Ista has seen disaster and then some these past few turns, and though the volcano's rumblings have quieted, it seems there is always /something/ to cloud the sunny skies of the island Weyr. With senior gold Ellamariseth's eggs hardening on the hatching sands, and the weyrlings from Nziekilth's first clutch finally taking wing with their lifemates, there has been an air of celebration which not even a few dreary winter days could mar completely. Candidates are already filling the barracks, and work has begun on construction projects which rumors promise to bring in new revenue and new businesses. Alas, tragedy came, riding the heels of the Weyr's recent good fortune.
The weyrlings, having mastered, or at least competently passed the rigors of manned flight, prepared for one of the great milestones of dragonriding: betweening. Everyone knows there are risks, and everyone's heard the stories. Of riders lost due to fatigue or carelessness, or simple distraction. But it's one thing to hear the cautions, and quite another to see it firsthand. The danger was driven home for the weyrfolk and candidates who were in the bowl when Tal and gold Nictukuth, impatient to prove themselves, slipped between before the weyrlingmasters could properly prepare them. They did not re-appear. The eerie, heart-wrenching sound of dragons keening spread across the Weyr, announcing the loss of the Ista's youngest gold. It's rumored that more than a few of the weyrlingmasters lost their knots before the day was done, among them bluerider C'dy, who won't be seeing the sky anytime soon. If ever there was a time to drink oneself into oblivion…
Even the latest batch of candidates were given leave to head to the taverns, while Nziekilth has simply stopped talking to any other dragon, the usually outspoken gold refusing to leave her weyr or even eat. It's said Cenlia was eventually found passed out atop a pile of shredded and mangled paperwork, and Ysa… well, those few brave souls who've seen the senior lately aren't in any shape to talk about it.
