Mags. Even that little puff of sharding smoke." She smirks, patting the green's hide as she leads the way off of the field. Time to go to the sidelines to get rd of the firestone smell and to cheer for the rest of the game.
M'nol steps forward, sticking the little Ista flag in Faraeth's straps before mounting the huge brown and giving him a gentle pat. F'yr gets another wave and a youthful "WHOOT!" before he strides out onto the field. For Ista. For glory. For… plain old boring brown straps. Someone was unprepared.
The ice blocks are hauled in and placed on the platforms. The flags of the refs are lifted to signal that they're ready for the competitors. The ref turns to the crowd with an interesting fact as a few minor details are fixed in the background, "Did you know that this ice is mined from the great glaciers of the great western mountain range? Flown all the way here once mined into chunks of ice, weighed and measured - assigned to the dragons on the field today based on their size as well, to make the games fair!" Well ain't that all interesting. There's a whistle from the field and the ref nods, "Would the competitors of the next round find their way to the field! X'hil and M'nol for Ista, M'lo and Meo for Fort." Browns and one bronze. Good match.
"WOO! FORT!" M'lo is cheering even as he bounches down from his seat on the stands. And now it's M'lo's turn. He and Irelanth parade onto the feild, and toward their block of ice. Irelanth arches his neck, proud of himself, and confident in his ability to do this right. "Come on, Irelanth," M'lo says. "Let's show the Istans how it's done." He grabs a good-sized firestone chunk and faces the ref, ready to feed the stone to his lifemate.
Meo whoots! "Go Fort go! One more point, and we're tied!" She cheers, Furuihaneth giving a trumpet as well. The pair moves foward, toward where they're supposed to meet up. "Checking in for team Fort." She says, as she heads onto the field with Furu, and digging into the sack for a good chunk of firestone, ready to feed it.
Cenlia is totally in the crowd, and she's decked out in.. well, okay, weyr spirit is not her strong point. The girl looks rather drab in light clothes, and there might even be dirt-smears on the knees of her pantlegs. However, holding her hair in place is a bright orange bandanna edges in black. Wherever she got that from, it's at least keeping the hair out of her face. She raises a hand to wave at X'hil when he and Kinseth get out there. "Yeah, Sir Kinseth!" she hollars with maybe a bit too much enthisuasm, cheering for the bronze, arm nearly klonking the poor candidate seated next to her. Hey, at least she's not waving a shovel or anything.
After their round, F'yr and Zaruath have moved off to the side where the dragon coil up tightly and still watch the events unfold. F'yr sits down on one of his forearms, keeping close in case they were up again. "We did good. Too bad not good /enough/ but… we still did just as good." She sniffs, a bit insulted they didn't actually get the point, before turning back to the events. "GO X'HIL!" Yes, that's Fy cheering /for/ the stuffy bronzerider. A familiar voice makes the brownrider turn her head, waving at Cenlia eagerly, and then turning to cup her hands around her mouth. "GO ISTA!"
Kinseth takes his place at the largest of the four ice blocks, flicking his wings back tightly against his body with rather more flourish than is strictly necessary. X'hil collects the firestone sack, and heads quickly to Kinseth's side, with an amused call of "I'm coming! Keep your wings on!" for his dragon's apparent impatience, not that the bronze is showing any outward signs, he looks as calm and smug as ever, even as his rider reaches his side, and pulls out a hefty chunk of firestone. "Remember last time… Well, you wouldn't, would you? Just, /chew/." X'hil warns.
Once the dragons are aligned on the field, facing their assigned targets, the ref gives them the go ahead. "Flame on!" he says respectively as he takes a watch from safe distance - power house round meant big gouts of flame!
K'shan is…smiling. Yes, he might actually /be/ smiling a little bit, now that Nawyth-the-stinky isn't touching him any longer. He does cast a look though toward B'ky, since his own dragon seems quite content to cozy up with Avideth, for all his unmanly bugling. K'shan though, simply approaches B'ky…and then quite promptly latches his arms around the bluerider's neck, hugging tight….and then lets go just as quickly, lurching away. Nobody saw that. Really.
Faraeth lines up beside Kinseth at the next largest block, turning his head for firestone. The brown chews careful, cheered on by his earstwhile rider and the sounds of Istan cheers. It's a long moment before the flaming gas finally bubbles up within the mountainous brown.
"That's the spirit!" M'lo says encouragingly to Irelanth as his pale, freckled brown makes a good show of it. He feeds him some more firestone and steps out of the way.
Meo grins. "Good flame Furuihaneth!" She cheers, and gets ready to feed another chunk of fire stone to the brown. She watches the other three flame, and grin at M'lo, before she feeds the next one.
The large brown bugles bursting forth another belch of flame, "That's it, Farry. Show that ice who's boss!"
Another chunk of firestone, and Irelanth gamely chews it and swallows it down. There's a pause and then he tries again.
Furuihaneth trumpets after his secondd bout of flame. "Come on Furu. lets see if we can't do better!" She says, and feeds the big brown another chunk.
X'hil gives Kinseth a stern look as the bronze starts to chew. "Thaaat's the way. Keep chewing!" he says, nodding slowly. "Okay, okay. I think that's enough… No, don't, don't look up in the stands, just flame." he cautions Kinseth, just as Cenlia calls out 'Sir Kinseth!' The bronze turns his head briefly, flicking it very quickly back to the ice, and letting out a brief belch of flame. X'hil sighs, and shakes his head. "It's okay. Try again, here." he soothes the bronze, holding out another block already.
M'nol fishes out another chunk of firestone. For a moment Faraeth seems determined not to chew again, but he finally rumbles, chewing through several more large rocks before his next flame.
The crowd around Tawny cheers loudly for the Fortian dragons that are performing so well. "Woo! GO FORT!"
"You can do it, Irelanth!" M'lo says, hauling out another chunk of stone for his dragon to chew.
Meo cheers as the ice melted more. "Let's go Furu!" She says, and feeds him another.
"WOAH!! Look at Furuihaneth's flame!! That was amazing! I haven't ever seen a flame that big!" Roars one spectator
A'fiel reclines, at his ease against the forelegs of his lifemate, arms crossed as he watches the browns and bronze flame for all their worth. "Now that," he remarks, "is quite the spectacle. Not that I mind that you wouldn't manage distances like that, love." he uncoils enough to pat a hand on Valliereth's forearm. He's silent again, watching, although no doubt in his mind, he's rooting on the Istan dragons.
Faraeth seems to shrink a little. Pathetic. He gives Morl a sad little look on a big, towering mountain as he demands more stone before flaming again.
Back to the firestone sack, for another rock. M'lo hands it up to his dragon, avoiding the drool that drips from Irelanth's jaws.
Meo grins, and feeds Furu another chunk of firestone out of the sack on his shoulder. Come on, they can win this!
X'hil closes his eyes briefly as Kinseth lets loose another flame that's slightly on the small side, and grimaces. "It's /okay/." he says, though the words come across a little strained. "Really. Slow and steady might be /just/ what we need. You can recover!" he's encouraging Kinseth, though he keeps glancing back at the ice block, as though doubting it can be defeated. "Here, have another. Chew, and flame."
"Just you wait! Kinseth is going to be saving up his flame while those browns flame their tails off! Ista is going to win this one. Then it's over. They won't even -have- to have a third round!" Says another spectator.
M'lo grabs an enormous stone, using both of his arms to haul it up. The Weyrlings get a slightly annoyed look for not having broken it up into a more manageable size. Irelanth isn't bothered by the largess, and chomps away.
Faraeth emits another over-small flame makes both rider and dragon wilt a little. Their time in the harper hall has obviously left them out of practice. Still, they try again, M'nol choosing an especially large stone for the brown.
X'hil whoops, and punches the air, even though Kinseth's latest flame was not really a patch on some of the brown's flames. "That's the way! Keep that up!" he cheers, grinning. "Flame away!" It seems the man is most excited about this upturn in fortunes, as he forgets to warn Kinseth to chew when handing the next block over.
"Almost done!" M'lo says, and gives Irelanth another piece of firestone. "Just a litte more, my friend."
Furuihaneth gives a snorrt as his ice block is melted. Meo backs his neck. "Good job Furuihaneth, and Go M'lo, and Irelanth!"
Faraeth gives another huge bugle, finally some decent flame. Three more huge chunks of stone are chewed before the brown makes one last effort.
"And there's a killer blow!" Roars an orange clad Istan fan.
Ely strips off her gloves, tucking them under her arm as she watches the competition. Sticking her fingers between her lips, she lets out a shrill whistle of encouragement. "Go Milo!" she calls out, lifting a fist in the air as she cheers, "Go Fort!" Maglinoth, settled on the sidelines, lets out a croon of encouragement.
Kinseth practically inhales the offered stone, chewing just briefly, before letting loose an impressive belch of flame. FWOOOSH! X'hil can't help himself, he jumps up and down, "See! See? I knew you had it in you! Keep it up!" he grins, grabbing another rock for the bronze to chew on.
B'ky might just look a little surprised, at seeing the smile on the greenrider's face. But then K'shan is giving him a /hug/ and - really, the bluerider looks just slightly /astonished/. And promptly brings his arms around to grab the greenie in a snug. Or as much of one as he can manage with K'shan lurching away again so quickly. Still, B'ky's smile remains for the greenrider, as he tells him, "I'm glad you both entered," tilting his head toward the flaming dragons. Watching the games? Well, B'ky might be, out of the corner of his eye.
X'hil's enthusiasm is /slightly/ dampened by Kinseth's smaller flame, but he still seems to be on a high from the larger gout just before. "It's okay, oookay, you can do it!" he encourages the bronze, as he reaches into the sack and pulls out the last bit of firestone. "Blow that ice away! Show it who the mightiest dragon on Pern is!" he encourages.
M'nol watches the ice melt and glances at the other ice blocks. They were all so close.
X'hil grins, and pats Kinseth on the neck. "There's a good solid flame. Like I said, slow and steady." he says, glancing over towards the referees, a little anxiously. "How'd we do?" he wonders, and then quickly shakes his head, "No, no. We were good. We were better than good." he says firmly, as though saying so would make it true.
"Yeah, GO ISTA!" Cenlia hollars, maybe just a bit sheepish there, though bobbing her head in agreement with F'yr. "Yeah!" she laughs, having watched Kinseth closely while the dragons flamed. "GO X'HIL!" she cheers, though really, her over-enthusiasm has to die down eventually, the girl half-rising from her seat before another spectator elbows her. Grinning crookedly, the girl drops back down and just.. grins.
M'lo and Irelanth hang their heads and walk off the field. Irelanth heads for Maglinoth, and M'lo heads for Ely. "Shells," he swears.
K'shan does look vaguely embarrassed by the entire thing, but at least he doesn't seem outright grouchy about it. He does instead watch the round as it comes to a close, shrugging with a glance at B'ky again. "Nawyth insisted.. Otherwise I wouldn't have." After all, he didn't rally do anything but throw rocks in her gullet. There's a small frown though, glancing back out as the round draws to a very unfortunate end. "Hmph."
Faraeth gives another heartfelt bugle as he stalks off the field towards the Istan dragons where he finally allows his rider to dismount to run back to the Istan lines waving his little flag, "Wow. I'd forgotten how amazing Kinseth was!"
The judges all seem to mark their tallies, some commenting about Furu, "If she went in the next round, would've given Fort a win easily." Then they're chatting and nodding about the displays of the Istans. Finally they approach the main ref and with the tallies in hand, the ref turns toward the crowd. His arms wave in the air, "The clear winner in this round is Ista, with both of their dragons showing quite clearly the power in the nature of a dragon. If they had to fly Thread today, we would all need not worry! But the Fortians showed their dexterity in the sport and should be applauded just the same! With the points of this round going to Ista, it is clear that it is they who shall be taking home the victory of the winter games. The third round does not have to be carried forward." If everyone does a quick tally in their heads, Ista 3, Fort 1.. and only one more possible point.
Tawlani's nose wrinkles and she shakes her head. Whispering something to G'ber, and a few other people, they all seem to be in agreeance that it's not fair, but nothing can be done about it. Meo should have gotten another flame, to truly have made it fair. Tawny gets up and mumbles congratulations to some nearby exuberant Istans before she and G'ber get down and head over to the living cavern.
Shory jumps to her feet waving that obnoxious flag again, "ISTA!"
X'hil gives an almighty /cheer/! "WOO! ISTAAA—ahem." he cuts himself off quickly, shooting a brief glance at Kinseth, before hurrying off of the field. Kinseth flies off a little ways to watch the proceedings, and stink of firestone /downwind/ of the bleachers. Meanwhile, X'hil is making a direct line for Cenlia in the bleachers, grinning like a loon. "We did it! Kinseth did well! He didn't /win/, but he didn't /lose/ either. He needs more of that." he notes, with a glance in the general direction of the overly large bronze. "…he definitely does."
Meo and Furuihaneth look disappointed as they leave the field loosers, and and head for their weyr.
Ely grits her teeth and lets out a swear almost in time with M'lo's, "/Shards/." As though it might make a difference, she glares at the Istan side before reaching out to squeeze M'lo's arm, "We'll beat them next time, love. We got the summer games, atleast." But even with those words, she still sounds disappointed - her Bitran competitive nature has not been satisfied. Glancing once more at the crowd, she looks back to her weyrmate, scowling, "Want to get out of here before they start carting out the orange and black?"
"No need to kick us while we're down," M'lo says, gripping Ely's hand. He nods in agreement with her suggestion. "Let's go home. We can commiserate our loss over some wine." He bends to whisper something in her ear. Irelanth snorts and turns toward the lake for a nice swim to wash away the stink of firestone. The dragon knows that next time, he'll do better.
Pralius inches cautiously towards Milo and ely, "Could I… get a ride back to my- Wyn's and my weyr? No matter how hard I flap I seem to have issue getting up there under my own power."
Shory carts out the proverbial and less than proverbial orange and black, tossing a huge handful of confetti out onto the gathered before moving off for parties and booze. Booooze….
A'fiel's first goes skywards then, a loud whoop of noise from the Weyrlingmaster's Assistant. "All right, Ista takes it." He's sure looking cheerfully pleased, considering he's not been at that particular Weyr very long. Still, he's proud for the place he's come to call home. "And you did fine, lovey," Valliereth gets some praise for her spectacular final spurt of flame, given her size. It might not have been as impressive as what the spectators just saw, but it was good. "Let's round up any of the younger Candidates if there's any here," he informs the green, stepping from her side. "Just to keep them in line. A bit of a party won't hurt them, but we'd want to make sure they don't get anything they're not supposed to." And off they go, into the crowd. Excuse me… green dragon coming through
Satisfied on a fundamental level that no injuries were had, Galina starts to depart, headed for the living caverns — or perhaps further, to scrub the lingering smell of wafted firestone off. While those healers posted to Fort might be feeling dejected, she seems nonplussed. Typical. But, then, there's work to be done still and studying and, of course, getting food and a bath before things are utterly zonkers in the caverns.
"She did well, all the same," B'ky comments, glancing over at Nawyth. Avideth rumbles his agreement, though there is then a bit of a disappointed whuff from the blue. Alas, they don't get to BURNINATE. The games are ended. B'ky blinks a little, perhaps suddenly having realized Ista's won, but he only lets out a breath and shakes his head gently, "Ah well, perhaos next time." Is he terribly surprised? Perhaps not. Especially with that soft smile on his face. A glance is sent towards the caverns, although it's to K'shan he suggests, "I imagine something warm, and sweet, ah, might be lovely about now." Making up for the loss with klah and cookies? Perhaps.
K'shan sighs just a bit, and Nawyth gives a mournful little chuff of air as well. How rude, not to finish! Still, the greenrider shakes his head a little, simply glancing at B'ky with a slight lifting of a brow. "..I suppose it would."
