Post by Onyxaeon on Jun 6, 2009 6:43:37 GMT -5
History/Plot:(876 turns of it)
Hundreds of turns ago, when the dragonriders of Pern were a new race, when the Weyrs were young, and technology still present, things were different. One Weyr, Ista, had a plan. They knew the hardships life on this new planet could provide, and so, they created a safe-house of sorts. A secret tunnel in their Weyr, leading down and away from the home they so loved, large enough that their Golds could pass, though with little room leftover, on foot.
These tunnels were little used, and the safe-house all but forgotten for many a turn. Until the first plague struck. The men and women of Ista were divided, unable to decide if they should stay in their home, or make use of those tunnels, hoping that they could find salvation at the end of them.
Divided, the Weyr was, and so they split in half. Two young Golds and their riders were the first to leave, and following them were four Bronzes, four Browns, and six Greens. along with these dragons went candidates, for both Golds were close to rising and if a clutch was laid in the safe-house, candidates would need to be present. Drudges as well went, to tend to the riders and to keep the candidates in line. the journey to the safe-house was long and dark, the only light they had, their glows. It took nearly three days of walking, stopping to rest and eat, and moving on. As they emerged from the tunnels, they found themselves in a place of unmatched beauty and design.
They were underwater, a fact proven when one candidate slipped near a pool of water, and never surfaced. A Green dove in after him, and when she surfaced, she was shaken to her core, unable to explain what she had seen. One by one, the dragons dove, searching the water around them and returning when they needed air, while the riders waited anxiously for them. One by one, they each came back with the same story to tell. An entire Weyr, constructed ingeniously, located on a plateau on the ocean floor. Spires of stone rose to the surface, breaching and reaching into the air, most being as wide as the average male's arm span. while one, near the center, was as wide around as a Green's wingspan.
Through the smaller tunnels came clean air and light, through the largest clean water was provided, and air flowed in. The people of Ista marveled at this, and came to love their strange new home. Crops were planted in a marshy section near the reservoir, watered form the stores and living off the sunlight that trickled down. Some dragons took to fishing to provide food for the weyr, making games of it, and challenging each other. with this strange way of life, they thrived. Month's passed, and one Gold Rose, her raging screams echoing through the Weyr and letting all know of her state.
She had nowhere to go. She could not fly within the Weyr, for it had not been designed with this in mind, and so the Gold did the only thing she could think of. She dove into the water. Her Bronze males chased after her, each dragon having drawn in air until they thought they would burst. Time crawled by for the riders of those beasts, and when all had given up hope, the dragons returned. The Gold had been caught, her entire Flight taking place underwater. Seven generations after this, and the first clutch to have gills appeared in the Weyr.
But we jump ahead here. It obviously did not take such a long time for the plague on the surface to die out. indeed, after nearly four turns below the surface, in this haven under the sea, an attempt to return to Ista was made. As the people of the underwater Weyr flocked to the tunnels and began their journey, the found that the tunnels had collapsed, water filling them, and rumble sealing them away in their refuge. Shock, fear, and worry were rampant at first, until the young Gold who had first Rose, by diving into the water, her name Maharksath, stepped forward.
Looking at each of her fellows, she crooned softly, reassuringly. My friends, my family. Have we not survive so far without the surface? We cannot return now, even if we so desired. Is this such a bad thing? We are a hardy people, a hardy group, we can survive on our own. If none else will do so, I will declare this place as my Weyr now. The Gold who had made their path clear in the past did so once more, making herself the Senior queen, and the founding queen, of Atlanopolis. Where the name came from, no one was sure, but as the months passed as all became sure that this was their new home, it stuck.
Now, we may jump a few turns into the future, a clutch on the sands about to hatch, heated by underwater volcanoes, magma boiling underground and giving off waves of warmth to keep the eggs alive. The candidates were lined up, their white robes and sandals traditional, everything traditional. The first egg hatched, splintering it's shell and stepping lightly from the ruins, stretching it's neck proudly to display the gills that had mutated. The first generation of the water dragon had appeared. This was only a subtle thing, gills, webbing, bodies elongating. what came as odd was Greens became less common, to the point where there were no more than two in the Weyr. When they died, it was the last of the color seen in Atlanopolis.
The Golds made the biggest leap to their mutations first, nearly twelve turns after the gills had appeared.
Aegleth, like any other dragon, hatched from her shell, shaking away the shards to reveal her glory. She had no forelegs, but rather, large wings, which if furled could be used as limbs to balance. Her chest was narrow, like the keel of a boat, and her body was long. Her tail was slightly flattened, the end characterized by a broad fin, a rudder. Her wings were thicker than those of a normal dragon, and her coloring was a lovely, everything about her seemed, to be painfully frank, odd. She was frowned at, but accepted, her oddity proving itself more useful than any had dreamed, as her coloring was purple.
She was accepted though, for all her oddities, with frowns and displeased mummers. Little did Atlanopolis know, they had seen the first mutation on Pern. Yes, ages before even the White Ruth even graced the skies, mutations were taking place, unknown to the rest of the world, in a Weyr that no one knew existed. Her mutations was embraced though, when she took to the water for the first time. Unlike her brothers and sisters, she was speedy in the water, made for it. It is from her that the rest of the mutations were spawned.
Her first clutch produced the rest of the mutations in Atlanopolis, each seemingly designed for life underwater. They far surpassed the dragons who had been around for turns, and, in this instance, they came to be the perfect mutations.
As it is with many things in history, on many worlds, that which has become truly obsolete is forced to disappear. It was by choice, the remaining Blues, Browns, Bronzes, and Golds, along with their riders, dove into the water. The riders drowned, knowing that the existence of their bonded were not to last for much longer. The canon colors had been dying out, appearing less in the clutches, weakening. There was no doubt that they would soon cease to exists at all, and none of the riders wished to wait for such a thing.
It was then discovered, how the only females in the Weyr, known as Siryns, could become queens.
The use of firestone had ceased, for there was no need for it in their new abode, yes not every Siryn hatched came to clutch. In fact, only a small number. The oldest Siryns clutched, generally three at a time, and when one either fell sterile of went Between the next oldest, non-clutching female took her place, suddenly able to clutch.
An oddity, but as the only females in the Weyr were the lovely and enchanting Siryns, it seemed to make sense.
On went the existence of Atlanopolis, unknown to Pern. The fate of the surface world unknown to the underwater kingdom, and though some grew curious, none were sure how to reach the surface and look around, and all feared that they would find the worst. How could they possibly go to the surface, if they risked death? They remained in their sanctuary, and as turns passed, so passed the questions.
Turns passed, and finally, a need arose, one which they could not take care of on their own. They would have to go to the surface, or risk their own demise. Somberly, a Siryn raised her voice and asked to be allowed to go to the surface, alone. It was refused for her to go without some escort, and so, two other Siryns volunteered as well. Nervously, they were permitted, and the three females went to the surface, searching for candidates to Impress to the clutches hardening on the sands.
It is from these Siryns that tales of sea monsters surfaced, the Siryns luring children away from sea hold and to them, taking the children into the oceans depths, never to be seen again. Of course, it wasn't so bad as it was made seem, the Siryns were quick, warning their captives to take a deep breath of air and not let it out until it was safe, and not to breath in at all until they were once more on land.
Occasionally, if one particular dragon proved to be swifter than the rest of the Weyr, he or she would stay back, and wait for a child to be brought. This lessened the likelihood of their captive drowning before they could reach air once more, though shockingly few died of drowning in generally, more were likely to die from the changes in pressure.
A new problem had arisen, which a solution was quickly found.
One of the Air tunnels was slightly larger than the rest. With some creative engineering, a Siryn would be able to glide down into the Weyr. By keeping the future candidates strapped on, the small females were able to bring them to the Weyr, and completely ended all the deaths of their charges.
Hundreds of turns ago, when the dragonriders of Pern were a new race, when the Weyrs were young, and technology still present, things were different. One Weyr, Ista, had a plan. They knew the hardships life on this new planet could provide, and so, they created a safe-house of sorts. A secret tunnel in their Weyr, leading down and away from the home they so loved, large enough that their Golds could pass, though with little room leftover, on foot.
These tunnels were little used, and the safe-house all but forgotten for many a turn. Until the first plague struck. The men and women of Ista were divided, unable to decide if they should stay in their home, or make use of those tunnels, hoping that they could find salvation at the end of them.
Divided, the Weyr was, and so they split in half. Two young Golds and their riders were the first to leave, and following them were four Bronzes, four Browns, and six Greens. along with these dragons went candidates, for both Golds were close to rising and if a clutch was laid in the safe-house, candidates would need to be present. Drudges as well went, to tend to the riders and to keep the candidates in line. the journey to the safe-house was long and dark, the only light they had, their glows. It took nearly three days of walking, stopping to rest and eat, and moving on. As they emerged from the tunnels, they found themselves in a place of unmatched beauty and design.
They were underwater, a fact proven when one candidate slipped near a pool of water, and never surfaced. A Green dove in after him, and when she surfaced, she was shaken to her core, unable to explain what she had seen. One by one, the dragons dove, searching the water around them and returning when they needed air, while the riders waited anxiously for them. One by one, they each came back with the same story to tell. An entire Weyr, constructed ingeniously, located on a plateau on the ocean floor. Spires of stone rose to the surface, breaching and reaching into the air, most being as wide as the average male's arm span. while one, near the center, was as wide around as a Green's wingspan.
Through the smaller tunnels came clean air and light, through the largest clean water was provided, and air flowed in. The people of Ista marveled at this, and came to love their strange new home. Crops were planted in a marshy section near the reservoir, watered form the stores and living off the sunlight that trickled down. Some dragons took to fishing to provide food for the weyr, making games of it, and challenging each other. with this strange way of life, they thrived. Month's passed, and one Gold Rose, her raging screams echoing through the Weyr and letting all know of her state.
She had nowhere to go. She could not fly within the Weyr, for it had not been designed with this in mind, and so the Gold did the only thing she could think of. She dove into the water. Her Bronze males chased after her, each dragon having drawn in air until they thought they would burst. Time crawled by for the riders of those beasts, and when all had given up hope, the dragons returned. The Gold had been caught, her entire Flight taking place underwater. Seven generations after this, and the first clutch to have gills appeared in the Weyr.
But we jump ahead here. It obviously did not take such a long time for the plague on the surface to die out. indeed, after nearly four turns below the surface, in this haven under the sea, an attempt to return to Ista was made. As the people of the underwater Weyr flocked to the tunnels and began their journey, the found that the tunnels had collapsed, water filling them, and rumble sealing them away in their refuge. Shock, fear, and worry were rampant at first, until the young Gold who had first Rose, by diving into the water, her name Maharksath, stepped forward.
Looking at each of her fellows, she crooned softly, reassuringly. My friends, my family. Have we not survive so far without the surface? We cannot return now, even if we so desired. Is this such a bad thing? We are a hardy people, a hardy group, we can survive on our own. If none else will do so, I will declare this place as my Weyr now. The Gold who had made their path clear in the past did so once more, making herself the Senior queen, and the founding queen, of Atlanopolis. Where the name came from, no one was sure, but as the months passed as all became sure that this was their new home, it stuck.
Now, we may jump a few turns into the future, a clutch on the sands about to hatch, heated by underwater volcanoes, magma boiling underground and giving off waves of warmth to keep the eggs alive. The candidates were lined up, their white robes and sandals traditional, everything traditional. The first egg hatched, splintering it's shell and stepping lightly from the ruins, stretching it's neck proudly to display the gills that had mutated. The first generation of the water dragon had appeared. This was only a subtle thing, gills, webbing, bodies elongating. what came as odd was Greens became less common, to the point where there were no more than two in the Weyr. When they died, it was the last of the color seen in Atlanopolis.
The Golds made the biggest leap to their mutations first, nearly twelve turns after the gills had appeared.
Aegleth, like any other dragon, hatched from her shell, shaking away the shards to reveal her glory. She had no forelegs, but rather, large wings, which if furled could be used as limbs to balance. Her chest was narrow, like the keel of a boat, and her body was long. Her tail was slightly flattened, the end characterized by a broad fin, a rudder. Her wings were thicker than those of a normal dragon, and her coloring was a lovely, everything about her seemed, to be painfully frank, odd. She was frowned at, but accepted, her oddity proving itself more useful than any had dreamed, as her coloring was purple.
She was accepted though, for all her oddities, with frowns and displeased mummers. Little did Atlanopolis know, they had seen the first mutation on Pern. Yes, ages before even the White Ruth even graced the skies, mutations were taking place, unknown to the rest of the world, in a Weyr that no one knew existed. Her mutations was embraced though, when she took to the water for the first time. Unlike her brothers and sisters, she was speedy in the water, made for it. It is from her that the rest of the mutations were spawned.
Her first clutch produced the rest of the mutations in Atlanopolis, each seemingly designed for life underwater. They far surpassed the dragons who had been around for turns, and, in this instance, they came to be the perfect mutations.
As it is with many things in history, on many worlds, that which has become truly obsolete is forced to disappear. It was by choice, the remaining Blues, Browns, Bronzes, and Golds, along with their riders, dove into the water. The riders drowned, knowing that the existence of their bonded were not to last for much longer. The canon colors had been dying out, appearing less in the clutches, weakening. There was no doubt that they would soon cease to exists at all, and none of the riders wished to wait for such a thing.
It was then discovered, how the only females in the Weyr, known as Siryns, could become queens.
The use of firestone had ceased, for there was no need for it in their new abode, yes not every Siryn hatched came to clutch. In fact, only a small number. The oldest Siryns clutched, generally three at a time, and when one either fell sterile of went Between the next oldest, non-clutching female took her place, suddenly able to clutch.
An oddity, but as the only females in the Weyr were the lovely and enchanting Siryns, it seemed to make sense.
On went the existence of Atlanopolis, unknown to Pern. The fate of the surface world unknown to the underwater kingdom, and though some grew curious, none were sure how to reach the surface and look around, and all feared that they would find the worst. How could they possibly go to the surface, if they risked death? They remained in their sanctuary, and as turns passed, so passed the questions.
Turns passed, and finally, a need arose, one which they could not take care of on their own. They would have to go to the surface, or risk their own demise. Somberly, a Siryn raised her voice and asked to be allowed to go to the surface, alone. It was refused for her to go without some escort, and so, two other Siryns volunteered as well. Nervously, they were permitted, and the three females went to the surface, searching for candidates to Impress to the clutches hardening on the sands.
It is from these Siryns that tales of sea monsters surfaced, the Siryns luring children away from sea hold and to them, taking the children into the oceans depths, never to be seen again. Of course, it wasn't so bad as it was made seem, the Siryns were quick, warning their captives to take a deep breath of air and not let it out until it was safe, and not to breath in at all until they were once more on land.
Occasionally, if one particular dragon proved to be swifter than the rest of the Weyr, he or she would stay back, and wait for a child to be brought. This lessened the likelihood of their captive drowning before they could reach air once more, though shockingly few died of drowning in generally, more were likely to die from the changes in pressure.
A new problem had arisen, which a solution was quickly found.
One of the Air tunnels was slightly larger than the rest. With some creative engineering, a Siryn would be able to glide down into the Weyr. By keeping the future candidates strapped on, the small females were able to bring them to the Weyr, and completely ended all the deaths of their charges.
