Who

C'sei, Harriet, Kebra, Ephrem, Brynn, Nasrin, Korsan, Tyzana, Aztrexia, Ealasaid, Veresch, M'tej, Renric (NPC), Micyn (NPC), Sameld (NPC)

What

C'sei escorts the candidates on an outing to Crater Lake. It gets a little shaky from there.

Pilot for Candidate Mini-TP. Large log!

When

It is late night of the thirteenth day of the sixth month of the seventh turn

Where

Crater Lake, Igen Weyr & Waterfall Cavern / Underground Cavern System

OOC Date 23 Mar 2016 04:00

 

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Those who sink beneath the sheets of sandstone are shocked into sudden darkness, slipping sliding and then FALLING off the edge of Pern. DOWN DOWN DOWN. Is there ground? Is this the end?


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Crater Lake & Waterfall Cavern

Four centuries ago, a chunk of the very comet that drove some Oldtimers forward crashed to the desert near Igen Weyr, collapsing the original inner caverns and breaking through to a new spring that now feeds into Igen's underground aquifer. The result? Beauty from destruction - a long, crystalline lake of brilliant sapphire blue. Sharp sandstone rings the water in jagged peaks, where sparse desert shrubs cling to steep, sandy slopes and reflect darkly on the pristine, mirror-like surface. Out in the midst of the lake, a small island pierces the glassy plane, umber from azure in a near-perfect cone. A startling break in the stark desert and savannah surrounding the Weyr, the crater lake sits like a jewel in the rough - a picturesque, inviting respite from the rough, dry terrain beyond.


The days have been long. The nights possibly longer as the candidates have been forced to rough it in the Northern Bowl in their campsite. And as the summer days grow longer, hotter, and some all the worse by the vicious sandstorms that rake across the Weyr, being stuck inside canvas tents is becoming less and less welcoming. Even as the pest problem slowly becomes more controlled, the remnants of their terror keep the barracks in less than preferable conditions. So as the evening cools and Rukbat lingers in the sky above to cast some lingering light, a small group of candidates have gone on a rider-escorted excursion to the nearby Crater Lake. A small change of scenery. A few less creepy crawlies. And the coolness of the wind that gently flows from the history-ladened lake waters. All the welcoming things that by far surpass that which the white-knots have been dealing with the last few days. The group of fifteen is led up the side of the sharp-sided sandstone to view that which lies beyond. Although a fine layer of sand sits on everything from the earlier storms, right now there is a wonderful serenity about it.

C'sei would have sworn that just recently he was snubbing his nose at the mere suggestion of him going on one of these candidate outings. Yet he's here today! It probably explains the extreme look of unhappiness planted across his face as he treks with all the dragonrider hopefuls. He tells a couple of the uncertain ones along the way, 'you can't give the dragon back'. If the some of them drop out when they return to the weyr maybe that'll encourage whoever ordered him on this trip to never do so again in the future. He points out some landmarks out there to a boy standing next to him, trying (and failing) to look positive about this occupation of his valuble drinking time.

Homesick, bedraggled, used to nicer lodgings, Harriet eagerly jumped at the opportunity to get away. She chats idly with a couple of fellow candidates near her as they make their way along, even relaxing so far as to push her headscarf back and let the cool wind blow through her blonde, if tangled, locks.

Kebra is one of 15. He is neither head of the line nor tagging behind… per his M.O. he is smack dab in the middle. He has donned a headscarf. A brand spanking new headscarf (mysteries abound as to how his former had fallen to pieces!). Even in the face of that cool wind, the man keeps his scarf on. It's not until he takes a pause to drink from the skin at his waist that it actually slips off. There's indeed a relieved sigh come the end of the drink and the brush of that cooling wind.

Ephrem has been peeled away from his sister's side once more, mostly at the promise of being able to get away from those canvas tents and the Weyr in general. Plus, Crater Lake is just a really nice place to visit. So he is one o the candidates on this romp, though his head is a little bowed and his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He happens to be near enough C'sei to hear what the man says, and it far too aptly echos points Ephrem'd brought up in another conversation. The biggest, most uncomfortable one is that once its happened, there's absolutely no going back. Being a relunctant participant in all of this…well.. C'sei's words strike a lot of chords. So, Ephrem walks in silence, his dark black hair speckled with sand, his scarf still pulled down about his shoulders rather then over his head like normal.

"I could use a day when I don't feel like I'm covered in a fine layer of sand," Ealasaid comments to no one in particular as she makes her way along with the rest of the group. Sleeping outdoors probably isn't helping that any, and while the blonde may not be particularly vain, she does have good personal hygiene. Much like C'sei, she's not entirely sure why she's out on this excursion, but she's here, and it's too late to turn back and do something more useful with her time. "Stop terrorizing the kids," she mutters to the greenrider as she slips her way into step beside him. Then, in a lower tone, "You didn't happen to bring anything worth drinking, did you?"

Brynn is here, with her ever-present firelizard settled on her shoulder, his tail wrapped around her neck. She keeps trying to loosen it, but to no avail. She is near the back of the group, and pauses to just admire the lake - that is, she would if the firelizard on her shoulder would stop flapping his wings in her face. C'sei's not-so-words-of-encouragement reach her ears and her lips twitch in a slight smirk, one that reappears as she catches Ealasaid's mutter back.

Nasrin had bathed but not had time to sufficiently dry her hair so it, under a deep red head scarf, leaves darker water marks over the fabric. Upon returning to the candidate bivouac and noticing several recently missing, she's donned a better pair of shoes and raced to join them. Race meaning stepping quickly over the hard-packed silt like a creature running over water without sinking. Euskal is far ahead, zig-zagged flight following the path left by Rukbat.

Some steps behind C'sei, Korsan trails, though while his light eyes are angled up more at the rider's back as if listening to the conversation being shared, it's to another boy that he seems to be paying some attention to. Sameld is a young smith apprentice, somewhere around seventeen turns, squat and somewhat on the heavier side of builds. And he follows a step beside and behind the seaman, his comment about a female harper beside them comes with quiet chuckling between them both. Korsan's remains reserved, that breathy thing he does that remains deep in his chest. He tips his head down further to watch his footing as they climb over the ridge to the flat top that gives way to the water.

That fine layer of sand covers each and every ridge, every nook, every cranny. The flat area beside the lake almost appears too flat with what covers it. Like a thin beach that's just enough, perhaps, to deceive what lies beneath. It does prove to create a bit of a challenge for those less sure-of-foot to climb the last ridge up, a little slippery but surely not providing a death-defying feat to scale. Some candidates have brought skins of water, others towels to sit on, and start dropping them down beside the lake side, as if ready to just collapse there in this reprieve for whatever time C'sei's patience allows them to stay up here.

If there are any other doubters in the group, C'sei will be more than glad to help further their sense of confusion and worry. He's interrupted from giving another candidate some words of wisdom when Ealasaid appears at his elbow. He drops his head to answer back in low tones, "I'm just helping them." The greenrider digs in his jacket, his very lightweight jacket and fishes out a small canteen. It probably has water in it and lends it to her without a water. His light eyes sweep from one landmark to the next, looking intently at the area that the candidates are starting to rest on. His mouth slants crookedly before he shakes his head.

Tyzana may be a wee bit late to the party, but that's because she brought an Aztrexia. Both of them are on the tail end of the 'expedition' of candidates, and hustling to catch up. When they arrive she nudges the other girl "Look, there! Someone brought food, just as I promised." Indeed, a few of the candidates have brought large baskets, and there's a general free for all to get at the goodies for those who are hungry "We'd best hurry if we're going to get some of what's going." And she hustles off to get her share, with a gasp as she spies C'sei "I like that! He sais he waas going for a drink!" She was disapproving before; now she's just downright offended "He could have offered to escort us."

The cure for sand? More sand. Harriet drops a sandy towel on the sandy sand and sits, wriggling her boots and socks off in preparation to wade into that brilliant water with its promise of no sand, or perhaps wet sand but only at the bottom. The only attention paid to C'sei as their guide, after the incident at Mama Steen's sendoff, is a silently judgey side-eye at the start of the expedition and assiduous avoidance after that.

Aztrexia looks up, excited when she sees the food baskets. "Good. Lets get to getting then!" She too spies the dragonrider and shakes her head. "Trust me, you didn't need an escort." Tyzana has no idea who she's traveling with. "Perhaps he did not wish to have company on his trek up here, men are strange creatures." Trexa laughs and makes a hasty retreat to the food!

Kebra joins his fellow Candidates, but absent a towel he simply crouches near enough their proximity. In the sand. Sand that he rather mindlessly begins pawing through… more because it's that same busy work that keeps him from thinking too much about things. Deep things. So for now? He paws at sand and occasionally studies a neighboring Candidate.

Micyn and Renric, two herder older-teen apprentices trail off slightly from the group, kicking rocks into the water. They start shouting as they begin kicking pebbles and thusly sand at each other. Retaliation leads to Renic grabbing the other by the shirt and shoving him playfully as if about to push him into the lake, their laughing growing raucous as their horseplay escalates.

Ealasaid rolls her eyes, giving C'sei her most skeptical expression. "You're not helping them, you're just scaring them." Still, there's no real admonishment behind it. Perhaps there's even a hint of amusement for how easily some are deterred. She takes the canteen with a conspiratorial smile, taking a swig of that water, and then one more for good measure. "That's just what I needed after all this walking." There's a laugh that teases at her lips, but she doesn't allow it to escape. As they reach the sandy stretch, she offers the canteen back to the greenrider and takes a few steps forward, ready to press on a bit further, even though some seem content to settle down upon the ground.

The Steen boy is clueless of his sister's clipped approach, his thoughts turned inwards and C'sei's pep-talk bugging him more then he's going to admit out loud. There's a tiny, baby-blue firelizard resting on his shoulder, claws dug into his shoulder as he rests up against the softer material of the scarf. The other two..no where to be seen. Once he finally arrives where most of the other candidates have decided to plop down, Ephrem collapses to the sand like a sack of tubers, shoulders sagging. He looks quite merose..but after a few seconds, and a very obvious, very deep breath taken, he looks up and towards the crystal clear water. His hands come to rest on his knees and he watches others relax and still others goof around. The blue chirps happily as Ephrem settles, and bumps his wedged head up under the boy's chin before crawling down to the the lap and then the sand beneath. Time to hunt for the creepy crawlie little meals on legs hidden within the sand.

Those baskets are full of meatrolls, bread and cheese, cookies, fruit, and other sundries - Tyzana gets a goodly amount, then plops herself down on one of the spread blankets to eat it, shaking her head to Aztrexia "Still. It was kind of rude the way he just walked away." But it's C'sei, so likely she shouldn't expect a lot? She smiles at the other candidates sitting near her, introduces her new friend all 'round "This is Aztrexia, everyone." She waves a hand at the trader "Of the Zingari. She wanted to come, so I brought her." So have at her, one and all!

Tyzana and Aztrexia have the lead on Nasrin, but her quick-legged jaunt is making progress until she adopts a more seemly walk that effectively ends the windsock-effect of her multi-colored skirts. "Tyzana!" A breath squeezes out. "What sort of affair is this?" Posed to the girls as her breathing rate begins to improve now that haste is out of the equation. She's already trying to see Ephrem's head, but the scent of warm food clouds her judgment. For a second. Or two. Roughly.

"I'm doing them a favor." C'sei replies back, taking a swig from his canteen once it's returned to him. He's unapologetic for his bad behavior. Just why anyone thought he'd be the guy to send up with the candidates is truly a mystery. It's probably one of those 'we're teaching you a lesson things'. "When are you going to quit and be my wing-" Wing what? He hears Tyzana's voice and some of the remarks she's making about them. Again: unapologetic. He shrugs his shoulders and gives the girl a broad smile, a little disconcerting if we're being honest here. Still he's at least reasonably adequate at this job and grabs a wandering candidate by the back of the shirt before he can go wandering off the rocks. "Stay here."

Brynn clearly wants to get to the water, stepping over another candidate that's just set down their towel. The firelizard on her shoulder has much the same idea, and launches off her shoulder, making a wild spiralling dive for the crystalline pool, disappearing into the water with a splash. The former guard spots C'sei stopping that boy from heading off and marches over to him. "Why can't we? It's hot." Surely someone with a 'nickname' like puddle would let them swim. Hands go to her hips and her eyes slide to Ealasaid. Surely she agrees?

Micyn shoves back, sending Renric reeling. The playfulness fades quickly as a consequence of long days in the heat and in tents, his face flushing red as Micyn moves quickly after Renric, reaching for his tunic to grab him in what would have, could have, devolved swiftly into a grappling match. But he trips. His boot caught on something hidden beneath that sand. He lands hard on his palms, glancing back in sense of confusion. And as he stops, the murmuring of many of the group is suddenly shushed, not from anticipation of a fight, but from….

What was that? Did the water in the waterskins quiver? Did someone skip a rock and send rings across the lake? The water slowly returns to still. Everything stills.

"Why can't you go running off into the desert?" C'sei gives Brynn a strange look and follows that up with, "Because I said so? Go into the water all you want." And then the ground starts shaking. The greenrider takes in a deep breath and looks around, suspicion falling across his face.

Harriet passes Kebra on her way to the water; his activity catches her attention and she pauses. "Don't dig too big a hole," she advises solemnly, then crinkles her bridge of her nose in distaste at Micyn and Renric. "Faranth, do those two ever give it a rest?" The food she ignores entirely, but over her shoulder there's a transient but friendly wave towards Aztrexia. Because of this she misses the Jurassic Park ripples, just glad that the offending roughhousing candidates have shut up.

There's a snort from the blonde, as Ealasaid turns around to watch C'sei manhandle some poor candidate. "I'll make a much better wingwoman with a set of wings," she points out, light challenge behind the words. "But you might get your way yet." Quitting is always on the table. The woman arches a brow as Brynn approaches with such purpose, lifting shoulders in a shrug as the girl makes her demands known. "Just think, one of them might drown." She makes a handwaving motion at the greenrider. Let them be free! If one of them drowns, that probably gets him out of ever doing this again, too. Then the ground shifts, and the woman's sharp gaze suddenly darts around. With cautious strides, she steps away, moving toward the strangely flat ground with suspicion.

Kebra's already still! But, impossibly so, he goes -stiller-, his proverbial hackles raised. A time for stillness passes and sees him looking over to Harriet. He tries his utmost best to /not/ look so.. perturbed. His smile, alas, is probably not really that convincing as 'guilty as charged'. For his sand digging hole, of course. "Think maybe you lecture them, they might." Because it worked for him. See? He's not digging! No, he's kind of shifting closer to stand near enough her, "You felt that though, right?"

Ephrem isn't hard to find amongst the group. He's just sitting there, watching everything else going on around him, looking about as lonely as a boy can be! He hasn't made a lot of friends during this experiment (gee, is it any wonder why?). He still hasn't noticed his sister, though he does take note of Harriet, and Kebra. Huh, it looks like those two might be chummy. Of course, he could be misreading the situation, being too far to notice what she says to the other. Then, something strange happens. An uncomfortable sensation goes through him. It felt almost like the ground beneath him shifted, barely perceptable. He might simply ignore it as shifting sand, settling beneath him, but he takes notice of the rippling water too. At about the same time, the blue firelizard squawks, digging himself quickly back out of the sand and taking to the air. A second later, a brush of cold hits Ephrem's cheeks as te fledgling disappears ::Between:: Ephrem's brow pinches as he looks around to see if anyone else felt that, or if it was his imagination.

Aztrexia grabs as much food as her hands can carry, joining Tyzana on the blanket. She digs into her food, waving simply at those who she's been introduced to. Eyes scan the surroundings as she devours her food. Such a large gathering! She hadn't realized there were this many candies. SHe turns to Tyzana. "It was rude, I'll grant you that!"

Tyzana smiles at Nasrin, patting a space on teh blanket "Get some food, join us. I think that we're just having a…rest evening." She can't really decide what else to call it. "And I think some of the candidates are going to explore the caves." Not this girl, of course. She's going to eat. "Have you met Aztrexia? She's a Zingarian. Just met her this afternoong." This all said in between bites of food, of course.

Brynn nods firmly to C'sei. (She sure showed him.) Her lips quirk slightly as Ealasaid backs her up. And she takes a step towards the lake, her firelizard chittering at her as he floats on his back, sending a jet of water up in the air, like a fountain. That's when she feels the earth tremble. "Did you feel that?" She looks from face to face, frozen, concerned.

Rather oddly, the first thing that hits Veresch isn't the feeling of the slight tremor that starts, it's the memories: playing on a sandy beach and feeling the same, and hordes and hordes of crying firelizards. It paralyses her, that memory, and for a moment she looks around for a gigantic wave before reality asserts itself. Turning away from the patch of sand she's been guarding with her backside, stands and is about to brush herself off when the earth turns queasy underneath her. Her little gold clings tenaciously to her shoulder, but the rest of her fair scatter and disappear, and there's a slight green tinge to her face. Damn memories. Turning on her heel, she makes for the cavern-crawling equipment instead, ignoring the food.

"Yeah, but then I have to wait months for your dragon to not be useless." C'sei comments on that as an aside, but since the ground doesn't immediately open up or anything he straightens from the half crouch he was about to be in. A strange look is given to Brynn, complete with one half raised eyebrow as he shoots a confused expression at Ealasaid. "Anyway." He crosses his arms over his chest, "My better judgement is saying we should leave." But C'sei's better judgment also tells him to do a lot of other things on a day to day basis that aren't awesome, so he's learned to not believe it all the time.

"I thought-" Harriet thought it was just her. But everyone's going still, and not because she's lecturing. No longer heading lakewards, she fidgets with the hem of her scarf and her sandy brows knit in puzzlement at Kebra as though maybe he's got something to do with it. Too much digging!

Korsan had been standing somewhat off on his own to look out over the lake, one thumb hooked in his belt, the other hand rested at his side. Light eyes just watch the waters, so still as they are when just a lake unfed by coursing streams, rivers, or bays. His stance and silence leave his follower without someone to impress, continued conversation getting a side-long, unamused look from the former and Sameld moves off to find another person to schmooze. Observations don't miss the change in the water, and whatever unbothered look had been on his rugged face is soon gone, the edges of his lips flinched in that barest change. He turns to look back at those closest, and despite his usual lack of hurry, is behind Ealasaid in a few strides. His hand on her shoulder to pause her as she goes closer to where those rings appeared to orient, a glance towards Brynn close-by. "Do you always go towards the problem?"

That absolute stillness seems to drag on, one that comes as much from below as from above- no firelizards, no wherries- even the air seems unearthly, chokingly motionless.

The motion comes again. The rings in the water come as if someone dropped another stone near the candidates in the lake. The waterskins tremble, one falls over. A few pebbles are heard to skitter-skate down the side of the ledge they just climbed to get up here.

It stops again. Waiting presents nothing. Breaths, seconds pass. A couple of candidates can be heard to giggle nervously and begin again in a conversation near the water.

"Ouch, you little heathen," one of Nasrin's hands goes just behind her eye where Euskal just bit her. The candidate rubs her temple while considering Tyzana's offer and selecting the option to join them. Her knees flex forward in preparation to sit on the blanket when the ground shimmers underneath, not enough to inhibit her balance, but definitely enough to warrant a pause and rethink. Euskal's eyes are a noxious yellow and her wings buffet the air in front of the candidate. "How… do you do…" a whisp of a greeting to Aztrexia. "Something isn't right. Eph!" Because he can fix it.

Kebra holds up his hands, palms facing Harriet, as if to show he's not digging and all of this shaking is totally -not- his fault! "I didn't do it." A beat, then he's reaching out for her elbow, his grip not vice-like, but he's definitely making a point. "Maybe we oughta… you know," Not be so much -here- as over there. Away from where the shaking is.

C'sei crosses his arms over chest, taking in the stillness with an increasingly brooding look developing on his face. His eyes drag slowly across the candidates until they rest on Veresch over that away, he's watching her until the motion comes back. Then his attention snaps back onto the lake and he slowly lowers his arms. Apparently that's enough weirdness for him. "Alright everyone, pack up your crap. Lets go." The greenrider isn't usually authortive, but this is probably one of those rare exceptions. But of course they've got a lot of crap, why wouldn't they?! "Stupid kids and all your shit." Blankets, picnic baskets. The greenrider starts hustling a pair of candidates stretched out on the sand next to the lake. "Move, move. Lets go."

There is seriously nothing like nature being annoying to ruin a good meal. When that water starts to quiver and everyone starts getting nervous, Tyzana's getting concerned as well. "Aztrexia, I don't know about you - but I've got a bad feeling about this. I'm thinking of going back to the Weyr." The Weyr is safe. Nothign ever hurts her at the Weyr. "There's something going on, and I don't like it." That being said, she's already rising off the blanket, Giorg suddenly bursting out of between to shriek at her, then settle to her shoulder and wrap his tail around her neck, only to launch himself again "Ow!" She hurriedly gathers her things, worry growing as she looks around for a dragonrider and is relieved when C'sei echoes her idea.

"Any dragon who picks me will never be useless," Ealasaid tosses back, sounding far more confident about that particular topic than she actually is. But the blonde is an expert at feigning strength she doesn't feel at any given moment. "You might want to pull people back," she warns over her shoulder, C'sei-wards. It's given with a flicker of a smile as she takes another step forward. Not that he needs the suggestion, it seems. And then Korsan joins her, the cool metal of those rings familiar even without a backward glance. "How else am I supposed to solve it?" There's a hint of devilry in her smirk as she looks back at him once, then drops her shoulder and breaks free from his grip. A glance is given to Veresch — who probably knows what she's doing — and Ealasaid jerks her chin in the direction of the rings. And then she's off, moving closer with caution.

The ground has shaken again, and this time its stronger, more pronounced. Maybe its just because he's 'listening' for it, waiting for it to happen again. Ephrem sits up straighter, both hands leaving his knees and resting on the ground. A slightly shakey breath is taken and..wait.. "Nas?" He looks around and sure enough..there she is. He pushes to his feet, dusting off his clothes habitually as he starts towards her. "When did you get here?" He notices his sister's gold's agitation readily enough. Had he ever seen her eyes whirl so yellow? He shakes hhis head after a moment and reaches out a hand for Nasrin. "Come on. We should go.." His statement is punctuated by C'sei's sudden command. "Now. Lets go. Something's wrong.". Its not a demand so much as it is a masked plea, his voice just a smidge high pitched.

Color Harriet surprised as her weedy fellow Candidate grasps her elbow, but between the weediness, the surprise and the quick realization that he's got the right idea, Kebra doesn't get the knee-jerk brush-off that she usually reserves for grabby men. Instead she takes a few staggering steps towards the away-from-shaking, only to look back with a pained exclamation of, "I left my boots!"

And then it all moves. All of it. At least, it seems that way to whatever group happens to be standing where the ground MELTS away from under their feet. Sandstone shifts, slowly in the initial beat as if some surreal thing. Is it real? Is the sky moving? No it's YOU, or just the people you're staring at if you happen to be so lucky, and then with rapidity as it grows in the volume and intensity of motion. The slates of stone move the candidates with them, dragging them sideways and downwards, like a steep sloped slide into some hellish black pit as one part of the ground simply separates from the other into a mouth-like crevasse. Rubble moves like a river's torrent in the rock slide, collected of nothing big enough to kill, fortunately, nor to grab onto for any sense of safety. There's water mixed in, the suspect of what presents such instability as it sprinkles around them, slickening the ride, speeding the fall.

Those who sink beneath the sheets of sandstone are shocked into sudden darkness, slipping sliding and then FALLING off the edge of Pern. DOWN DOWN DOWN. Is there ground? Is this the end? The roar of rocks falling is everywhere. Deafening, threatening to smash you into pieces…. or is that ….water?

Brynn has waded into the water up to her knees, the water lapping peacefully at the base of her shortened trousers. She's reaching down to wet her hand just as everyone starts moving again, packing up all of their things. She squints in the sunlight, watching the activity. "What's going on?" Likely only her firelizard can hear. And he evidently doesn't care, splashing at her with his brown tail. She grabs at him with both hands, meaning to carry him out of the lake, and go and join the others. But he's stubborn and irritable and slippery as an eel. "Get back here!"

Veresch kneels next to one of the packs when the second tremor hits, and there's another gut-churning moment where buried memories make her back bow with uncertainty. One hand locks on the strap and she stands, hauling it easily over the shoulder where Luna isn't, before she strides out to the lake, just in case. There's a single look at C'sei, then another that's considerably flatter at Korsan - and finally she stretches her legs to join Ealasaid in her march to the gurgling lake. She spares a look over her shoulder, frowning at everyone still there, and turns on resolutely. Between one step and the second that step turns out to be exactly the wrong one, and she lashes a hand out to grab her fellow candidate tightly around one wrist. Whatever she might have been shouting disappears in that rumble.

Tyzana is not one of those going toward the water - no, she headed to higher ground, i.e., back toward the Weyr, picking her way carefully as the ground continues to tremble and shudder slightly. So those initial screams as people begin to slide under the sand come at her back and she whirls, eyes widenign in horror and mouth dropping open. Because the ground just swallowed half the candidates, right?

"Not important!" Kebra's response to Harriet is thus, for he stresses the /not/ far more than the important. He doesn't let go of her elbow either. Mostly because he's intent on guiding her away from the very thing that he steps into. Or maybe /it/ comes to him. Either way, where Kebra put his next step is where there is no next step but for sliding ground. HIs eyes widen first, then that hand on Harriet's elbow reflexively tightens before it's yanked away as he he's tumbling down, down, down into dark and wet with nary more than a surprised yelp. Maybe, just maybe people are too busy falling themselves to take note?

Nasrin can only hear a hellish choir of firelizards, and as her brother grabs her hand, she looks at him with shock, as if she didn't just summon him over, and snatches back her hand for the use of it. Hands blindly start helping Tyzana gather her blanket, she can feel the weight of it, and she's pretty sure she tugs it free and yells at the two other girls to run. The give of stone, shouts, and giant vacuum of air are deafening. She looks back and, horrified finds Ephrem just not there. Her throat is clamped, nothing comes out. Someone pulls her blouse, something, Euskal. A column of white dust rises and hangs as a great shroud.

Maybe Ealasaid expects that something of this ilk is about to happen, but she's certainly not expecting the sheer scale of it. Nor is she expecting the ground to go out from under her feet. There's a startled shout from the woman as she feels the earth give out from beneath her, and much like Veresch's shouting, everything else is lost to the roar of the ground giving way. She doesn't have the presence of mind to reach out for the other girl in the tumble, but she feels Veresch's hand on her wrist — at least for a time — as she goes falling, falling down. For a moment it seems like she'll never feel the ground again, and then she lands with a SPLASH in the water below.

"But sir, the ground trembling isn't necessarily a bad sign. It could just be the plates under the crust of the earth rubbing together!" The one boy begins to explain to C'sei as he takes the kid's sandwich and flings it into the picnic basket. "Look, I don't get paid enough marks to understand what you just said. Pack up and go." Then the ground starts to seriously move and make noise. He straightens up and it seems like the very earth he's standing on turns into some sort of sick rubble waterfall. He's on his feet long enough to see his friend pulled down. "Veresch!" It's his hurried steps in her direction that cause his undoing. There's nothing there to reach for, he loses his footing in the collapsing ground and he's pulled down with the rest. He's probably not going to be allowed to supervise the candidates on the next outing.

Score one for C'sei.

They're almost in the clear, but as the ground gives way, Harriet scrabbles at Kebra's hand…that's soon gone (hopefully not GONE gone) and then she's only getting handfuls of mud, debris, any and everything. Except boots. Not hers, anyway. After what feels like an eternity she hits the lower level, part water and part rock knocking the air from her lungs. When it comes back, it comes back with the first swear any of her fellow Candidates have heard out of her…maybe her first swear ever. "Bloody-"

Ephrem is in shock. One moment, he's standing before Nasrin, pleading with her to hurry, for them to leave. The next instant, his legs are giving out from under him. No, its more like, the ground has transformed into a sand and water slick slide. He doesn't even have time for a shout as he finds himself falling, tumbling into the darkness below. There's not much, if any, sunlight in the world above, so it really is blackness he free-falls through, and he has way too much time to think about the fact that he has no clue where the ground is, or if he'll survive impact. He isn't prepared for the landing that meets him, as the dark freefall turns into a cold splash of water that swallows him up. He breathes it in instantly, and panic sets in. Up is down, down is up, and he can see nothing, but knows he can't breath.
breathe

Brynn turns in slow motion to see her fellow candidates, and some others, swallowed up by the earth. She reacts in time to launch herself across the lake at a small, terrified-looking girl, with brown hair in twin buns, just missing her hand - reaching, reaching - as she is pulled silently under. The suction ends, not pulling Brynn down too. The young woman is stuck, frozen, her face a mask of disbelief, her long arm reaching, stretched to its limit. Her fingers move, as if she can bring that little girl back with the action, rewind time. Her gaze sweeps the scene for survivors - she spots Tyzana and comes to. "Can you see anyone?"

Well, hell. Veresch might still have been okay if it wasn't for that single, insanely long trip between once, where her own heart thundered so loudly in her ears that she couldn't hear anything over the rushing sound either. It doesn't help that Ealasaid's hand is ripped from her grasp, or that she can only dimly hear C'sei's call. Instead, burdened with the pack she falls into the deepest segment of the pool, going down-down-down with an almighty splash as Luna shrills and takes to the wet sky, fluttering in the low light like an old Earth bat. Instinctively, thankfully, old instincts kick in and she manages to right herself in the water. There's a furious kick, then a grunt as she bashes into something — warm, kicking, panicking — and grabs onto what feels like a collar to start hauling the person up with her. Lucky Ephrem. Please don't kick and take her head off.

Tyzana is still tanding, horrified, at how many people disappeared into that giant sandy maw. She's frozen in shock, indeed; so much so that she actually dropped all the food she was carrying. "I….they're gone!" She says to Brynn. "We have to get help." She looks around for C'sei again and…."Where's C'sei? Faenwyth?" She looks relieved at least to see the green, because she knows that surely help has been called for. "We need to get back to the Weyr." Seriously, there's not a lot they can do, is there? She looks around, to see who else did not go down the tube.

Faenwyth is here and pissed off about the current events. Her eyes whirl and rears back on her legs, wings beating the air as she takes off and circles the vicinity from the ground. Help has surely been called, but when they'll get here and what they'll be able to do is unclear.

Korsan may have let go of Ealasaid's shoulder at her response, but he didn't quite leave from that spot he'd taken behind her. The look on his face is shadowed by the slight furrow of his brows, a displeased glance going back over his shoulder as he makes the choice to follow her instead of leaving her be as she'd probably wish- though does he ever concede to such wishes? When the ground moves, he's swept away with it, just behind Veresch and Ealasaid, and to his other side, Harriet and Kebra. Sameld, Micyn, Renric tumble together in a heap, swept into the dark maw that awaits them all. There's screams, swearing, all jumbled and then lost into echoes and drowned by the roars of water below.

The bodies are tossed unbiased by the thick, muddy, sandy, rocky, mess of a landslide, into an underground pool far beneath, the rain of rubble showering around them, pelting from above with the sifting, heavy sands following them relentlessly mixed with the water that drains down with it. The light is gone, their entrance so slanted and then dropped off, shunting whatever Rukbat had left to give them. And as she sets amidst the evening in Igen, whatever potential exits could have been found, will have to wait as darkness surrounds them for the night.

The sound of the debris around them that follows them down into this place can't compete with the sound of roaring water of the waterfall that feeds this underground cavern. The air- once eventually unburdened by falling rock and gagging sands, though of course pebbles continue to assault them given the instability of what sits above their heads- is to be found thick with damp mist, the walls slick with gooey cavernous mosses.

Kebra's hand is still attached to the rest of him, which may or may not have landed somewhere near Harriet. Does he hear her first ever colorful curse? Probably! There just isn't a whole lot he can do about it right now but for to groan and sputter and, generally, try to work out why he feels like Ike he's been through the wringer. Oh. RIGHT. "You-" Cough, gag, choke. "Okay?" Presumably to Harriet, though hey - anyone is free to answer! He's moving, now… or trying to move amidst the muck, mud, rock, water. For sake of making sure Harriet isn't what he just stepped on, Kebra ignores the pain in his shoulder and definitely doesn't focus on the trickle of warm blood running down his arm. "Where /are/ you?" Yeah. Annoyance. Best to mask the fear that's rapidly welling in the man.

And what's left above? Well, the mouth of that just-born cave is crafted of sandstone the likes of which touching would surely add such a brave soul to those lost below. Nearby movements lead to more rubble falling away, more shifting. All-too-ready to assault those below- are they still alive?- with another landslide. It's too angled, too deep, too dark to see anything. Is that a voice? Or are the sounds of water deceiving the ears of the hopeful?

Nasrin pits her gaze against the dust in the air slowly gaining translucence. Nasrin, gripping Tyzana'a blanket tightly, follows the sound of Brynn's voice until she can better see her. And Tyzana! She does not go near the maw in the earth, but channels a bold: "hello!" That way and down. "Do you mind?" She asks Tyzana before balling and pitching the blanket into the abyss. "They'll need that I think." Shaking, her heart knocking, Nasrin thinks a ribbon of thought to Euskal who, struggling to hover, beats her wings down into the hole.

Ephrem does kick. He struggles, not knowing what monster from the depths has him by the collar. Fortunately, his motions are uncoordinated and the unfortunate 'breath' of water he'd taken has shocked his system, weakening his thrashing. Veresch won't have too much trouble getting him to the surface, at least no more then usual, though once they break, Ephrem still thrashes about a little, not aware that his head is above the water. A few seconds pass, and he begins coughing. Water is thrown up, spit out, coughed, and in every way expeled from his lungs. Where as before he'd fought Veresch, now he seems to realize its her helping him, and not some mysterious, undiscovered Pernese monster. So, he turns about a bit, reaching for her wrist, trying to grip her arm or her shirt or even her hair, its really whatever he can get ahold of. "Wh..". He coughs again, and hoarsely manages to ask, "What happened? wh..where are we?". Its too dark to see anything but faint light from the slit above.

Harriet wheezes softly a few times before there's an, "I'm all right," for Kebra, for anyone who might be wondering. Is there a doctor in the cave? Maybe not, but she has some basic…very basic training. "Is anyone badly hurt?"

Ealasaid surfaces with a gasp of air, thrashing about in the water as she tries to orient herself. Her hand smacks something solid — perhaps a fellow candidate? — and she snatches it back quickly. Parts of her are already beginning to ache, and it's with a wince that she begins to drag herself toward what seems to be the edge of the pool. "Veresch?" That name belongs to someone down here with her, she knows that much, but the sound of other voices suggests they aren't the only ones. "Who else is down here? Is anyone hurt?"

Giorg has returned, and clings with whirling red eyes and strangling tail to Tyzana's shoulder and throat, crooning his relief that his human at least is not buried under the sand. Said human shakes her head at Nasrin "NO, it wasn't mine. Go ahead. Maybe we should toss them some food, too." Because really, what else can they do? "Oh, I wish a dragonrider would show up." She frets "They'd know what to do better than we. And the dragons might help." Tyzana, ex-laundress? Feels totally helpless.

From Temyrth's neck, Above, a lean dragon melts from *between*, almost equally camoflauged by the approaching shadows of the night. Ebon-sluiced wings carve a few circles above, as two satallite firelizards circle around the brown, casting their view to the situation below. When, finally, the brown lands quite clear of broken ground, his rider slides from Temyrth's riding harness and, hefting a couple ropes. He strides over, knotless, alert, with a glance to the green dragon he knew was here, and then the rest. Temyrth slinks over toward Faenwyrth, his study on the green dragon.

True story, C'sei doesn't do a lot of swimming. So when he finds himself suddenly surrounded by rubble and water, he does little bit of a freakout until he can get himself onto dry-ish ground. He pulls himself up and takes a few long moments to get his breathing under control, caugh up water and in general try and keep himself together. He begins to identify the voices in the dark, rolling onto his stomach and trying to get up onto his knees at least. "Who's down here?" It's in the process of righting himself that he finds the twinge of pain in his wrist. "Perfect. Ealasaid? 'Resch?"

First the barracks, now this! One might begin to wonder what the Weyr's got against innocent Candidates. Near the back of the huddled group, Dinah mutters direly beneath her breath, "…. knew those eggs were evil… " SHe'll just cross her arms and sulk with her bottom lip all poked out, looking quite childish and caring not even a little bit.

Harriet finds herself hung up on a ridiculousy small pile of rubble; with mighty effort she army-crawls over it and towards other voices. "I'm fine," she calls, and then realizing the near impossibility that C'sei knows her voice, adds, "Harriet."

A set of glowing eyes, no, a perhaps a dozen or more and growing in quantity, cast tiny pockets of light in the pit's interior: firelizards. Euskal doesn't provide more than shakey imagery but so far nothing looks extreme. Under orders, the queen hunt down Ephrem, calls sharply in his ear (to make sure they're working of course), rubs one of his cheeks, and then shuttles back between. As dragonriders arrive, Nasrin hangs close to Tyzana, relief finding her eyes. She sits down in a heap, petting her firelizard and leaning her head against Tyzana if the girl doesn't move.

Brynn waded the long way around, to be safe, tailed by her firelizard who, catching her (well hidden) alarm, has launched himself up and into the hammock of her over tunic. She nods to Tyzana and Nasrin, placing careful steps along the edge. She glances back at C'sei's green Faenwyrth, and Temyrth who's just arrived. She's determined to not show the shock she's feeling, her jaw locked. Pro tip: she feels just as helpless as the rest. "They must be still alive, if C'sei's green is still here." Rigidly said.

Ow. Ow. Ow! That last is accompanied by a strangled, sulphurous cursing as Veresch breaks the water with Ephrem in tow, and supports him as he gets rid of the water. "Not this way! Not this way!" she manages to get out, panicky, the one time he cough-vomits anywhere close to her, but she keeps the two of them afloat, legs working hard. "Alec? Ealasaid? Are you hurt?" She turns to and fro in the darkness, trying to get her night-sight back, and damn near ditches Ephrem before she calms and lets him hold onto her waist. Above, twirling in the faint rays of light, Luna calls out to Euskal, then flutters aside to avoid the blanket that comes fluttering down. Hopefully someone catches that before it soaks. "Who are you?" she asks point blank of the guy holding on to her. "Can you see the shore of the pool?" Then, of course, there's a fluttering noise and something shrieking close to her ear, and she bites off another curse. If there's another strong swimmer about, surely it's a pirate, so… "Korsan?"

From Temyrth's neck, As M'tej strides forward, his little green lizard sails down in front of him, her attention now on the ground as his is forward to the yawning pit, "C'sei!?" A booming basso, there, distintly M'tej's, though not many riders have heard the unsociable brownrider much. "You alright?" M'tej's bronze lizard arrows down there, and at a jittery flare of the green's wings and a shrill call, M'tej comes to a stop just prior to the edge of the beginning of the weak rock. "Who you got down there?" The bronze lizard cascades down into the hole, as well. "And what do you need? Anyone hurt?" The brown dragon doesn't get too close to the green, but he's nearby. Quite interested!

Ephrem can, fortunately, swim. He's just not the absolute best at it. Still, now that he knwos where the surface is, he /can/ float, and is managing it. He still holds on to his rescuer, his hands finding grips on her waist, but as his coughing calms, he gains confidence and his grip loosens. Still, he's terrified, his eyes wide and very shell-shocked. They latch onto the first sign of light down here they can gather, that of the firelizards winking in from between, or otherwise. "Its..". He doesn't get a chance to finish telling her who he is because his sister's gold is suddenly shrieking in his ear. He groans and releases Veresch, covering his ears. "Thanks Eusk.." is sputtered out. "T..tell her I'm fine.". Then, at C'sei's voice, he calls out, "Ephrem!" He calls out above the noise of the waterfall. "The shore?". he squints in the darkness, but doesn't easily see it. he does catch darker shadows of others nearby, and so starts in their direction. Eventually, he feels stone beneath his feet and lets out a happy sigh.

"Does anyone think anything is broken?" Ealasaid demands loudly, when it appears that chaos reigns supreme down below. "That's all we need to hear about right now. We all hurt." And in spite of the wince of pain that registers on her features, she's trying very hard to disguise that particular fact about herself. Her head tilts back, squinting up into the sunlight above as she tries to make out the individual faces of those who didn't go tumbling into the pit. Some relief shows when it appears that another rider has materialized, but that's a matter best left for C'sei, whom she eventually locates in the dimmer light of the cavern. "How many of us are there?" Veresch's question finally seems to click with her, and she shifts her attention to the younger woman. "I'm fine, seems like." A shrug. "You? How's that one with you?" You know, the one who apparently can't swim.

Korsan surfaces with a gasp just beyond the waterfall's tumultous downpour, and he may or may not have gotten hit in the side of the head by Ealasaid's hand in the midst of breaking for air. But, fortunately it's not quite as firm as the rocks that continue to intermittently fall overhead, and it's only a coughing sound that presents instead of a sigh. Not that he could, of course, know who exactly that was. Veresch's call of his name reaches him first, light eyes narrowed in trying to make out whatever is 'round them. "Aye. Veresch?" Comes his breathy accent, strained slightly by the recall of whatever pains him, dulled to a faint throb currently in these immediate moments following the fall itself. A heavy piece of sandstone falls in front of him, cutting off his route- and fortunately not his head. "Bloody hell." Easy strokes take him towards that voice, lending waterlogged boots to eventually run upon gravelly bottoms and heft himself soaken onto cave floor. "C'sei?" He echoes of the voice that yells down to them, attention averted upwards- a revelation enough that communication can be made through the hole far above them. "More than enough, love." He replies to Ealasaid at her question of numbers, his sarcasm dry, unamused. "Plenty to keep you company."

C'sei wraps his fingers around his wrist, applying pressure to the stressed joint. He stares up at the little light that filters in through the hole. "M'tej?" He pays a somewhat more attention than he wants people to ever realize. Casting a look around in the dark, he shakes his head. He calls up to the brownrider, "Candidates, not sure how many! But it's quite a few!" Meanwhile Faenwyth is utterly uninterested in anyone or anything getting too close to her. She snubs Temyrth. "Stay away from the edge, I don't think it's stable. It could send the whole thing down on us! See if you can get supplies down here? Blankets! Food! Stuff like that." Just the important staples. For Ealasaid's question he remarks dryly, "Just my pride." And his wrist. But that's not important, it'll be fine. "I don't think anyone is dead!"

Tyzana feels useless. And she hates that. So, when M'tej arrives, she gives the brownrider a grateful look and an admonition to "Beware the edge, Sir. I think it's unstable…." She's going to gather what she can and then hie back to the Weyr. "I'm going to get back and prepare care packages." She announces. Full of dry blankets and lots of food and medicinal stuff, all wrapped in waterproof canvas. And that's exactly what she does.

From Temyrth's neck, "Sir!" This affirmation evidently back to C'sei. "Dry clothes?" M'tej hears water. He is already on the edge, but doesn't come closer. What he does do, however, while he's standing there, is tie the rope around his own waist before winging the rest of the rope back to Temyrth, or whomever might be bright enough to pick it up, in case the edge under M'tej's feet gives up. "Need medical supplies?"

There's suddenly wailing from near the waterfall, just off to the side where part of the slate sticks outwards adjacent to the shore which most have managed to crawl onto. The ledge catches some of the water to cascade it into its beautiful layers. But it's not so beautiful at the moment to Renric, who lays on it on his side, holding his lower leg- if anyone is close enough to see him. His screams rise in volume and pitch until anyone not nearby could swear it must be a ten turn old girl.

Veresch gives a slow sigh of relief as, up above, Luna settles down on a perch and she's left alone to tread water. She gives her fellow candidate a few moments, then starts swimming after, reaching stone herself soon and standing up. She coughs, unable to ignore the tickle in her lungs any longer, muffling the sound behind a hand. Looking around, she grimaces and turns to dive in again. She misses the others' questions somewhere in the midst of that dive, only to emerge when M'tej is shouting down. She makes for the others and slowly emerges from the water, dragging the water-logged pack behind her. "Lu…" Her firelizard's name breaks as she coughs again, and she winces as every noise down here echoes. Still, "M'tej?" It's barely a whisper, and a sniffle that's soon mastered, before she looks up for the blanket that Nasrin tossed down. Is that it, stuck a little above? Or a shadow? Pressing her lips shut, she leaves Ealasaid to mother the others up the side and out of the pool, instead kneeling to pour water out of the pack. "Wet rope, pitons, a hammer.. yes!" She crows out when she pulls out a large hunk of waybread wrapped in oil cloth, along with a couple of redfruit that have definitely seen better days now. And wait… is there a young girl down here with them?

Ephrem at long last drags himself out of the water, though there's really very little improvement. Its cold, he's waterlogged and miserable, sore, battered, and already starting to shiver. Three firelizards appear about him, anxiously inspecting him, crooning, chittering, and in general fanning him with their wings until he invites them to settle down on his lap. He hears crying and screaming from a child off somewhere in —-> that direction, but doesn't move from where he is. There's nothing he can do to help, and he is plum exhausted.

Does Ealasaid look somewhat relieved when familiar voices cut through the chaos and confirm that they're all in one piece? If so, it's probably just a trick of the light. Her jaw clenches as she begins a quiet inspection of herself, checking for anything beyond minor abrasions and bruises. There's a tear in her leggings, and it's with careful fingers that she rolls up the fabric to inspect what lies underneath. Whatever is there, it's quickly hidden as she tugs the fabric back down carefully. And that's about when the screaming starts. Her head snaps up, blue eyes wide and momentarily panicked — only for her to realize that it's not some poor, innocent little girl making that noise. "I'd rather I didn't have company," is uttered to Korsan as she gets to her feet, favoring one leg slightly, but it's barely noticeable amidst the chaos. A look goes to both Veresch and C'sei, as the former seems intent upon supplies and the latter is… thankfully not injured (supposedly). All is well! Except for that screaming, which is exactly what she's going to investigate.

From Temyrth's neck, "Veresch?" M'tej's rumbling voice has a touch of humor in that, "Imagine that, a hole in the ground and there you are. Now then, lass. You alright? And what the merry hell is a 'piton' and who would I ask for one?" Is it a fruit? A transportable boat? "And what else, if you're there for the long haul? Not too many folks roused about this yet." He crouches, an easy movement that does result in the popping of his knees. Temyrth, snubbed by the green, sidles forward until he can gently take the end of M'tej's rope in his teeth, long neck outstretched. See, green dragon - you keep a leash on your rider, and they don't fall in holes! Easy!

Korsan steps back when Ealasaid rises, a brow arched in whatever silent reply he has for her as she moves away towards wherever the wailing comes from and out of that small allowable circle of shadows that amounts for visibility. There's an exhale as he holds his arms out, his tunic dripping. There's a clear self-assessment as each ring, and whatever he must have in his pockets is touched lightly in confirmation. And rather than helping the candidate who tripped over the sharding rock in the first place, he sifts his hand into one of those pockets to pull out that precious flask he's never supposed to have. But in here? If his fingers were to toy with the cord of the cork that closes it, who would see? Or blame him, for that matter. Slow, stiffer steps take him towards one of the other shadows, Veresch being that one, pausing perhaps too-close behind her at an angle to listen to her shouted requests from the rider's voice above. "Glows, love." He says quietly enough for her, not hard-pressed to start shouting himself.

The shouting turns to sobbing as Ealasaid and Sameld who follows close behind the former get closer. Renric is not a brave boy, no, but he at least isn't causing all this noise ontop of the chaos for no reason. It's clear by simply the angle of it that his lower leg is broken, and he clings to it like it might as well fall off. To Ealasaid, those brown eyes of his could not possibly get any bigger, tears present but muted by how wet his face is from the mist that clings to him and the droplets that fall from his long dirty-blonde hair. "You gotta get me out of here! I can't walk. It's broken. I think it's broken! What if I can't- But..but.." Sobbing, anger, all the emotions of one lost to their distress, "Can't they sharding do something!" His volume rises despite their closeness, shouts of pain turning into directed anger at her.

"No, piton!" Veresch shouts up at nebulous M'tej-voice. "I got some! Rock climbers and miners use them, I managed to snaffle one of the packs before we fell in! But we're going to need some clothes and blankets and some healing supplies down here, it sounds like! Can you lower it down on a rope or something?" She shivers as Korsan passes, turning to stay his progress so that she can peer at his face for a moment before nodding. Is that… worry? Perhaps. "Glows!" she calls down to the poor brownrider above, thanking Korsan with a squeeze to his shoulder and a quiet whisper before she tries a smile. It's back to business then, with an "Okay everyone, take off what clothes you can spare, and clump up together. Everyone in one spot, older outside, younger inside. Hustle, before the clothes freeze on you." That might have set the fox amongst the hens, but wet chilly clothes in such a place is tantamount to an invitation to pneumonia. She'll set the example though, and get rid of her sodden outside layers.

"Right-O, ma'am." M'tej returns, "And I have a rope. Do you need that? More where that comes from." He's already untying the rope from around his waist. A glance back at the brown, who conveys news to Khetanaxeroth and Mzadith, to be relied in turn to Erei and Cayl. "I'll see what I can do. Here. Head's up." The rope, following the weight of a hasty knot tied in it, will sing down an arc toward the pit below. "Haul it in, or leave it like that if you want. Can you reach that?" M'tej already begins his retreat, carefully. He has no care to join that situation. His green lizard, his mobile eyes, darts down the length of the rope, wings through the onlookers in the cavern, and returns, even as M'tej hauls himself onto the brown's neckridges, just before Temyrth launches back into the sky and, after a single down-sweep, goes *between*.

There's a nod given to the pirate, some silent communication passed before Ealasaid's attention focuses entirely upon the girlish screamer. Carefully, almost awkwardly, the woman lowers herself to the boy's side, bending to inspect his leg. She may not have the practiced eye of a healer, but it doesn't take a genius to know a broken leg on sight. "We'll get you out," she promises quietly, her voice stern but calming. "The healers fix you right up, and you'll be walking before you know it." She carefully dodges that unspoken topic, because the likelihood that he'll make it to the sands is far smaller. Still, it seems the boy has enough to be hysterical about without the addition of that news. She turns to Sameld, ushering him off in the direction of Veresch and Korsan. "Go see if they've got anything we can use as a splint, so we can at least get his leg set." It's only after he leaves that her lips press together, her expression betraying more worry than she'd ever show to the two boys. When she looks back to Renric, it's with a slight smile. "They're getting supplies already, we'll be out of here in no time." Veresch's demands are ignored for the moment, although not missed.

To Veresch's pause of him, Korsan breathes a 'hmh' of a sound that might pass for a laugh-like effort, though there's little amusement in his curiously skewed but not exactly concerned-appearing expression. Those blue eyes of his watch her from the angle he keeps, whatever whisper passes to him given a faint nod as he tilts his head downwards to continue that observation of his flask. His thumb deftly passes over the monogram of it, before he utters, "I'll be fine." It's unconcerned, laced with that same confidence he carries in everything. But as with whenever things are not going swimmingly, his accent does ride heavier on his words. For one less than modest, it may be surprising that he isn't quick to strip, though he does watch as Sameld leaves Ealasaid's side to follow Veresch's example. Perhaps he's watching that growing pile of personal belongings too closely? Regardless, he's drawn back with an answer of "Aye," within a sigh, that flask tucked back away. "How exactly am I to help?"

Renric is not easily tamed in his panic and pain, despite the words of calm that meet his questions, if not answer them. But at least her presence and her assertions decrease the screeching wails to cries muffled as he lays his head down into his arms. "We ain't got any healers. We ain't gonna be okay. We're all gonna die." Words rambled onto each other, though his attention strays after Sameld who is so easily distracted by stripping off his wet and dirty gear instead of finding that splint he was instructed to get. The older boy has a terrible attention span and worse memory, something that would stand to be competition for a draconic partner if he lives long enough to Impress. He might be back with what Ealasaid asked for. Maybe. But then Renric's head picks up abruptly, his eyes wide with something else besides pain and inconsolable panic. "Where…." It starts out so soft, so quiet, building with the fear that bubbles beneath it. "….Where's Micyn?"

As expected, there's a whole lot of scandalised murmurs to follow that suggestion, and several catcalls that Veresch silences with one flat, hard look — even in the darkness. It's her speciality. "Make sure they huddle for warmth, and … keep an eye on them?" Pirate or not, he's one of the older candidates, so he'll just have to be in charge for now. Shivering, she takes off what she can afford without offending modesty too far and leaves it on a sopping wet pile, turning. Ignoring the renewed outburst of whispering at what the light gilds on her back, she takes one of the sodden ropes with a set jaw, rubs her hands dry on whatever space she may, and eyes the rope that dangles above, calculating how close she'll have to be to it to jump. There's a bare moment, where she looks at the mossy walls and calculates her chances, before she hears those fateful words. "Mycin?" she questions, looking around. "Back outside still, maybe?"

Ealasaid tries, she does, but she can't quite help but roll her eyes when Renric once again takes a turn for the dramatic. "It's not as though our presence here is a secret," she chastizes lightly, hopefully distracting him from the fact that she's attempting to roll up the leg of his pants without jostling that injured limb. "The dragonriders know, we've got supplies, we'll be fine. I know what I'm doing. Yours isn't the first leg I've set." That tone of hers makes it nearly impossible to tell whether that's true or not. Lips press together again as she inspects the damage, but there's a glint of determination in those blue eyes. Then, "Micyn?" A glance goes over her shoulder, back toward the water. For just a second there's panic, but she composes herself admirably as she turns back to the boy. "Wait here." Not that he's going much of anywhere with that leg, but it's more of a reassurance than anything else. "Sameld, get that splint before I strap you to his leg instead!" is shouted back for the distracted boy, before the woman dives back into the pool, hopefully to find nothing.

"He was right beside me.. I.. I… grabbed onto him. I pulled him in. It's my fault he's gone. He's dead! Micyn! MICYN!" Shrill voice renewed, Renric begins screaming after Veresch's response. And he only shuts up when Ealasaid plunges into the water in front of him, a hand lifting from his leg to shield his face from more water- as if it's such a threat. Within the pool of water, there is nothing but rubble, the water once-clear is terribly murky with the sand and other debris that has so thoroughly tainted it. The bottom is rough, some sharp rock shards threatening to snag those who try to dive too deeply or fumble around in spaces that they can't readily see. But there's no body. No evidence of anything other than that which dropped them into here in the first place. Could he have climbed out before the rest of them? The darkness beyond them, the candidates and unfortunate C'sei stuck with said candidates would soon find, branches off into a multitude of tunnelways. Caverns upon caverns worth. Did he, the surely braver of the pair, run off in his panic?

Sameld is halfway through stripping off his shirt when that threat reaches him, the soaked fabric clinging to his face as he rushes to say something muffled in defense of himself. He tries to move with his tunic over his head and trips over someone's leg, lending him face-first into the growing pile of garments. Grumbling ensues, but he manages to get the thing off, toss it away and stalk off towards the few that have gathered to reach for the supplies that begin to descend towards them. The ropes that hold such promises of life, sustenance, what little comforts that might be managed in their eerie new, hopefully temporary, home. The chubby young man can't see well enough to find anything worthwhile for a splint on the ground, so takes advantage of the well-timed supply drop.

Korsan scratches the back of his head roughly, messing his wet black hair into something of a dissheveled thing before he combs it back with fingers. Clearly he's not motivated for his assignment, but his tipped head with "As you wish," as his reply manages to give some indication that he'd make the effort. He only takes a couple of steps towards the huddled group that are a mixture of slow to follow the instruction, not following instruction, or rapidly trying to huddle with someone they're familiar with. A twitch of his lips passes his expression as he watches Sameld's fall, before the sound of the splash interrupts his task. "Ealasaid!" The pirate may not yell much, but this is quite an angry bark that sounds more like an order than concern. "What the hell are you doing?"

Veresch mutters something that might be a curse when the guard goes off diving into the water again, but her attention shifts to the baskets and things coming from below, heart warming just a little at M'tej's quick return. She moves to assist in offloading the baskets of things, and peers up at the sifting light to catch the brownrider's eye again and show two thumbs up. As the baskets lower almost to them, she measures the jump, takes a run and jumps up, catching one rope and suspending herself in the net of them so that she can tie her rope to them as well with a Herder's knot, making sure it's tied off and tight. After that it doesn't take much to skin up the rope with the people bracing above, and she finally liberates the blanket that's been snagged forever, tossing it down to Sameld. She grimaces as more pieces of rock loosen under the strain, and quickly slips down again, choosing to help distribute blankets and warm clothes. "I don't think the area is done shaking yet," she warns C'sei sotto voce.

A newly-soaked Ealasaid emerges from the water a minute later for a breath, before disappearing beneath the surface one more time. If Korsan's yell reaches her ears, she doesn't acknowledge it just yet. Her leg already knows the perils of that deeper water, and so she doesn't fall victim to it a second time. This venture is considerably shorter, and when she surfaces it's with a relieved shake of her head. "He's not there," she announces, mostly for Renric's benefit. "And if you're sure he fell down with you, that means he's well enough to be on his feet and not here." It's a good sign, if one ignores the fact that he could be anywhere right now. Dripping wet, the woman makes her way toward dry land again, crawling up beside Renric. It's only once she's back on dry land that she looks to Korsan with atroubled frown, as though she can't fathom the reason for such shouting. "I was looking for damned body," she snaps back, perhaps with more venom than is strictly necessary. Some of that anger ends up directed toward Sameld, as she insists, "Now, Sameld!"

Renric himself has grown stiffly quiet, unless one gets right up next to him in which it can be heard that he's murmuring jibberish to himself. "He's gone, he's gone he'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgone…." He doesn't handle stress well, apparently. Perhaps all candidacies should have cave-ins for weeding out the weak, a la survivor style. He's sitting up, at least, on that ledge, instead of remaining pitifully and helplessly on his side, still cradling his leg to himself. Sameld finally, finally fishes out a medical kit from the lowered supplies baskets and hurries in a semi-jog, floundering over rocks and uneven surfaces alike, to get back to Ealasaid. The kit essentially flies out of his hands towards her as he almost makes it there, and trips. Again."S-Sorry. Sorry, I found it!"

It's fortunate that there isn't much lighting, since the look that flickers across Korsan's face is something between disbelief, frustration and concern. Especially when not only is Ealasaid swan diving into unsafe waters, but Veresch is attempting to climb up the rope towards the sandstone that already shifts and cracks without the help of additional weight. The pirate starts towards Ealasaid as the moves for land again, but is stopped by some of the debris rocked free by the movement of the rope and supplies slid across and down into the awkward, treacherous fall point. Narrowed eyes and an unhumored, furrowed expression looks up at the blackened maw that signals the way they'd come. "Off the bloody rope. Are you two both trying your hardest to not make it back out of here?" As if he knows! Does he know? He's no Igen native. Surely he can't. "We can look when we get light." Hence the glows and whatever else M'tej and the other riders had brought them. "The dead won't get more dead." If there are any, which clearly is not a sensitive subject to him.

Veresch scoots off the ropes quickly enough as glows start being passed along, though there's a fulminating look towards the two at the lake as delicate topics such as bodies and dead get bandied around, which doesn't make a wonderful impression on the other candidates. There's a set of subdued sniffles and a pinched-off wail as one girl starts to cry. Grimacing, she takes a blanket and hands it out for the shyer girls to scoot in behind. It's then that she takes a couple of towels, and marches down to the two of them, eyeing Korsan and Ealasaid by turns. "Look," she says as quietly as she can, which isn't much since she's feeling forceful. "I don't care what's going on between the two of you, but pull it together and stop snarling." She tosses the towels at Ealasaid. "You two can go right back to two-stepping around each other once we're outside again, but for now, shut it." Her eyes narrow, hiding the febrile glimmer deep inside as she stares at them. Then, turning on her heel, she passes by Sameld, makes her way to Renric, eyes him once and gives him an almighty punch, knocking to poor guy out cold. "Bring me the damn kit," she grates.

If Ealasaid notices Korsan's growing frustration and concern, she gives no indication. It just rolls off her back, which is all she offers to him as she tends to Renric. "He's not gone, he's just not here," she soothes, although there's an edge to her voice that hints at her own growing anger at the situation. She's keeping it together as best she can, but the tightness held in her jaw and shoulders says more than any words which spill from her lips. One hand presses to her temple as Sameld comes running toward her and practically throws the box in her direction. It hits the ground hard, but it doesn't seem as though anything is lost in the process, and Ealasaid quickly retrieves it before it can go sliding into the water. "About time," is her scolding mutter, before she ushers the awkward boy closer. "You, you're going to hold him." She indicates for Sameld to take a place behind Renric, but then along comes Veresch and knocks the poor boy out cold. For a moment, the blonde simply stares in disbelief, but then her tone turns sharp. "Are you fucking insane? Get back over there to the fucking supplies and let me deal with this," she snaps, glaring up at the other girl. "And the next time you so much as think of knocking out another injured candidate, you'll deal with me directly."

Korsan's attention on the injured lad is minimal, and when his words go unheeded by the two he actually does lend some value of effort towards, he lifts a hand to rub it roughly over his face. Ring-laden fingers drag slowly over the usually well-maintained hair of his face, light eyes watching the group on the ledge out of their corners before the supplies is regarded. Much of it has been laid out, some candidates likely taking inventory of what the riders presented them with. The seaman himself stoops beside some pile, selecting some items out of it. Slide of hand in the dark easily unseen, and smooth enough that he must simply be rearranging it too. Many work on passing glows around now, the cavern slowly becoming uncovered of its shadows by the eerie glow of each of them spread out along its perimeter. Some bob along as people carry them. Some have settled in for the night, knowing well nobody's going anywhere for some time. Exhaustion keeps much of the attention at bay, especially since Renric had made such a uproar before. Ignoring that direction has likely become a common theme.

"Feel better now?" Veresch asks Ealasaid blandly as she checks Renric's wrist first, then peels back an eye. "Now that you've had your shout on? I know how hard to hit someone that has a possible concussion. I also know how much it's going to hurt if you have to clean and splint a break like that with only minimal healing training, in a cave full of gloopy shit, with no fellis. But by all means shout further, since it's doing us so much good, and tell me when you want to start throwing down." As blandly said, without much concern at all. Still, she stands, mission accomplished, and goes to look for dry clothing, humming as she passes by the pirate. Now, where's that waybread?

Once again, Ealasaid's hand goes to press against her forehead. "How hard to hit someone with a possible concussion?" It's disbelief that colors her voice, with a hint of that anger. "You don't hit someone with a possible concussion. There's no level of punching which is acceptable in that scenario. Just be glad you haven't just accidentally killed someone and get over this ridiculous need to be right all the time." With the initial shock of Renric being knocked out past her, the blonde's tone is much more even, although it remains underscored by frustration and tension. But with those words, she turns away from Veresch and focuses on the task at hand, made slightly more difficult by the fact that Sameld isn't all that skilled at maneuvering a limp body. Still, somehow between the pair of them they leverage Renric into a position which allows for Ealasaid to set his leg as best she can. The sound of it is unfortunately loud in the echoing cavern, but it's over quickly (and with no screaming), which seems a small favor. She's no expert, but her basic training has served her today — enough that she's able to bind up his leg, and hopefully leave him in better condition than she found him. And with that, the blonde heads off to find a glow for herself, possibly vanishing down one of those tunnels without another word.

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