About the Craft

 

A Harper's Life

 

Events in the Harperhall

 

Meet the Harpers

 

In the Vaults

Comet Strike!

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MOO Time:   2002-08-10 16:36:55

And on Pern ...

   The time is 11:36 .

   It is noon of the eightieth day of autumn.

   It is the thirty-second Turn of the Tenth Pass.

   The noon sun's rays shine in a diffuse amber glow through the haze of smoke filling the Istan skies. The wind continues to blow, blistering everything in its path with smoke and ash.

 

Main Hall and Ballroom

The echoing space of the formal Ballroom is a mosaic of mosaics.  The floor is covered with a precise and colorful ocean, slim pillars of smooth marble reaching up to support the balcony overhead.  The low, flat ceiling decorated with bright golden-yellows and reds in a depiction of a partial eclipse of Rukbat.  Beyond the cover of the balcony, the space rises in an airy arch far overhead, an ironwork window round over the gracefully curving marble staircase.

An elaborate mural lines the walls, stretching from the mosiac on the floor to the ceiling.  One the 'northwall' and 'southwall' are portraits of some of Pern's influential Masterharpers.  The 'eastwall' and 'westwall' show aspects of harper life.

Watching from a bit of artistically carved lintel are four firelizards.

 

Mynd walks with silent footsteps in through an arch from the great hall.

 

Ylisa walks down the curving staircase from the balcony hallway.

 

A stirring ripples through the firelizards perched throughout the Hall, their shrieks and chitters of agitation sounding loud in the morning stillness.

 

The ground suddenly seems to fall away from you, then just as quickly snaps back, throwing you to the ground. There is a loud roar, and a violent rumbling, as the ground bobs up and down, vibrating as though it had been plucked like a string. Rocks tumble off of hillsides, and walls crack under the sudden force.

 

Kirsyn walks in.

 

The wrenching noise of twisting metal and scraping rock rings out from the direction of the ballroom, the great staircase beginning to shake in concert with the rest of the building.

 

Mynd was already dashing through the Hall, and making his quick way up the stairs when the ground shudders, the journeyman letting out a yelp as he grabs hold of the banister. Dropping to one knee on the steps, the harper just..hangs on. Not much more one /can/ do.

 

The violent, roaring quake continues; cracks split the ground and walls, and the shuddering earth makes it difficult to stand. People and creatures alike panic as the ground seems to come apart under the tremors.

 

Niara screams as she is thrown off the bench she'd been stretched out on, landing with scraped hands and knees on the ground, looking up at the heart-stopping scene of swaying metal, rocks, and Mynd.

 

Ylisa picks herself up after the initial shock, moving very slowly, then turns as the staircase starts its gyrations, and calls,  "Out!  We need to get out of here!"  She turns towards the door, but after a couple of steps, the shaking floor throws her down again.  Twisting as she tries to get back to her feet, she notices there's someone on the staircase. "Mynd!"

 

Kirsyn dashes out of her apprentice dormitory, hair disheveled and her bag and firelizards all her possessions at the moment.  As the ground shudders again, Kirsyn cries out while she is thrown to the floor in the shake.  "Out!  Oh...please, out," she manages to gasp quickly, a tear or two streaking down her face in desperation.

 

Niara's face goes white as she realizes what is happening.  "Mynd!  We can't leave him!  The stairs!" she cries out, hoping that someone older and wiser will figure out what she's talking about.

 

From the workshops come the sounds of breaking wood and falling objects.  Doors are shook off their hinges, and chunks of rock and plaster begin to fall from the ceiling.  The staircase starts to crumple, in a horrible slow-motion.

 

The tremors seem to shake apart hold and weyr alike. Walls crumble, doorways set ajar by the ripping stone. The violent shaking continues.

 

A rumble from the High Reaches Weyr message drums in basic drum code produces the following message: Ground shaking.  Quakes here.  Drums may not make it through.

 

Stairs go down...and so does Mynd, with a cry before the harper gives nothing else but silence. Body chunked of the descending, twisted stairs landing with a rather distinct crunching noise, rolling limply. Well..at least he didn't land /under/ the stairs, right?

 

A rumble from the Tillek Hold message drums in basic drum code produces the following message: Volcano appears to be becoming active, quakes here also.

 

Kirsyn cries out as the stairs go down.  "Mynd!"  Only recently learning his name, it's slightly better than 'him' at the moment, but Kirs's face goes white in shock as she stumbles over in that direction from her place down on the floor (most fortunately not near the stairs when they went down).

 

Ylisa can't actually move too well with the ground doing what it's doing.  She watches aghast as the staircase  collapses, vaguely aware of others in the room, then makes a real effort to get herself together.  "Mynd, Kirsyn, Niara?  Are you OK?  Mynd?  Oh, shells."  She tries again to get to  her feet, and this time succeeds, wobbling precariously towards the staircase.

 

After what seems like an eternity, the rumbling begins to abate. Dust fills the already smoke-filled air.

 

Niara had managed to duck back under the bench she'd recently vacated as the stairs crumble, otherwise she'd might have joined the pile of rubble.  As it is, she ends up being the closest to the scene.  She holds her breath as the rumbling stops, afraid of what might be next.  "I can't see him," she calls out to the others in the room.  "Is it over?"

 

With a last few rumbles and screeches of toppling objects and splintering wood, all grows quiet.  The silence hangs almost as heavy as the choking clous of plaster and rock dust that hangs in the air.

 

Another rumble, and an aftershock rips across the island, tossing more dust and debris.

 

Mynd is there, indeed, a limp form on the ballroom floor. Thankfully, he's not buried in the staircase rubble, though bits of plaster do litter the floor around him, dusting him as things seem to settle down a bit.  There's no movement though from the journeyman.

 

Kirsyn chokes out an "I'm all right," to Ylisa, and she manages to wobble over towards where Mynd should be, and where Ylisa and Niara are or are approaching; Kirs can't see as well as the dust clouds her vision.  "Oh!" she cries, getting closer to the spot.  "Is he...going to be all right?"

 

Niara screams again as the aftershock heaves the hall once again, but the calm follows quicker this time.  "Stay where you are till it's over" she calls out, scanning the pile that used to be the staircase until she spots the crumpled form of Mynd.

 

Ylisa eyes the ceiling, worry and fear evident on her face, but she's over the initial urge to freeze to the spot.  "I think it's stopped again," she says shakily, waving a hand in front of her face in a vain attempt to disperse the dust and heading carefully towards the remains of the stairs.  "But there could be aftershocks... and I guess the walls and ceiling may not be too stable.  We should try to get us all out of here."  She drops to her knees next to Mynd. "Mynd?  Can you hear me?"

 

Niara crawls stiffly out from under the stone bench, patting it's leg gratefully as she emerges.  "Is he okay?  Can we move him, or should I try to find a healer?" she offers, the helplessness evident in her voice.

 

Mynd probably can't, unfortunately. Upon closer inspection, the Harper's right arm is twisted at a rather unnatural angle, other cuts marring him from his trip downward. That, and the slight redness beginning to be visible under all that dust and falling debris, beneath Mynd's head.

 

Kirsyn ignores Niara's order to stay put, inching nearer to Mynd, but not going over-far until Ylisa states that it's stopped for a moment.  "I've no idea what we should do.  I'm...I'm not a Healer!" she whispers.  A closer look causes her to moan and cover her eyes.  "Blood?  Will there be blood?  Oh Faranth, let us come out of this in pieces."  Odd...but preferable to not coming out at all, to Kirsyn's way of thinking.

 

Ylisa looks carefully at Mynd.  "He's right out of it...and I think he's broken his arm: it's sort of bent ... and yes, he's bleeding.  He's hurt his head - no wonder he's out cold.  We shouldn't move him... but it's probably none too safe in  here, either.  What's it like outside?  Can we actually get out?"

 

Main Hall and Ballroom

The calm beauty of the ballroom has been violently disrupted.  A heavy layer of rock and plaster dust covers exposed surfaces, with motes of it hanging in the air and choking the lungs.  The many murals are chipped, paint flakes shook loose and fallen to join the detrius on the ground, while the airy arch of the ceiling beyond the cover of the balcony is mocked by the shattered ruins of the curved staircase now lying in ruined and jagged heaps on the cracked marble of the mosaic'd floor.

Watching from a bit of artistically carved lintel are four firelizards. Mynd, Ylisa, and Kirsyn are here.

 

Well, Mynd's firelizards are still around, and hovering, creeling anxiously. At least the harper's alive, right? Breathing is a bit shallow though, the journeyman definately unconscious.

 

Kirsyn shudders.  "I don't know...I just remember hurrying out of the Dormitory after some things started to crash, and, and.  It could crash on us here, right?  But if we go outside...would that be worse?"  Running a hand through disheveled hair, trying to neaten it out, Kirs lets go a sight.  "Blood?  Oh.  I think I can manage."

 

Niara crosses the room, dodging chunks of plaster and wood to check the hall.  With a quick peak, she turns back and calls, "I think it's not as bad out here..." Shard, Mynd...if you were going to get hurt, why not at a more convenient time?  Like when there was someone around to help?

 

Mynd will definately put that into consideration the next time he's on a collapsing stairwell.

 

Ylisa coughs as the dust in the air starts to get to her throat.  "If there's nothing above us, it can't fall on us."  Obviously.  "We'd need to get right into open space."  She turns back to peering intently at the journeyman, and extending a hand, gently squeezes his shoulder on the uninjured side.  "Mynd?"  A gentle shake.  "Mynd?  You're right, Niara, we could do with a Healer.  If there's one to be found.  Or a stretcher."

 

Niara  pokes her head back out into the hallway, waving frantically at someone.  A brief conference, raised voices, and then just Niara.  "No one'll come... The damage is really bad and they told me if we want help, we gotta get him to it.  To the Great Hall..." Her eyes are wide and would be angry...if they weren't so scared.

 

Kirsyn nods.  "Stretcher.  Err, I've no idea - could one possibly be found somewhere?" she asks weakly, looking about.  "Or are we going to have to make one on the spot?  Curtains might be good for that."  Despite it all, Kirsyn is determined to /try/ and not be the panic-stricken helpless person she seems to herself.

 

Mynd isn't waking with the shaking of his shoulder, head merely lolling to the side from the motion. Yep. Out of it.

 

Ylisa nods.  "Thought as much - thanks, Niara.  Curtains...." she gives that a moments's thought, glancing round the ruins of the room.  "Or something flat - a board, a - a door?  Is there a door off that we could use?  Less risk of hurting him any more if we can put him on something flat."

 

Kirsyn hmms.  "Maybe tear down a curtain as some sort of rudimentary cushioning for the door?  Err, that is, if we find one around here.  A whole one, right?  A broken one might not be big enough, and there might be splinters, right?"  Unsure of herself, Kirsy's trying to sort-of help, at least.

 

Mynd is unconscious. Really, comfort isn't his biggest priority right now. He won't complain about not having a pillow.

 

Niara circles around the room, looking for some piece of fallen something or other to use.  She pulls the edge of her shirt up and over her mouth, trying to control some of the coughing that the smoke is causing.

 

Ylisa is still searching the room with  her eyes.  "Or maybe we just carry him."  She moves round into a position behind him.  "Someone give me a hand?"

 

Kirsyn nods, tight-lipped at the prospect of nearing blood, but resolute none-the-less.  "I can...offer my hands?" she suggests, already walking over to him and preparing to be of some use in the mess.

 

Niara is a little too small to be useful in this undertaking, except to help direct them through the littered room and hold a door open.  "Try to put something under his head to stop the bleeding," she offers.

 

Ylisa nods.  "Good idea - anyone got something they can use?  Now, how...  Kirsy, remember how kids carry each other in a chairlift?  The  one where you use three arms for the seat and the other as a backrest?  If I get an arm under his shoulders, and sit him up a bit, could you and I make a seat like that?"

 

Kirsyn nods.  "I'll try, Ylisa.  So...I simply stretch my arms out like this, to give him a seat?"  A flurry of hair heralds Kirsyn's turn to Niara.  "That might be a good use for the curtain-stuff.  Whaddaya think, Ylisa?" she asks quickly, hovering.

 

Niara reaches under her skirt, tearing off a long piece of her undercoat in one solid yank. "Here...this might help," she says as she crosses to Mynds side, Kneeling by his head, and quickly wrapping the rag around his head.  "Won't do for long, but it might help till we get him to the healers."  She stands back up, and step back, ready to offer her free hands for whatever they might need.

 

Liesana steps silently in through an arch from the great hall.

 

Ylisa lifts her hands, clasping one wrist in the other hand.  "Ah... I think I'll use my left hand, so you hold yours /so/ - I think that's right.  And Niara, can you steady his head as we move him?"  She crouches beside the journeyman, ready to use her legs to lift his weight.

 

Mynd is..yep..still unconscious, and hopefully will remain unconscious through the entire moving process. If not, the lung capacity of this Harper just might get shown off. He can scream. Loudly. Cough. But lets hope he doesn't wake up.

 

Niara spies Liesana's entrance out of the corner of her eye and nearly melts in relief.  But Ylisa's voice snaps her back to attention and she steps forward, cradling Mynd's head obediently.

 

Kirsyn nods at Niara, lopsided grin crossing her features.  "Or...that might work, too."  And Ylisa's instructions are followed and given mute nods.  "All right - I think I'm ready to lift when you are, Ylisa."  Biting her lip and re-situating her weight, she prepares for lift-off.  Liesana is shot a relieved look, of course.

 

"Dear sweet skies..." mutters Liesana, surveying the ruins of the Hall.  And then, naturally, she notices Mynd and his gaggle of hesitant paramedics.  "Bloody shards, what /happened/ to him?  There are Healers in the Great Hall... how is his pulse and breathing?"  Liesana is in full fight-or-flight, and her barrage of questions arrives at lightning speed as she steps over towards the group.  "Careful, easy now.  Have you made sure that his neck can't move when you lift him?"

 

Niara peaks over the body, Mynd's head carefully held in her hands.  "We're trying...the stairs collapsed and he's bleeding," Nia explains, as if that was all just a natural sequence of events.

 

Ylisa is concentrating hard, and doesn't notice Liesana until she speaks.  Then she looks up with relief visible on her face.  "Liesana!"  One breath, then she's ready to answer. "Niara's steadying his head.  Oh, I need to do something about his arm though - tuck it into his shirt.  His breathing's shallow - we need to get him out of here as soon as we can, the ceiling doesn't look good."

 

Kirsyn nods mutely, concurring with what the other apprentices have said.  "He's bleeding," she reiterates, mostly to herself, looking at the arm, and considering how it could exactly tuck into Mynd's shirt, before nodding.  "Sounds fine to me.  I do hope he's okay..."  A nibble on her lip (one of worry), follows.

 

"Just leave the arm," counsels Liesana, who, after all, isn't without knowledge of broken bones.  Admittedly, they were /her/ broken bones.  Now, do any of you know how to perform a Guardsman's Carry?  He's alive, let's just move him out of here as quickly as possible..."  A piece of stone from the ceiling crashes down on the other side of the room, prompting a swallow.  "Er, especially since we don't know how /stable/ it is in here..."

 

Niara shakes her head and steps back. She's still not going to be very much help in carrying the injured man.

 

Ylisa glances in startlement at the falling masonry, then purses her lips and tries to recall the lift that Lies is suggesting.  Frowning, she admits, "I don't.  We were going to do a chairlift, with an arm across.  And that arm's at a real angle - if the bones break the skin..."

 

"It's no more than twenty paces to the triage center they've got out there, and immobilizing that arm will take precious time."  decrees Liesana.  "I don't know if the ceiling here is going to come down or not, so just keep his arm still when you lift, and that should be enough.  It takes force to break the skin."  That said, the Master crouches down next to her former mentee and nods to Ylisa.  "Right, then.  You and I are probably the strongest here.  Kirsyn, support his neck, and Niara, you can steady his arm.  Places, then on three."

 

Kirsyn nods, heading over to her place, supporting the neck, and readies herself for Liesana to issue the command of 'three' and thusly 'go.'  Swallowing a gulp of nervous apprehension, her fidgets are stilled.  "Will we be able to be of some help once we get there?" she asks tentatively.

 

Mynd will soon recieve medical attention! Yay! This pleases him. See the smile? ..Well..alright no, probably not. But he's /thinking/ about smiling.

 

Falada walks in.

 

Niara is at her position, trying not to touch the grotesquely bent limb, but ready to support it once in the air.

 

Ylisa nods.  "Right."  She stretches out her hand underneath Mynd's legs to meet up with Liesana's hands, and slips her other hand under his shoulders, reaching towards the Master's shoulder. "Ready when you are."

 

Kirsyn nods as well, echoing Ylisa's words as she steadies herself.  "Exactly.  When you give the word, Master Liesana."

 

"... Three" grunts Liesana, lifting her side of Mynd in concert (hopefully) with Ylisa.  "Now, steady on there.  Let's get him to the door and some help.  Nice and easy.  Niara, keep an eye on that arm...

 

You go to the Great Hall.

 

The Harper is back... and she's brought friends.  Or, actually this is far from a social call.  Liesana, along with Ylisa, Kirsyn, and Niara, is hauling in an unconscious Journeyman Mynd with what looks to be a very broken arm and a head wound bleeding like only headwounds can.  And her player hopes she's got the injury tally right. "Staircase is collapsed... is there a Healer free?"

 

With Aerrin bent in intense concentration over a rather nasty fracture, no one seems to be directing traffic in the Great Hall - the place is a mad flurry of blood, bandages, patients, and Healers, many shouting above the noise in search of a loved one or requesting a mass of bandages. For her part, Aerrin's up to her elbows in redwort and reaching for a large tin of numbweed.

 

Synte shifts uncomfortably, watching the activities with pain-dulled eyes. His eyes snap up the scene of Liesana and the harpers -- including that short one with a headwound. A shudder. "Can I /help/ at all?" From his chair. He can direct traffic! Cough.

 

Boom! The doors open and two shaken riders - N'zgul and Pae - enter the area, not-so-quietly entering the area. Pae's at a loss for words, but N'zgul takes care of it. "Hey!" he exclaims. "Can anyone give us some help?" Pae rolls her eyes. "What th'young one means, is can 'Igh Reaches Weyr bring th'seriously 'urt 'ere? We can't 'andle it all with only one 'ealer." Can anyone understand either rider? Nobody knows. Yet.

 

Kirsyn supports Mynd's neck, as asked by Liesana, trying to carefully maneuver about.  She's starting to feel the wear 'n tear as well, gasping every so often, though infrequent enough that it seems clear to her it's no real problem.  "Yes," she manages to croak.  "Staircase collapsed."

 

Graiham pats the kid on the leg and then heads over toward the newly arrived Harper group. "Put him on that cot," he says, pointing to the one next to the little kid. "And I'll take a look at the head, but... Where'd Kylianna go?" He whirls in a circle, looking for the Journeyman in question. Chaos!

 

Kylianna has cleaned out the wound, peering at the gash for another other bits as she liberally applies redwort. Her stitches are a little quicker this time, the glaze of numbweed having sent the woman into a slightly more calm state, but the stitches are going more quickly, lining down the leg. "It'll leave a bit of a scar, but it'll fade. Not too bad...," she reassures with a soft voice, though as she glances towards the door, she swallows hard. "Let's get you finished," she mutters hurriedly, her pace of stitching still careful and steady.

 

Fareia is just standing in the middle of the chaos, glancing over the people straggling in. "I'm free, I'm free. Take a seat on one of the couches for a minute?" A bandage is held out to Liesana,"Press that on his head, okay?" And with that the healer turns to the other harper  master, "Master Kurt. What did you do now?" asks Fare as she ushers him towards a couch.

 

Mynd is..carried. Well go figure. He's certainly not walking anywhere by himself, being unconscious. Stupid ungrateful staircase, falling down while he's walking on it. Really, how mean of it. Still, his breathing is a bit labored, only taking in short breaths.

 

Kurt's hair, which had been cropped to chin length stands out in an unruly dusty mess, lacking its usual style. The Harper might be unrecognizable, but he doesn't help by not making much effort to identify himself. Instinctively he tries to comfort the wailing child, just staring straight ahead as if completely in shock. "Hey, can I help you?" a random helper asks, waving a hand in front of his face. "Master Aerrin, we have a child...maybe two, three turns?" she announces, indicating Kurrin.

 

Dona runs from her hiding place, spots Mynd and latches on, remarkably quiet.

Polopcolloquirenae piles some more bandages on the table, feeling her knees start to wobble.  Deciding this might be a good chance to move on to someplace more useful, or a resting place.  With careful steps she makes her way out of the area, and onto other places. 

 

Ylisa can't concentrate on anything else except picking her way through the rubble while she's carrying Mynd, but once he's safely on the indicated cot, she straightens up, rubbing aching hands together, and looks round.  "However did they get all this organised so quickly?"  Then she stands blinking for a few seconds, just taking it all in.  "What now?"

 

Magen carrying in more buckets of clean water, looks at the scene before her. Riders from High Reaches wanting to transport patients here. And a man carrying a child. Magen suddenly recognizes the man with child. Turning to Master Aerrin, she gently tries to get her attention. To get Aerrin to turn around...

 

Keliana thanks Morallen faintly with a mutter and sits down on the cot, glancing about the room with blurry eyes. Helen, however, doesn't seem to trust this dusty-haired healer. She screeches and flutters about her humanpet, not quite scratching Morallen but not quite letting him near. Keli faintly protests and tries to speak Helen down, without much success as she hadn't quite made herself loud. The skinned knee has finished turning colors and is now slowly oozing down her knee, and the arm hangs limply at her side, marring her dress crimson.

 

Liesana takes the bandage and stares at it for a moment as Fareia scuttles away.  And then gamely turns to the other Harpers.  "Right... you heard the lady, let's get him down on the cot, girls,"  the young Master directs, unaware of the presence of Kurt or Kurrin as she focuses on her unconscious mentee.  Who now has a kidlet attached to him.  "Dona, come stand over by me, sweetie,"  she urges.  "We need to be able to leave the Healers room to help Mynd."  But, since she's been tasked to deal with his headwound herself, the Harper Master gingerly peels away the cloth covering the wound as soon as the Journeyman is settled, and applies the bandage and pressure.

 

Kirsyn nods nervously, shooting glances at the much-battered (in her opinion) Mynd every so often.  "Yeah.  Umm, what do they want us to do with him?" she asks quietly, nodding in obvious relief as Liesana steps in to answer her question.  So Kirsyn also takes up her part of the load of heft Mynd to the cot.

 

Dona doesn't move, but stays near Mynd's side. "He's MY harper and I need to help, too!" she says defensively, pretty much trying to ignore the fact she has no idea where her twin is and is trying not to think about her and panic.

 

Seeing someone invariably more qualified on the case for Mynd, Graiham heads over toward the newly entered riders, directing some dazed looking soul out of the way as he passes. "The seriously hurt?" he repeats, crossing hastily. "No.

No, absolutely no." Just in case it was overlooked thus far, "No. You can't bring seriously hurt people Between. But if you guys are that swamped, we can bring a few Healers to them instead. Will that work?"

 

Morallen settles on the cot beside Keliana, recognizing the symptoms of shock and realizing he might not get much cooperation from her.  Gently, he picks up the wounded arm and begins to clean it with the redwort solution, tapping her

fingertips with his own and watching critically for a reflex response.  "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?"  he tries again.  With a wound that deep, one has to watch for nerve damage. 

Once Mynd is settled, Ylisa watches for a few seconds as Liesana attends to the head wound. Then she frowns, and takes a deep breath, expression momentarily distant as if she's trying to remember something.   Turning slightly, she says quietly to Liesana, "Lies, nobody came past us when we were in there."  No need to say where.  "There must be people upstairs, and in the workshops."

 

Keliana finally talks (or yells, whatever you'd call it) Helen down to resting on the cot's edge, fluttering about it anxiously. Keli reaches out her arm with a very audible intake of breath and a cringe, and that cringe deepens as she wiggles her fingers slightly. "It-it really hurts," She stutters, cramping her eyes closed and gritting her teeth. Her movements are still slow and reflexes are off; and she still wobbles slightly. 

 

Liesana hisses under her breath at Ylisa's words.  "Shards... well, the worshops, it could just be that the doors are jammed shut, right...?"  hazards the Master, attempting optimism.  "As for the upper rooms, people have probably,

quite sensibly, decided to wait until someone could fetch them a ladder."  She continues to exert an even pressure on Mynd's head wound, having been a survivor of Jathen's first aid class for non-Healers.  "Once Mynd is settled, we'll get a party together with ropes and ladders."  she decrees, before silencing suddenly at the drumcode message.  "Smoke and ash at Gar Hold,"  she translates, loud enough for any interested to hear.  "They request Healers." 

 

"One moment... can you look at them, please? I'm in the middle of..." Aerrin trails off without ever looking over her shoulder at the Healer and patients. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration, and she grunts slightly as she /heaves/ on the bone, attempting to slide the nasty fracture back into place.  

 

"We can ask on that," N'zgul replied sharply. "Bringing Healers along...we can do that. If there's anyone willing to come.." Pae, on the other hand, looked skeptical and muttered to her bronzeriding companion. "Naz, there's no place t'keep any more--" He cut her off. "We're stuck on the Sands, see, taking care of people, and it's...er, difficult." Pae kicked him in the shins. /She/ was supposed to be the diplomat.

 

Fareia drags some supplies over to Mynd, nodding to Liesana and waving her hand away, placing a fresh bandage on the injury, "Thank you..." Dona is eyed for a moment before the healer leans down to the girl, "Sweety, we need to take care of

him. the best way you can help is to go sit in that chair over there...And I bet someone has a sweetstick for you if you go and ask.." With that, Fare further inspects Mynd's head. "I think..." a glance to the harpers who brought him in, "What's his name? Can you keep that bandage there until it stops bleeding?"  Fare wrinkles her nose up as she discovers the broken arm. "Ouch. This needs to be set.." A glance at Mynd, "Hmm....What do I do if my patient's not awake for me to question?" she calls to any nearby ranker.

 

"I'm going to numb it as soon as possible," assures Morallen, squeezing her uninjured hand reassuringly as he finishes cleaning the wound on the other arm.

 

And, as promised, one of the surviving tubs of numbweed is produced and, after redworting his hand, applied.  "Now, you tell me when this is so numb you can't feel anything, got it?"  Hazel eyes settle steadily on the Weaver's face for a

moment.  "It doesn't look like you've got any nerve damage to worry about, so once this heals, you'll be right as rain." 

Kirsyn looks nervous at the possibility of more harpers being locked away, or injured, or worse - but maintains her calm, thanks to Liesana's words.  Luckily so; for Kirsyn in a panic is not really a Kirsyn anyone wants to deal with,

truthfully. 

 

Dovella skips quietly in from the Main Hallway.

 

Liesana gives Dona an encouraging little nod, before, as senior Harper of the contingent, taking it upon herself to speak with Fareia.  Of course, the apprentices can always add in their 2/32nds.  "His name is Mynd, he's a Journeyman Harper... and my mentee,"  she murmurs.  "He was on our hall's staircase when it collapsed underneath him."  She steps back to give the healer room to work, and gives Kirsyn a reassuring smile.

 

Hedging a little and being hounded by the little kid who got the stitches earlier, Graiham tries to keep the sharp edge out of his voice as much as possible as he explains, "Well, you can't bring seriously injured people Between. So you two need to work out what you want to do and get back to me." He crouches next to the kid then, explaining carefully, "You have to leave the

bandage on, or else you'll make it worse, and then we might have to cut off your arm." Hyperbole can be so effective with little kids. 

 

If you're injured and you know it, raise your hand! If you're injured and you know it, raise your hand! If you're injured and you know it, then the blood will surely show it, if you're injured and you know it, raise your hand!!! 

Dona starts to back away from Mynd, looking like tears might start to flow from her eyes  at  any moment, but she's really trying to be brave even if reality seems very unreal, now.  Panic starts to rise as thoughts of Andria 's absence nibble at her mind, but she sees Dovella and heads in her direction. 

 

Dovella comes in, tears streak her face as she clutches a stuffed ovine to her chest. She looks at all the chaos and just can't quite comprehend it. Why is this happening? She's a little traumatized of course. A few cuts and scrapes show themselves on her brow and knees from all the tremors and such.  

 

Niara has disconnected.

 

Kirsyn contains a whimper - for the harperlet, it's all starting to sink in that this is /real/, now.  But placing her worries about the conditions of friends and families at the back of her mind, Kirs nods at Dona as she goes over to Dovella.  "Hopefully, he'll be fine!"  And trail-off to a sigh.  Hopefully /everyone/ will somehow pull through.

 

"Fine, give us what you can," N'zgul snaps. Pae eyes him reproachfully. "We'll take someone back with us, I s'pose...'ealers we need, aye." Funnyvoice. "We've got pregnant folks as well as many injured...an' a few injured dragons as

well.." Stammerstammer. "'Elp would be wond'ful." 

Rune blinks in from :: between ::

 

Dona backs herself against a wall and lets out a startled yelp just before she starts to sink to the floor,  eyes wide at all the goings on. Her mind becomes numb and she stares as she starts a quiet whimpering. 

 

"Kirsyn, Ylisa," murmurs Liesana to the two Harper apprentices remaining, pointing out Dona, Dovella and Merevan.  "Those children will need a hug and someone to talk to, once the Healers have cleared them.  Normally, we'd take them to a Mindhealer, but today... I doubt they'll be the worst off.  Harpers are morale officers.  I'm going to have to help with the efforts in our Hall, but you two could do a great service by helping to comfort the children.  Take them to the beach, or some place out of the chaos, and get them to talk." 

Fareia takes a breath, and gently pulls on Mynd's arm, waiting for the pop that notifies her the bone is in place. Breath is let out and a splint is quickly placed on his arm. "Okay then..." Bandage on his head is checked, and since it's stopped bleeding, the healer cleans out the wound, and bandages it up. "Now then.. A collapsed staircase..." Healer quickly inspects the rest of mynd, wrinkling her nose up at the bruising around his ribs. "That doesn't look good..."

 

Natalie walks in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.

 

Kurt stalks through the great doors into the courtyard.

 

Magen walks through the great doors into the courtyard.

 

Fortunately, the pleasantly plump Journeyman Clarissa is on hand and replies to Pae and N'zgul, "Good. Then I'll come with you." She calls back over her shoulder, "Kylianna! I'm taking your Apprentice to the Reaches. Wave bye-bye."

 

She shoves Graiham off toward a table of supplies, saying, "Get together some bandages, redwort, numbweed, needlethorn..." She continues on as Graiham hastily shoves stuff into a pack and then, carrying the ungainly thing, returns. "We're ready."

 

Merevan simply looks around before bursting into loud sobs. "Where's mommy? I want my mommy!!" He screeches loudly, completely confused and more than a bit scared.

 

Natalie opens a door labelled The Flying Mug and walks through.

 

Keliana's face shows instant relief as the first application of numbweed brings an instantaneous cool nothingness to the throbbing arm-gash. Her eyelids relax and eventually they open to be met by Morallen's. She swallows and nods, and then after a moment mumbles that the arm is numb enough. Though she would rather request a hefty fellis dousing. She eventually averts her eyes, particularly away from her arm. A shudder snakes down her spine. 

 

Mynd hasn't really moved much, being unconscious, though he does, finally, make a noise, a light groan as his lashes flutter a little. Looky! He lives! 

Dona whimpers become sobs when Merevan starts his screeching.

 

"Ooh, thank you, Liesana.  You know how I adore children," Kirsyn says gratefully.  And the harper apprentice shifts over to Dona, first, murmuring soothing things.  "Now, now.  It'll be all right in the end.  Would you like to come and sit with Merevan and Dovella?" she whispers in the form of a question.  Step 1: Gather all the children together.

 

Cerulean blinks in from ::between::!

 

Natalie walks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

 

Ylisa looks over to find the children that Liesana is indicating, then nods.

 

"Of course."  Before moving, however, she turns to Fareia.  "If it helps to know what happened, he was at the top of the stairs when they collapsed, so he fell quite a way but he wasn't crushed under anything."  Then she follows Kirsyn over

to the children. 

 

Natalie opens a door labelled The Flying Mug and walks through.

 

Aerrin sighs in relief as a Journeyman appears to help her wrest the bone into place, and she wipes her hands swiftly against the front of her tunic. "/Please/ tell me we still have suture thread somewhere?" she questions, before calling to a nearby apprentice while more numbweed is slathered on. Never too much numbweed.

 

Dona doesn't even nod at Kirsyn but moves a bit closer. She swipes at her watery eyes and looks up at the harper.

 

Morallen nods, and steps away to collect one of the suture kits that's been found and rescued from the shambles of the infirmary.  He returns, and settles on the cot beside Keliana again, as much for giving a little support as for ease of work.  "Now, some folks find this part a little disconcerting,"  he cautions, threading one of the curved suture needles with a strand of catgut.  "There's a reel over here, Master,"  he pipes up to Aerrin.  "Fine grade, though.  Better for surface wounds."  He then returns to his patient.  "Now, I want you to look at me while I work, not at your arm, OK?  And why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?  I'm Senior Apprentice Morallen, by the way..."  he continues to ramble as he makes his first move on the torn flesh of the wound, rendered insensitive by the numbweed.

 

Kirsyn coos softly, inviting the child to hole up in her arms - which means she can carry Dona to the others.  Ylisa is noted, and she nods.  "Err, Ylisa, could you maybe go talk to one of those?  I'm trying to get them all together."  The 'those' in question being Dovella and Merevan, of course. 

 

Fareia grabs a nearby pot of numbweed, adding a nice dollop of it to Mynd's ribs, and a couple other nasty lookin' bruises. 

"Oh good..." The healer dissapears for a moment, then comes back with a mug of tea, placing it next to the cot for when Mynd wakes up. "Mynd? I'm Senior Apprentice Fareia. You broke an arm and hit your head. Tell me if you're dizzy or you're going to throw up, okay?" This is all said as a bandage is wrapped around Mynd's ribs, "And I think you broke a rib." Let's hope he caught all that while being half-unconscious. 

 

Dona latches onto the kind harper and hides her face in her shoulder, though she continues to cry. She's been so brave, but now Dona's just a frightened little girl.

 

Liesana nods approvingly as Ylisa and Kirsyn move off, and steps a little closer to Mynd's cotside as her mentee wakes up.  Crouching down beside him, she watches Fareia work on treating him, and reaches out a hand to take his uninjured one.  "Don't you dare do something like this again, you hear me,"  she comments, her tone a little hoarse.  It's the smoke in the air, honest.

 

Graiham and Clarissa are bundled out the door and down the (probably halfway broken) steps by one of the Reaches riders. Excitement and adventure!  

 

Graiham strolls through the great doors into the courtyard.

 

Groan will turn into a vague whimper as Mynd opens his eyes fully, a somewhat glazed look given around. Ow. Pain. Pain isn't fun! Disoriented, the harper looks at Fareia, trying to piece together what was just said to him. Eh..blink. Head turns, if slowly, to look at Lies, giving the harper Master a weak smile. "..Hey Lies.." Yeah. Okay, so he's a little out of it still.

 

"It'll have to do," Aerrin mutters in Morallen's direction as she scoops up a reel and tosses it to her assisting Journeyman. "Stitch and bandage?" she questions before turning away and circulating again. She stops near the harpers and children, bending a bit. "Hey there... you guys ok?" 

 

Kirsyn holds Dona close to her, continuing to murmur whatever words of comfort she can give to the child; Kirsyn has some memories of being alone, confused, and afraid.  "Come on, now," she murmurs softly.  "We're going to go see to your

friends, now.  Is that all right?"  Important to ask the child, you see. Ylisa approaches Merevan, forming her face into an encouraging smile and holding out a hand.  "Well now, we can't go to Mummy just now, dear, but why don't you come & talk to me for a bit.   What's your name?"  She sends a grin in Dovella's direction, too.

 

Dona tries, really, to get herself under control and sniffles in a momentary lapse of sobs. "Mmm hmm," she nods and cries again,  but more softly. 

 

Dovella just cries and leans against the wall like a trapped animal. She looks at Merevan...mommy? Dove doesn't have a mommy she can call for. Sniffle. She cries even louder, not sure what else to do.

 

"MOOOOOMMMMMYYYY!" Merv screeches. He doesn't want some Harper fill-in, he wants /his/ mother and only his mother. "Where's my mommy? She doesn't have any booboos, right? I want my mommy..." He whimpers, wiping several tear streaks from his face.

 

Liesana, now that she's no longer in charge of anyone but herself, for the moment, finally has a bit of a letdown from the adrenal edge she's been running on since shortly after the quake.  "Hello yourself,"  she replies to Mynd,

squeezing his fingers.  "You've had a pretty busy day, trying to learn how to fly without wings..."

 

Fareia holds out a mug to Mynd, "Think you can manage this?" A glance to Liesana, since she seems pretty close to the hurt harper, "I'm guessing he has a concussion...He'll have to stay in bed for a while for it to heal." And directed to the woozy harper, "You're going to be dizzy if you try and stand up, okay? So don't."

 

Kylianna gives a quick pat to a burned child, a finishing touch of the light bandage before she makes her way back to Aerrin, a little tiredness glinting in her eyes. "How many more do you think we'll have today? There's a lot of inventory and recovery of supplies left to do, I hate to think how much we've lost..."

 

Kurt stalks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

 

Ylisa attempts to wrap the screeching Merevan in a hug with one arm, while extending the other in a welcoming gesture towards Dovella.  "Yes, it's all rotten, isn't it.  Come and have a good cry, if you like." 

 

Mynd chuckles quietly, not entirely..there. Oh well. Probably better that way. "Thought I'd try something new..I guess." Blinky.. Ooh..a drink. Hm. Broken arm..and the other one is imprisoned by Lies. Problem.  

 

Dovella looks at Ylisa and sniffles before running to her. And then she's right back to bawling her little eyes out and hugging her stuffed ovine. 

 

Kirsyn nods at Dona quietly, picking up the child in her arms to walk quietly, swaying to give a rocking motion, over towards Dovella, Merevan, and Ylisa, nodding as she scootches closer towards Dovella, as Ylisa's talking to Merevan. "Dear?  Dear, come over with us.  What Ylisa said - it's terrible.  Just cry."  Seeing the child run over to Ylisa, she grins a bit in relief, continuing to rock Dona and murmur soothing things.

 

Merevan shakes his head quickly, pushing away from Ylisa. "I want /MOMMY/." He yells at her, wrapping his arms around his knees, and still shaking his dirty face.

 

Aerrin straightens, running a blood-stained hand across her forehead to push curls backward. "Shards, I hope not many more.. we're all exhausted, and we had most hands out, so there aren't many to pick up the next shift... And who knows

how the weyr is faring." Her eyes glance over the room full of makeshift beds, cots, and worktables, filled with patients and exhausted healers. "I'm afraid to even look at the infirmary.. shards, Kyli. What if our numbweed or redwort stock

was hit?"

 

Liesana releases Mynd's hand, a little sheepish, as the Healer arrives with one of her potions.  "Heh, I suppose I'd better let you drink that.  Although I warn you it's better if you don't taste it too much."  Liesana could really use a hug herself, right about now, but since she's got work to do, she'll settle for collapsing around her friends later on.  "Take care, kiddo,"  she murmurs to her mentee, and then leaves him in Fareia's keep, Merevan's howls having caught her attention.  "Hello there, Merevan,"  she introduces herself to him.  "Do you remember me?  Harper Liesana?  I want /my/ mommy, too."

 

Keliana turns back around and listens to Morallen's instructions with a slightly fearful face, and her pale face is tinged now with a slightly nauseated tone. She swallows mightily and nods, turning to look at the Healer's face and keep her eyes off of her arm. "Hi, Morallen . . ." She gulps. "Uhh, m'name's Keliana. Weaver Apprentice." She manages to say-- surprising that she can open her mouth at all. "Got tossed about in the shaking. Caught on a rock." She nods slightly and takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on Morallen's face to refrain from glancing at the wound.

 

Dona is closer to her peers now, and not about to look like just a child. Not her. That's the incentive she needs to get herself under control again. It takes a few breaths, but she does it. Her poor pink stuffed kitty might be held just a tad too tightly when she sniffles and pulls away from Krisyn, but not too far away. "Stop it," she glares at Merevan. "You're always acting like /such/ a baby." No matter that he really is.

 

Pae gambols through the great doors into the courtyard.  

 

Cerulean suddenly disappears ::between::!

 

Mynd will drink this somehow. Yes. The harper shifts, pushing himself up with one arm. Can't drink while laying down. That doesn't /work/. The mug is taken then, shakily being sipped out of. 

 

"Well, if the Weyr needs us, they'll be quick to get us. But I think we'll all be pulling double-shifts tonight..." Kylianna glances around, the worry deepening on her expression. "I don't want to think about it until I have to. If our numbweed is decimated, then we'll just have to make do and use it sparingly. But redwort... Shards," she mutters, shaking her head. "We can't afford that. We'll just have to hope."

 

"That's it," Ylisa murmurs to Dovella, bending a little and spreading her arm in an invitation to a hug.  Then to Lies, "Oh, you know him, Liesana? Who /is/ his mother?" Kirsyn looks on in faint amusement - this's kidlet society at work, it would seem, but she reprimands Dona lightly.  "Shh.  He's young - anyone should be allowed to cry at this point.  /I've/ even cried today.  Let him cry."  Pausing for a few moments, she starts talking once more.  "What's your name?  I'm Kirsyn.  Apprentice at Harper."  Often, talking about everyday subjects stops trauma, right?  Err, hopefully.

 

Aerrin nods, expression plainly worried. "As much a we need the hands here... we've /got/ to sift through that infirmary and see how we're faring. We might be able to get a bit of a harvest if we do it soon, and if.. I heard crops at Tillek were wiped out. If anything hit the numbweed fields.. and the redwort..." 

 

Merevan /is/ younger than Dona, so he can cry if he wants to. His eyes flicker up briefly to look at Liesana, and he nods tearfully. "Yeah, I want Mommy. Where is she?" He asks tentatively, wiping his face again with a dirty sleeve which

does nothing to clean, merely spreads the dust and soot more. 

 

"Keliana,"  repeats Morallen in a soft tenor murmur, most of his concentration settled on making sure that the stitches he's placing in the Weaver's arm are as fine as possible.  Females, after all, are known to not be overly fond of really cool scars.  "That's a very pretty name.  I'd have to say it definitely suits its' owner.  Been Weaving long?"  He ties off one stitch, and starts another, repeat as necessary, and gives a wry little nod.  "Aye, quite a tumble the old Hold took... I was getting jounced around with two other apprentices like we were a trio of bouncing balls."

 

Kurt keeps a grimy grip on Kurrin, not letting him into the hands of any of these healers but his mother. "M...m..." he stutters, the words refusing to come out of his mouth. Kurrin just bawls and bawls, scared out of his mind, even though he's in the arms of his father. Poor little guy. 

 

Dona shakes her still perfectly immaculate curls and answers Kirsyn matter of factly "Merevan yells all the time and needs to grow up," she sounds almost like her sour ol' twin,  "/I/'m Dona. And my father is The Warder here. And he'll fix everything," she says as if she means it, but there is doubt on her face. 

 

Liesana nods to the younger Harpers, holding out her arms to give Merevan a comforting hug, should he want one.  "This here is Merevan,"  she introduces to the others, her tone kept light and conversational.  "His mother is Nanny Merenya, here at Ista.  And d'you know where I think she is, Merevan?"  she asks rhetorically of the little boy.  "I'm sure that she's safe and busy upstairs, looking after all the /really/ little children that aren't as brave and clever as you three.  And that she's probably wondering 'Where's my little Merevan gone?'."

 

Fareia steps away from the Harpers, nearly bumping into another, recognizing him after a moment of staring. "Master Kurt. What've you done now?" A glance around behind her, "Uh...Aerrin?" she calls over to the healer master, recalling the

fact that she's handfasted to Kurt. 

 

Synte has disconnected.

 

"They were?" Kylianna's face goes ashen and she bites her lower lip. "Shards, I don't know what we'll do if we need to resupply... We'll need to organize the apprentices quickly in the next few days, see about anything we can harvest. This'll be a lean few months if we can't... I don't want to deal with little children without enough numbweed. I won't." Though children in general frighten her. But she peers over at Kurt, taking a tentative step forward. "Are you okay?"

 

Kirsyn fades into the background after this, doing what she's been doing all along, as the log ends.

 

Logfile from Niara and Kirsyn

 

 

 

 

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