Myziri, J'ran


Spelunking. IN THE DARK!

mild profanity, mild violence


It is before dawn of the twenty-second day of the fifth month of the seventh turn of the 12th pass.


South Point Island Plateau, Southern Continent

OOC Date 17 Mar 2016 05:00


jran02.jpg myziri02.jpg

South Point Island Plateau

From the height of this plateau, one is given a vantage point of much of the island, the most distinguishable landmark being the sandy shoal that points nearly due south. Down a hundred feet or so, one can see the beach, the bright white sands stretching into the turquoise lagoon that is on the north end of the island. Reefs can be seen darkening the waters along the lagoon, leaving only a single pathway in, just barely big enough to allow a ship into. Deeper into the island is a large rift that splits the island into two, darkness fills it though hints of trees and other plant life can be seen. A little ways in from the edge of the platau, a small stream bubbles up from the rock and spills over in a cascade of water as it heads towards the lagoon.

All is still in the wee hours of the night, or very early morning depending on who you ask - dawn is just a glimmer on the horizon, either way. It's chilly, for Southern, made more so by conspicuously clear skies free of the usual lowering clouds. Stars twinkle in the sky and the twin moons' light bathes the landscape with an eerie glow. Into this panorama, two green dragons blink out of ::between:: and immediately zoom low against the plateau; one of them is moonscaped herself and blends easily. The other is brighter, but small and easily lost to sight as well. Neither announces it's presence, nor do their riders. Seems a couple of Lynx wingmates are up to…what?

J'ran slips down Yerenath's side and lands silently of the soft turf of the plateau, his usual uniform in the Weyr's colors absent and his normally pale blonde hair and fair skin darkened with a dusting of soot to disguise himself more than just his simple black garb would do. There is the faintest sound of fabric brushing against tall grasses but it could be attributed to the wind if there were anyone around at o-dark-thirty. He glances toward his partner and jerks his head toward a taller clump of brush further from the two greens flattening themselves into non-descript hummocks on the plateau before heading that direction himself.

Being darkhaired, Myziri has no need of covering her head, nor to disguise skin already tanned dark by Southern's sun. She also wears dark leathers made just for this purpose - supple, easy to maneuver in, but functional as well against both cold and potential attack. She makes no sound as she drops to the ground from off Sahizath's back and moves to to where J'ran indicates, bow and arrows and beltknives in their respective places. She moves with stealth learned from Rocio, but with observance of her surroundings as well. Only when she reaches the disguising brush does she relax her vigilance - slightly - and wait for J'ran to arrive. When he does, she smiles. "So far, so good." Kept low, her words carry nowhere beyond where she means. "Where to?"

J'ran arrives just a few moments after Myziri and drops into a crouch in the deeper darkness of the brush's shadow. His laughter is a bare whisper as his white teeth flash against his smudged skin, his smile showing how much he's enjoying himself even if it is a serious thing they are doing. "Last time we were here Yer spotted a dark spot just over the edge of the rift … might be a cave. We were just doing a fly-by though so I couldn't investigate further." His voice is just as low as his companion's though the sibilants make him sound like he's out of breath since he spaces them to fit within the shushing of the prevailing wind through the grasses.

"I can't believe you've been here several times without me. Being wingsecond sucks, sometimes." Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork! "Sahizath and I only got here twice, and only as fly bys ourselves.." Hushed whisper cuts off as she tilts her head to a sound heard, then shrugs - just some small animal in the underbrush. "Let's go check out that cave…Lead the way, Jor." Because he knows where it is, and she doesn't."

J'ran's teeth flash again in that 'sucks to be you' grin Myziri is probably used to getting from him when she gripes about being wingsecond. The rustling of the underbrush jerks his head around to stare in the direction it came from. He relaxes after a few moments when it turns out to be nothing big, he hopes. A nod is given when she suggests he lead the way as the young man pushes himself to his feet and peers around to be sure they are still alone before leading the way to the edge of the rift. The dragons hadn't landed too far from where he'd wanted them to put down so it doesn't take all that long to get to the crumbling edge where he kneels and peers over to search for a way down to the deeper darkness he can see just to their left.

Myziri sticks her tongue out in that 'yeah yeah, Mr. No Responsibility,' kind of way that serves as a silent 'fuck you,' too; then she's following in his wake as he heads toward the edge of the rift - close enough to have his back, but not so close that it would hinder her if she needed to defend. Since nothing does, she reaches his side and peers downward as well "Going there, are we? Looks black as fuck. You bring a torch?" Myziri's prepared (like a good scout type person), but maybe she's testing his preparedness too (like a bitch of a wingsecond). "And firestarter? We'll need both, we're going in to a cave." She grins then, eyes alight with excitement at this stealthy adventure "remember last time, we explored a cave together?" Smile fades some, as she remembers - she remembers as well who she shared some of those spoils with, and how their last meeting went; badly. A hand lifts, idly rubs at her other arm as if soothing a sore spot; an unconscious gesture.

J'ran is so used to the silent banter between them that he merely huffs a soft snort as he goes toward the edge, knowing she'll have his back if necessary. Her questions earn a faint frown as he twists his head quizzically at her. "And kill your night-sight? Not a chance. I got some glows and couple black-out lanterns so we won't be in total darkness." Turning back to examine the rift-face in the intermittent moonslight, he shifts to his right several feet before slipping over the edge on the barest ridge of a walkway. Sidling along that ridge, he works his way toward the cave as it slopes down right to the place he's aiming for.

"I'm not going to want night sight in the cave, idiot." Myziris says affectionately. "I'm going to want to see." Because caves? Not her favorite things "If it's deep. If it's not, glows'll do." But then he's gone again, and she moves in his exact steps, slipping over the edge as well and working her way toward the cave in his wake, halting behind him silently with one hand out to touch his back, so he knows she's there. Then she gives him a little nudge as if to say 'go on, already,' even as she looks around to make sure they aren't being watched. All seems to be clear, if her spidey sense, i.e., the fine hairs on the back of her neck, are in good working order.

Having paused just at the edge of the cave to peer inside, J'ran nudges back at Myziri to be patient as he strains to listen and see what might be further back in the darkness. Finally he moves on, swinging around the edge of the opening to step inside and dig into the pack slung over across his chest and bumping against his hip to fish out the lanterns and his firestriker. It doesn't take long to get both lit and he adjusts them so that a beam of warm golden light shines out similar to a Terran LED flashlight that doesn't interfere with their nightsight. "I'd rather not take the chance of the torchlight setting the entry aglow, Myz. These should be good enough though." Handing one to his companion, he shines his own around deeper into the cave so that the light illuminates the rough walls and a twisting passage deeper into the plateau that slopes downward gradually.

Myziri looks skeptically at the blackout lanterns, but takes the one he hands to her. "Whatever. If something jumps out at me and I scream like a girl because I didn't see it, I'm going to kill you, Jor." She hiss-whispers at him, but follows him into the cave nonetheless. "I'd still rather have a torch.." she mutters to herself - the better to burn up anything that does jump out at her. She creeps along slowly, adjusting to the sensation of being swallowed, like going down a throat into the bowels of the earth. "Ugh. I hate caves.." This her last comment before she goes silent, ears and eyes straining for dangers that may lay ahead.

Her hissed whisper makes J'ran laugh though he keeps the volume down. "Then why did you come? I told you we were going to check out a cave we'd seen." Moving his lantern along the walls a little longer, he determines there isn't anything of interest here and moves toward that smaller opening. Ducking his head to keep from knocking it on the jutting rock of the low ceiling, he steps into that opening and finds it to be just wider than his shoulders and only about ten feet long.

"I didn't want to miss out on all the fun." Myziri whispers back dryly. "No cave's gonna stop me from having a good time." No, only one who does that is Myziri. She ducks in the narrow opening more easily than he, despite not being narrow-shouldered herself, and pauses next to him, lifting her lantern high "Is this it?" There's almost disappointment in her tone.

J'ran keeps his ears and eyes both straining for any sound or motion beyond the beam of his lantern until he reaches the end of that little tunnel. The end being another chamber about twice the size of the entrance that they'd come in by. Hearing the disappointment in his friend's voice, he chuckles and lifts the cover on his lantern so that more light is exposed from the reflector. "No … I think we might have found something here …" he drawls, his light flickering off a half dozen crates and a couple canvas bags.

"The plot thickens…" Myziri says dramatically as she follows J'ran, spots the crates and bags. "Think we've found some of the stolen goods?" She wonders, poking with a toe at one of the bags - making sure it's not a dead body, maybe. "You want to take a looksee? I'll stand guard, just in case." And because this is J'ran's show, he gets to decide what they found! She turns, moving closer to the other entrance, her lantern behind her as a backlight so that her eyes can adjust to the dimness in front.

"Could be." J'ran says as he sets his lantern on one of the crates so he can open one of the bags, his deft fingers untying the knot around the open end. "Thanks, Myz. But I don't think we're in danger of being snuck up on." It's the middle of the night, after all! Turning down the open end of that sack, he peers in before pulling out a few of the items on the very top to inspect and check against the memorized list of items missing. "Hey, Myz … does this look like one of the necklaces on the list? Seemed like there was a lot of jewelry on that list …" So much that he has a hard time remembering all the descriptions. "And wasn't there a … bundle of handkerchiefs or napkins on that list?" He thinks it's an odd thing to steal but who knows, maybe there is a market for stolen linen too.

"I'd rather be safe than sorry." Myziri replies, eyes still on that entrance. She's feeling kinda…antsy. Her glance back to the cache is quick, nodding "Looks maybe like it could be." Which is really not affirmative at all, and all kinds of nongrammatical, but hey! She's a bit on edge, here. "Might as well take it back, see. I mean, who's it gonna hurt? The thieves?" As if she cares. Her gaze goes back to the entrance to the dead-end (DEAD END!) cavern they are in. "Look in one of the crates. Maybe it's booze." Myziri's kind of treasure. And then? Those hairs at the back of her neck all rise up on their tippytoes and Myziri stiffens. "Uh…J'ran? Might want to douse the lights." Because she's pretty sure she heard something "Unless animals can talk, I think your theory of no danger might have been kinda premature." Her own light is doused almost immediately she says these words, and she moves to the side of the opening.

you rifle through the contraband, and after Myziri's warning, if you listen close you can hear the faintest echoes of voices, two of them, coming closer.

J'ran grunts softly and tucks the necklace and the small bundle of embroidered fabric into his satchel before tying the sack back up the way it had been so that he can investigate one of the crates. Prying the top off with the blade of his belt knife, he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. "No booze in this one." Sorry, Myz! He moves his lanter to aim the light into the crate a bit more easily and frowns. "What kind of smugglers steal clothes, for Faranth's sake?" While the garments are pretty and make him just a bit envious since they are colors his alter egos would look good in, he's just boggled by that fact. He's a little slow on the uptake when Myziri makes that warning, a vague grunt being given initially before his brain catches up and he gasps as those soft voices impinge upon his hearing. The lantern is shielded which plunges them into darkness once more, his nightsight having been eroded while looking through the contraband making him fumble a bit as he pushes back to his feet, dagger in hand as he squints to let his vision adjust faster.

"I have no idea who'd want clothes and shit. Maybe they have womenfolk here who like to dress up - or more men like you." Myziri says, looking at J'ran impatiently "Someone's coming! Hide, or let them see us?" Myziri hisses back, her own eyes adjusting quickly now that there's little light available - or none as the case may be. Except a dim glow that slowly gets brighter even as those voices get louder. Myziri is shielded by the wall, so they won't be able to see her right away, but J'ran's still standing by those crates "At least go for surprise, Jor. Move!" As in, take cover. Her own knives are out, one in each hand, and she's thinking furiously - T'ral said no killing, but surely wounding would be the way to go. "Should I use my arrows on them? Wound em?" All this said in hushed whispers, of course; unlike those coming in to the cavern, who are speaking in normal voices - at least one of them.

"I'm telling you, there ain't no one around this time of night, Pulk. You're hearing and seeing things. Too much booze." Falko had been sound asleep when his buddy had shaken him awake, so his tones are sour indeed at having to traipse out into the cold. It's his voice that's loud - and whiny. His nervous-looking companion is being more cautious. Even as he holds the torch up high, he's got his knife out "I'm tellin you, I saw something move across the moon. I think it was a dragon." Stubborn, he is. "Haven't had a drink tonight, and you know it. Besides, better safe than sorry." He uncannily echoes Myziri's words. "You know boss'll have our hides, we lose this stuff when we're supposed to be guarding."

J'ran edges quietly behind the crates to hide and reaches out to tug Myziri with him now that he can finally see a bit better in the dark. "No … let's hope they go away but if we have to, we'll take 'em by surprise." Even riders as slight as he and Myziri are a lot stronger than most non-riders and a fair match for those non-riders built more like R'ik and Sa'mael. As those voices grow closer, he pats his hand in the air to indicate silence and stares in the direction the sounds are coming from, relying on his soot-darkened face and hair to keep him from being easily seen behind those crates.

Pulk's a bandy-legged midget compared to his companion; but Falko is as skinny as a rail with his height. Neither looks to be a major fighter, both look fairly ragged and unkempt, as if they'd been living rough for a while. Both of them are armed, however, with long, sharp knives. When J'ran pulls her back behind the crates, she goes silently; even so, the ever vigilent Pulk stops, strains. "There's someone in there, I know it." He growls, pointing the torch toward the back cavern from where they stand in the middle of the first. "Digging through our stuff!" Falko just shakes his head, wishing for his warm bed. "Bet it's just tunnelsnakes or something else like that, looking for a bite to eat." But he follows his companion bravely enough, knife at the ready. They come closer…..

Myziri moves as silently as possible, but she might have hit her bow's tip on one of the crates, enough to make a scraping sound. She freezes in place as soon as she does it, and winces when the two intruders (or are she and J'ran the intruders?) stop and listen, then the little one says he hears something. "Fuck.." the barest of whispers, that word, and she crouches down with J'ran behind the crates, trying to see through a crack in front of her without making herself visible "You take the tall one, if it comes to that." she breathes, her knives at the ready. "Take em alive, unless you've no other option." As in, it's either J'ran or the other guy.'

J'ran frowns at that faintest of scrapes of Myziri's bowtip against a crate and looks sharply in her direction but doesn't say anything since her own hiss indicates her annoyance. He nods at her suggestion though he slips his own knife back into its sheath so he doesn't accidentally use it if it comes to a fight.

Pulk and Falko hesitate in the entrance to the second cavern, that torch thrust through first so they can get a good look, but all it does it cast shadows over the crates. Falko frowns "I don't see nothing. You?" Pulk stares into the shadows, then slowly shakes his head. "No, but I heard something. Better go check it out." He'll wait right here….Falko shoves him "Fuck that. If I go, you go. Pulk gives him an unhappy look, but nods shortly. He steps forward, almost in unison, with his taller companion. Both of their knives are up and they head much, much too close to the crates for them to not eventually see the two hiding behind them. In fact, "Hey! Look!" That stupid torch did it's job - this time the shadow it casts is one slightly human shaped….."Get em!" Because surely only a foe would be hiding, right?

Myziri shakes her head at J'ran as he puts up his knife - she puts her small one away, but keeps out the larger, flipping it so that the haft is outward and the blade along her wrist - if nothing else, it'll make her punches that much stronger, and she can do some pretty good head thunking with the hilt. And then the jigs up, and she's gonna put that to the test - as the cry to 'get them' sounds, she grins ferally at J'ran "Sounds like a plan, don't you think?" At which point, she's launching herself over the crates, but not directly at the little guy - no, she's going for a down low and sideways attack.

J'ran is just an instant behind his friend, his fists balled into fists as he leaps for the taller Falko. "Absolutely!" is grunted as the gangly smuggler swipes at him with that knife, his arm sweeping down to block that strike with the outside of his wrist so that he can bodyslam the man that is just a bit lighter than himself. His momentum sends the renegade smacking into the wall as J'ran bulls on ahead, Falko's head bouncing off the rock wall to stun the man briefly. Getting his balance back after that somewhat off-balance attack, the greenrider wrests the man's knife from limp fingers and only just gets it away before his opponent shakes off that stunning and starts fighting back.

Pulk, alas, isn't quite prepared to handle a side assault. He's lunged forward, see, to where he saw the female crouching and so he's off balance. When she comes at him from the side, he topples over - but he's not out yet. He sweeps the torch at her and Myziri backs out of the way with the agile facility of a feline. Then she's going back in, even as Pulk scrambles to his knees, his knife at the ready. All of those defense lessons have paid off, because she's able to sweep the knife aside with one arm, never mind that it's sharp enough to cut through her leather and nick her skin, and ignores the glancing blow the bandy-legged man gets to her cheek (that's gonna leave a bruise!); she brings her own knife hilt down on the man's noggin with a decided 'clunk' sound. Just as she had planned. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite take him out. So Myziri does what any wise woman wound do. She brings a leg back and 'wham!' - right in the danglies. Pulk lets out a squeaky little grunt of surprise and then collapses, both hands going to his family jewels. Myziri, panting, looks over to see how J'ran's fairing, even as she pulls out cording from her pouch with which to tie up her own villain. "You okay?" she gasps out, only now being able to feel the sting of that cut - which is a lot deeper than it had seemed just seconds earlier.

There is a bit of a struggle going on for that long knife J'ran had taken from Falko, it seems the smuggler wants it back and is determined to take it. A bit of dirty fighting later and the greenrider gasps in pain as Falko hits a nerve bundle making him drop the blade, right into the man's waiting hand. Dammit! A lefthanded punch isn't all that strong. He's really got to work on that! Even though that abused hand starts working properly again, J'ran still has to jump back from a couple vicious swipes before he bulls in again with a right hook that sends his opponent reeling back into that wall head-first. "Yeah … you?" He fishes around in his satchel for some strong cording before roughly flipping Falko onto his belly to tie the man's hands behind his back. He'll feel those cuts later but for now, his black clothing masks the blood seeping through.

Myziri's cruel - she's hogtied poor Pulk so that he can't even cup his abused nuts. She grins at J'ran, appreciative "Very nicely done. You think T'ral will be pleased, we come back with more than just loot?" She's feeling pretty good right now, despite the drip, drip, drip of her blood hitting the cave floor. Adrenaline is still at play, keeping most of the pain of that wound away. "Question is, how are we gonna get them out of here? Drag or carry? Should we have the dragons come closer, you think? Would be less of a trip if one of them could get in the rift." She ponders the problem, looks down again, and only then seems to realize "Shit. I'm bleeding."

J'ran pushes to his feet after securing Falco they way he'd learned from his cousins when they'd tied up the older boys that bullied him, the anger fading as he flashes a grin at her. "Thanks." He considers the questions and tilts his head toward the entry as he considers what to do. "I hadn't really planned on bringing more than a sample back to see if it matched the list but I think T'ral will be pleased that the guards have a couple more prisoners to question. Falko is starting to stir which makes him look down at the man with another frown before he rummages out that bundle of kerchiefs and tosses a few to Myziri. "Here … gag 'em. Don't need them raising the alarm when we're trying to take that narrow walkway. Yerenath is at the edge of the rift. When we get up there and secure these two, we can come back and pull these up with the ropes on Yer's straps." Stuffing one kerchief into Falko's mouth, he secures it in place with the other two knotted together. Glancing back at his friend when she comments on bleeding, he frowns and looks from the blood drops to her and nods. "I'll tie it up here in a sec." He has yet to notice the faint tingling on his outer forearm or his shoulder but he will as soon as the adrenaline stops flooding his bloodstream.

Myziri catches the cloth squares and pinches Pulk's nose until he's almost turning purple, at which point he opens his mouth to breath and she easily stuffs one of them into his mouth, using another larger one to tie it in place. She does the same to Falko, and if she takes a wee bit of pleasure in the task, well. She's all pumped, yo. She straightens, then uses the last one to cover the cut on her arm and stem the bleeding, since it's now reached the proportions of stuck pig sort of flow. "It'd be cool if we could take it all, don't you think? Or do you think it's better not to let them know we've been here?" She frowns, then nods "The latter. Let's just look in all the crates and stuff, tkae a few small things and make a mental list of anything big, and take these louts in. Maybe their comrades will think they've just run away or something." It's a plan, right? Does it sound like a good plan? "I think we can make it look like we've never been here, yeah?"

J'ran turns back to the crates once he's assured that their two captives won't be causing problems and moves to retrieve his lantern so he can open it once more. Pulling his belt knife once more, he pries open a second crate and pulls out some tableware made of pure silver if his reading of the marks on the backside of the handle is correct. "Yeah, I'd like to take it all back but with them I think this much stuff is probably too much for our dragons." He checks in on his green once more and sighs. "Yer says the sun is rising … we need to be gone as soon as possible." Glancing toward his friend as she binds up her wound, he considers the situation for a moment before her blood staining the floor draws his gaze as it glistens in the lantern light. "Kick some dirt over that but try to make it not seem to be scuffed up if you can, Myz. I'm going to check one more crate and then we'll get out of here." Despite his companion being the higher ranked of them, he is trained in disguising himself and cleaning up places he's been, right?

"I was planning to do that, as soon as I stopped adding to it." Myziri ties up the makeshift bandage, nodding towards the blood spatter. She kicks dirt over it, trying to make it as neat as possible, then glances over to where J'ran's working "Keep a few pieces of that silver." She indicates, her expression regretful. "You'll remember where this is, right? So we can mark it on the map." Because it's a pretty big find. "I'm gonna haul the little one out, can you manage the big'un?" She nudges Falko with the toe of her boot, before going about making the rest of the cavern look as untouched as possible, retrieving her own lantern and opening it before dousing the torch by rolling it in the dirt since it was already half gone anyway, from lying there so long.

J'ran chuckles softly and nods. "I figured Rocio might teach you that sort of thing but I wasn't sure." Several of the silver items are tucked into his satchel, the small pack filling up pretty fast. "Yeah, I can manage him. That one gives you any problems, toss him in the rift. No one will miss one like him, anyway." There is a hardness to his tone that isn't usually there but it can be forgiven giving their situation. The pommel of his knife is used to hammer the lids back onto the crates he opens so that it looks the way they'd found it, the way the sack sits adjusted slightly to hide the fact that the fastening isn't in exactly the same place as it had been. "Yeah, I'll remember it. No worries." Pulling out a loose piece of fabric, he drags it on the floor to wipe away their footprints and scuffmarks as he moves back to where Falko lays and kicks the man less than gently to get him on his feet. "Make a noise or try to escape, scum, and I have no problem shoving you over the edge. Got it?" Shoving the man backwards, he continues clearing signs of their presence until they are out on the small ledge. The cloth gets tossed over the edge so that the greenrider can get Falko moving along that walkway to where they can step out onto the plateau again, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

"I don't just exercise my mouth, you know." Myziri says, her tone gleefully cheerful - it's been a good night, all in all, even if she did end up with a cut that's likely going to need stitches. "There's a reason I've been working on my muscles." So saying, and without any concern for her wound, she adjusts Pulk's bonds so that he's an easy fireman's carry; bending at the knee and getting him positioned just so, she heaves and gets him in place, gasping a bit as she staggers upward, thigh muscles straining "Fuck, he's heavier than he looks." She grunts out, then grins with success as she manages to stay afoot. "There. See you back at the dragons." She's gonna leave J'ran to finish up, it seems and begins to walk carefully toward the cavern, the lantern held in one hand and the bandy-legged marauder over the opposite shoulder as J'ran does his cleany up thing. Sahizath is there, of course, waiting to have her lifemate's load shoved up on her back and strapped down. "Won't be a comfortable ride, and likely terrify the shit out of you, you've never been ::between:: before, but you'll live." She provides helpful? encouragment to her prisoner, even as she does up her straps and then secures Pulk. She douses her lantern as she wait's for J'ran to go through the same procedure of securing baggage.

When J'ran and his prisoner reach the plateau, Falko gets a hard shove toward the smaller of the greens when he hesitates in what seems like fear. It doesn't take long for the greenrider to get the smuggler lashed down like so much baggage so that he can climb to his position. "Ready to get back? T'ral won't be as happy for having prisoners if we're late for our checkin. And you need to see a Healer for that cut." Now that the adrenaline is fading, he slouches and rubs his arm. His fingers come away wet with blood that make him frown as the cut beneath his sleeve starts to sting. "Me too, I guess."

"Hey, a little cut won't kill us." Myziri grins at her bestie and wingmate, then gives Sahizath the word. The darkling green immediately launches upwards, but not high - she cuts it close, going only up as far as she feels is safe for going between and, without giving any warning to her rider's poor tagalong, disappears, leaving J'ran to follow. Pulk screams into the void of ::between::, where no one can hear (or cares), and then they are back in the marginally warmer air above the bowl, circling downward "Oh, shut it." Myziri grumbles and nudges her captive, since he's still screaming "Little girls have shrieked less over a little trip ::between::" she remonstrates, her tone a bit irritable as her arm begins to throb.

As Yerenath comes out of between Falko is making a bigger fuss than Pulk about that trip though the gag muffles most of the man's shrieking. His eyes are frozen shut since the idiot started crying the moment the small green launched skyward, apparently he's scared of heights. J'ran kicks at the man tied to his dragon's straps, Yerenath grumbling in annoyance as she cranes her head around at her burden as she dives for a swift landing. "Shut up or I'll just cut you loose here," he growls through gritted teeth, a headache blossoming as soon as they come out of between.

Sahizath lands not far from the guards' barracks at her rider's behest, settling her wings even as Myziri unstraps Pulk who, while not shrieking anymore, has made a mess of his trousers; a dark stain covers the front where his bladder has been released by terror and the earlier insult to his danglies. As that last strap is undone, he slides right off the green's back and hits the ground with a "whump," knocking the breath out of him. Myz breathes a sigh of relief "Fuck, I thought he'd never shut up." She raises a hand to a guard on duty outside the barracks, jumping down with a wince when it jars her arm, and indicates the sad lump of shit on the ground "Got a prisoner for you. If you could lock him up for me, I'd appreciate it. Oh, and J'ran's got one too." She indicates the other green, the blubbering Falco, even as Pulk's feet are unbound and he's chivied to his feet. "Thanks, man."

J'ran slides down his green's side and tugs the ropes securing Falco to Yerenath's straps until the man flops onto the ground as well though he reaches down to haul the man upright before shoving him toward the guards. "Dangle this one off the Star Stones and he'll tell you anything you want to know." The greenrider nods and manages a grimace that could be a smile for the man in thanks as he lifts a hand to rub at his temple. He sighs as his dragon hops skyward again to glide back to the main area of the bowl to bask in the rising sun while he turns toward Myziri. "Let's go check in and go see the Healers, huh? I need something for a headache." Maybe not in that order, but it sounds good, right?

"Yeah…I think we've done enough for one night." Myziri yawns, then grimaces again. "Ugh. Arm hurts like a bitch. And it's bleeding again." It's soaked through the makeshift bandage, indeed, a crimson stain. "Maybe get some pie, too. And sleep for the rest of the day." Because she's suddenly hungry and tired. She links her arm through J'ran's, heading off to track down T'ral "Betcha we can take care of both the healer and T'ral all in one go. Bet he's still with Catryn and all. Wasn't she about to pop?"

J'ran's left hand is clenching and unclenching unconsciously as he tries to keep from admitting his arm hurts as much as it does. He grunts in response to her comment and glances down to see that crimson stain, not really wanting to think about his own cut. "Oh yeah, I guess she was. Well, at least if he's there with Catryn or a baby he won't yell at us too much for getting hurt." He manages a faint smile as he feels a wash of weariness flow through him and nods in agreement. "Yeah … lets do that." With no further lagging, he forces himself to move a bit faster so that they can get to the Healers, report to T'ral and hopefully get back to bed soon.

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