Threadfall: Groundcrew Pickup

[F'rendil]

Jul 23, 2024 16:33:29 GMT -8 Narrator said:

And… the skies cleared. All that was left of the Thread was the falling ash and scattered remnants of the scary silver rain. Dragonrider and groundcrew alike could heave a collective breath to rest, for now. In a few days, Thread would fall again - this time over the southern portion of the continent - from Rivers Crossing to Port Hope - where even now preparations were being made for the event. All that remained to do was to gather the groundcrew and take them back home to the Weyr.

Jul 26, 2024 9:31:53 GMT -8 A'ric said:

Among those who landed to assist in the groundcrew’s recovery were A’ric and his bronze Caldreth. The Weyrleader asked him specifically to assist in overseeing the groundcrew’s pick-up. Though a healer and there was already an injured rider waiting back at the Weyr, A’ric had to follow through with K’ivan’s instructions. Based on the preliminary reports, Mira and Kai were doing right by the injured Carona.

Caldreth, his sides heaving from the exertion of Threadfall, gratefully landed not far from the Keep’s proper, in the midst of the green grass and scrub brush that grew around Kajano. Once he dismounted, the bronzerider undid the straps to his riding helmet but didn’t bother removing it. He had no intention of staying long. Casting a glance of disgust around him, the tall man headed toward the groundcrew. To remove some of the sweat that glistened on his skin, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his riding jacket. When he was within sight of the first of them, he gave a friendly wave and called out, “Everyone all right?"

Jul 28, 2024 0:26:31 GMT -8 Jannasper said:

Jannasper’s full attention was on searching the ground for any burrows, so he didn’t notice the brown dragon swoop down so close until he felt the bits of ash rain down onto his head. He looked up just as the brown was flying away. He grinned broadly and waved. “Thank you!” he called even if the dragon and rider couldn’t see him. He would always show his gratitude.

Jannasper was spraying another patch of green, searing a strand before it could burrow when the green flit appeared. He grinned again at its appearance and laughed at the flit’s roar. Her appearance was like an assurance to him that Master S’yloa was uninjured. "Yeah! We're gonna beat this!" He said and gave the little green at quick scritch before following the formation.

Jul 28, 2024 0:48:45 GMT -8 Kerrin said:

May 15, 2024 12:53:29 GMT -8 Thread! said:

Not even the most experienced dragonrider could prevent all the strands, so did it pass through the ranks until a scattered handful of Thread managed to get to the very bottom where the gathered groundcrew waited in their formation. A dozen strands fell near and around the groundcrew, the others fell into the midst of Kajano Hold itself.

While the ground crew from Great Cliffs scoured the land outside the hold, Kajono Hold’s own ground crews waited just inside the walls, most seemingly bored and chatting away. Despite the disdain most felt for dragonriders in general, they didn’t really expect anything to hit the ground in the hold proper. It was with great surprise that they saw some strands fall through the dragonrider ranks into the hold’s grounds. The Kajono ground crew started to scramble. Any outside the hold would be able to hear the frantic cries as thread hit the ground. Shouts of action and cries of pain could be heard.

Kerrin was thankful that the Great Cliffs ground crew was so efficient. She hadn’t needed to use her Agenothree spray once, and after just a warning, the crew worked safely and quickly. When the cries from the hold started, she turned to look toward the hold. She recognized some of the voices, with one standing out more than the others, and it caused her to pale slightly. Her worst fears came to pass as a few members of the Kajono ground crew came out just as a bronze rider landed to check on the Great Cliffs ground crew, one of which was all too familiar to her. She cowered slightly behind Millian.

“No! We’re not alright!” Mikkale shouted at A’ric, his face red with anger. He was covered with sweat. Two other men followed behind him, one with a burn on his hand, while the other had blood running down his arm, both looking as angry as Mikkale. “What good are you Weyrfolk if you can’t even do your job properly!”

Aug 20, 2024 11:40:00 GMT -8 A'ric said:

To hear the angry words of the other man, A’ric thought to his dismay, he’d landed among the wrong groundcrew. He meant to land near the Weyr’s groundcrew to pick them up and yet here he was confronted by the dimglows that couldn’t keep their hold’s grounds properly cleaned. The Wingleader didn’t recognize Mikkale as anyone of importance, but his Weyrleader told him to keep an eye on their new Headwoman and had apprised him of the possibility of her being in danger. Thus, when the angry Holdman stormed toward A’ric, he spared a moment to find Kerrin.

His dark green eyes flickered around the area till they found Kerrin. Assured that she was safely in the middle of the Great Cliffs’ ground crew, he continued walking till he placed himself between the two groundcrew groups. His path conveniently took into such a position to further block Kerrin from view. He turned his attention to Mikkale. Sweat dripped along his cheek and the bridge of his nose. Steam rose from his riding jacket. Ash dotted his helmet and the rest of his garments.

“I am a dragonrider, not a Weyrfolk.” A’ric sneered as he made the distinction. Rare anger colored his words, but he held his temper and replied with a gruff tone. “Do you not have flame-throwers for that very reason? Perhaps we should have allowed the rest of the Thread to fall on hold? Would you rather that black ash be the silver of naked Thread falling on your ungrateful heads? On your homes? On your wives and children? On your crops? Accept your injuries as badges of honor for fighting to protect your home. Then, go back to your fields that are not destroyed due to us doing our jobs. Perhaps, instead of barking at me for not doing mine, you should tell your Lord Fetoylian to do his - bringing us tithes."

Unlike his rider, Caldreth did not care to bandy words with lesser beings. He flared his wings, stretched his neck, and bellowed a challenging roar. His tail lashed behind him. The anger he felt from both his rider and the lingering adrenaline colored his facetted eyes in crimson swirls.

Sept 2, 2024 12:54:39 GMT -8 Kerrin said:

“You live in the Weyr, don’t ye?” Mikkale sneered back at the bronzerider. “Same difference.” He waved dismissively, but then his expression turned dark again.

“Ya take, take, take, while we do all the real, back-breaking work in the fields. So don’t make it sound as if yer doin’ us a favor! You’d be sad and hungry without our fields providing you with the foods for you and yer dragons take. After this, you think you deserve more--” His little tirade was cut off by the dragon’s roar, and aggressive display. The two men with him immediately took several steps back. Mikkale, either too proud or too dumb to back down, stood his ground. “Lord Fetolylian takes good care of us holders, unlike you lot, always doin’ whatever you please, and takin’ our folk to do who-knows-what with!” He had no proof, but he was sure that brownrider had taken his wife, but the coward hadn’t shown up again for Mikkale to confront him.


Kerrin watched the scene that was unfolding with some trepidation. Mikkale never knew when to stop talking. He always had to have the last word, for good or for ill, and it usually ended with him trading more than words. It was a part of him that she always was uncomfortable with, but had tried to ignore. She remained behind Millian, cringing at Caldreth’s roar. She knew the dragons wouldn’t hurt her, but turns of fear were hard to break. She pulled the scarf on her head scarf tighter at Mikkale’s words, silently chanting, ‘Please don’t see me, please don’t see me, please don’t see me.’

Sept 2, 2024 12:55:25 GMT -8 Jannasper said:

Jannasper finished sweeping the last of his part of the formation just as the dragons started landing. He stared as browns, bronze, and finally greens started to land. One green in particular caught his eye and his smile grew into a wide grin. Forgetting protocol, Jannasper broke into a run. “Mas--S’yloa!” he called and waved one hand while the agenothree tank bounced on his back. He met him halfway, skidding to a stop. “You’re safe!” he said, grinning.

Speaking of the 'coward', the injured T'wenth landed not far from Engmyth. He settled onto the ground with a heavy thump and a long sigh and stretching out his wing, he immediately turned his head to inspect the new holes in his wing.

Caldreth roared. T'wenth replied with a worthy roar of his own, and his tail lashed. Crimson swirled through his facetted eyes and then gradually receded into a dull orange.

The sound of the bronze's roar caused F'rendil to jump in surprise and he looked around, his brows furrowed together. Spying the confrontation between A'ric and the holdfolk, the brownrider shook his head. As one of the hold's guards, he'd seen Mikkale "in action" multiple times while the farmer was drunk, and while he wasn't drunk. Based on his path, he obviously didn't intend to interact with the man now. Everyone knew if A'ric needed help, Caldreth would surely call the others.

F'rendil was slower to dismount from his dragon. He took a moment to inspect the hole in his lifemate's wingsail from the vantage point of his saddle. Leaving both his helmet and his gloves on the saddle, he hopped down to the ground and descended the hill with long strides.

F'rendil headed over to the Weyr's groundcrew, and his eyes darted back and forth between them. This far away, he didn't see who he sought because she was purposefully hiding from everyone. He'd arrived after S'yloa, who'd landed and hurried toward the group faster than F'rendil.

[Narrator]

NPCing Ailbe

While securing his flamethrower for transport, Ailbe became aware of Kerrin's reaction to the holdfolk. He took a sideways step, deliberating placing himself between Kerrin and the men confronting A'ric. This made it that much harder for Mikkale to easily see her through the crowd.

[S'yloa]

“Mas--S’yloa!” he called and waved one hand while the agenothree tank bounced on his back. He met him halfway, skidding to a stop. “You’re safe!” he said, grinning.

"Haha! Yes, I'm safe, Engmyth wouldn't let me fall from the sky." S'yloa laughed as he waved and replied, surprised by the boy's comment. His eyes widened as the youth sprinted toward him. It was sweet the way Jannasper worried about him. He rather liked it. He watched Jannasper run with piqued interest.

"Well! You're certainly happy to see me. Let's go back to the others. I'm taking you back to the Weyr, but we should see if the others need help packing. I can carry equipment too." The greenrider put his arm around Jannasper's shoulder. "How did it go fighting with the ground crew? Was this your first experience? Did everyone treat you all right?”


Engmyth’s eyes flashed red with anger. I’m tired. Why do they argue with Caldreth’s? When the two males reacted to A’ric's emotions, the green stood on her hind legs and flapped her wings too. She landed on the ground with a thump and a huff. The tip of her tail flipped back and forth. As imperious as any gold she tilted her head upward to stare at the bickering humans down the length of her muzzle.

[Narrator]

Despite living near or around dragons, some of the nearby people cringed when they heard the bronze and brown roar within mere moments of each other. Several fire-lizards took flight and spiraled in anxious circles above the crowds. In the distance, a wherry shrieked.

Depending on who you asked, dragons soared in the skies to protect or made a nuisance of themselves by chasing each other in the clouds making all kinds of ruckus. Whatever their relationship with the dragons, every once in a while their inner primative surged to the surface as the sound of something so menacing whispered to ancient memories of being eaten by megafauna.

Individuals within both the Hold's and Weyr’s groundcrew shifted uneasily. Even those used to living with dragons occasionally felt the unpleasant desire to run when something the size of a small building roared or made a fuss. Instinct threatened to overwhelm logic. Most of the time, logic won.

“Someone’s gotten them riled.” Said the fishmonger. He wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. His voice sounded unsteady as his heart felt. He craned his head around. He was too far away to see who or what caused the dragons to roar. To anyone who cared to listen, he reported, “Don’t see what’s going on from here.”

A handful of the holdfolk’s groundcrew retreated further into the buildings and left the field with haste, eager to get away from the bellows of the red-eyed dragons… there were rumors around the Hold about bad things happening when dragons appeared. People going missing…. adding to the rumors of Lord Feytolian’s household being on extra alert due to certain … happenings… and the ever-present shadow of fear in their minds that whisper of “Is the Syndicate really gone?" It wasn’t that they feared the dragons per se they merely meant to be cautious in case something other than noise happened...

[A'ric]

“You live in the Weyr, don’t ye?” Mikkale sneered back at the bronzerider. “Same difference.” He waved dismissively, but then his expression turned dark again.

“Ya take, take, take, while we do all the real, back-breaking work in the fields. So don’t make it sound as if yer doin’ us a favor! You’d be sad and hungry without our fields providing you with the foods for you and yer dragons take. After this, you think you deserve more--” His little tirade was cut off by the dragon’s roar, and aggressive display. The two men with him immediately took several steps back. Mikkale, either too proud or too dumb to back down, stood his ground. “Lord Fetolylian takes good care of us holders, unlike you lot, always doin’ whatever you please, and takin’ our folk to do who-knows-what with!” He had no proof, but he was sure that brownrider had taken his wife, but the coward hadn’t shown up again for Mikkale to confront him.

---

A’ric made no effort to calm Caldreth. The Wingleader felt the anger keenly and allowed it to flow through him. T’was part of the joy of being bonded to the great bronze. They drew strength from each other. It was the world’s greatest honor to be chosen by a dragon. “'Who knows what with them?’” He scoffed because it was common knowledge and further proved this man’s incompetence.

“You know what searchriders do with the chosen few. They become Weyrfolk. The force of workers who live in the Weyr. The crafters and regular folk. Some, become dragonriders, chosen by dragons to risk their lives to destroy Thread. Some of the world’s greatest Weyrleaders and Weyrwoman began life in a hold."

A’ric continued to sneer. Mikkale’s threats meant nothing to him. Caldreth’s power stood behind him. It wasn’t the physical threat of a dragon. It was the sheer force of the bronze’s personality that wrapped itself around the Wingleader and made him feel mighty. And, fortunately for the Weyr, Rivers’ Crossing Hold made their tithe. Empty threats from a bitter, uneducated holdman meant nothing to him. What good was a plot of dirt compared to the ability to fly?

“Lord Feytolian takes care of you? Excellent.” He spoke with a steely tone and his piercing gaze shifted to the other two men as they backed off. He mentally assessed them, taking in their injuries as well as their temperaments. "I’ll be sure to report that back to Weyrleader K'ivan. If you think we’re so useless perhaps I can convince him not to fly over your lands the next time Thread falls.” 

T'was the oldest argument on Pern. Weyrfolk vs. Holdfolk. No matter what happened it always boiled to this topic. A’ric switched topics because the “old argument” wasn’t something he wanted to do after a long Threadfall. He exhaled a short sigh and tugged on the edges of his riding jacket to straighten it and shake off the remaining desire to argue. His movements caused his elaborate shoulder knots to shift, which included Healer colors and the knots of a journeyman. 

A’rc cleared his throat. Bringing his tone to a more neutral one, he spoke again. “When I asked earlier, you said that you weren’t all right. You and your men look injured. If you want, I have my kit." Whilst he spoke, he gestured to the man’s bloody arm and affixed his eyes to the second man. “To bandage that and apply numbweed.”

He put his hand on one of the pouches on his belt, one hand undoing it as he spoke. Yet he waited for their replies ere he withdrew any healing supplies. If they meant to fight instead of being reasonable, he did not want his precious supplies spilled on the ground during the scuff.

He met gazes with the third man. Not for a dominance challenge though the other might think it to be such as fierce defenders often do. No, the healer wanted to force the man to focus on A’ric’s words and not the high running emotions that they all had after a good fight. "I have an ointment of aloe, redwort and numbweed to prevent infection. Either that or you’d best get that burn to the hold’s healer as soon as possible before it causes permanent damage to your hand."

[Jannasper]

“I know she wouldn't!” Jannasper laughed. “But when that other green got hurt, well, I couldn't help thinking what if it happened to you?” Concern filled his big brown eyes for a moment.

“I'll always be happy to see you!” His big, toothy grin reappeared as S’yloa put his arm over Jannasper’s shoulder. He didn't object to the physical contact. S’yloa’s touch was always kind and gentle, something he wasn't used to. “Mostly,” he replied with a shrug, but not elaborating further. He was used to being looked upon and made to do most of the work. He just accepted it. “It's my first time using equipment! I’d only ever spotted before,” There was a touch of pride in his voice at the increase in responsibility. “Will Engmyth be alright? She’s gotta be tired. Master J’zeni said greens ‘n blues don't usually fly an entire fall.”

Jannasper saw Engmyth rear up and flap her wings agitatedly. “Why’re the dragons so upset?” He asked, having been far enough afield that he hadn't heard the holder's initial complaints.

[Kerrin]

------------NPC Mikkale

The two men with Mikkale took another noticeable step or two back as A’ric spoke, leaving Mikkale to face the bronze rider alone. The smaller, stockier man barked a laugh. “Who would you steal from then?” Mikkale said, not buying into A’ric’s threat either. It was an old argument that always ended in stalemate, with neither side willing to back up their threats. Usually.

Mikkale’s two friends both shook their heads, one holding up his good hand in appeasement. “Th-that's okay sir,” one of them stuttered. “We don't want to be a bother.” He took another step back, not fully trusting the rider or his dragon.

“What’re you cowards stammering on fer?” Mikkale turned on his two friends. “Don't be so--” He stopped mid sentence when he saw F’rendil approach. “YOU!” He shouted and pointed his finger dramatically at the brownrider. “What did you do with my wife?!” He lost all interest in his men and A’ric. All of his fury was turned toward F’rendil, his face turning red.


PC Kerrin-----------------

Kerrin started to look around for some way to escape. If Mikkale caught even a glimpse-- Suddenly, there was another man in front of her, further blocking her from the argumentative holders. She looked up to see Alibe, and gave him a grateful smile.

She flinched when Mikkale shouted. Too many nights had she been on the other side of that voice. She turned to see who was the subject of his ire, and saw F’rendil walking forward. She gasped in surprise, covering her mouth for fear of being heard. A sudden wave of guilt washed over her. She couldn’t let F’rendil take the brunt of Mikkale's anger. He wasn’t at fault! She started to take a step toward him.

[S'yloa]

Nov 10, 2024 15:04:03 GMT -8 Jannasper said:

“I know she wouldn't!” Jannasper laughed. “But when that other green got hurt, well, I couldn't help thinking what if it happened to you?” Concern filled his big brown eyes for a moment.

“I'll always be happy to see you!” His big, toothy grin reappeared as S’yloa put his arm over Jannasper’s shoulder. He didn't object to the physical contact. S’yloa’s touch was always kind and gentle, something he wasn't used to. “Mostly,” he replied with a shrug, but not elaborating further. He was used to being looked upon and made to do most of the work. He just accepted it. “It's my first time using equipment! I’d only ever spotted before,” There was a touch of pride in his voice at the increase in responsibility. “Will Engmyth be alright? She’s gotta be tired. Master J’zeni said greens ‘n blues don't usually fly an entire fall.”

Jannasper saw Engmyth rear up and flap her wings agitatedly. “Why’re the dragons so upset?” He asked, having been far enough afield that he hadn't heard the holder's initial complaints.

"How exciting to be able to use the equipment for the first time! I'm glad you got the experience. I'm so glad Engmyth found you." For selfish reasons too.

He nodded, pride in his voice as he agreed with Jannasper's assessment. "I'm grateful you're worried about her, but she'll be fine after a bathe, sleep, and a meal. A meal and a bathe sounds nice to me. Ja'ryns is right, chromatics don't fly for as long as the metallics - gold, bronze, and browns do. They don't have as much stamina. Engmyth and I rested during the 'Fall. We used mountain peaks and ledges to pause when she was tired. Landing in high places is a tactic to prevent a lot of betweening because - "

Engmyth's frustration raced through S'yloa's body and he shivered, unconsciously pulling Jannasper closer to him. "I don't - " The greenrider looked around. He noticed A'ric squaring off against three holdfolk, and watched as one hold man focused all his attention over the Wingleader's shoulder. That doesn't look good.

"I can't make out details from here, but that looks like A'ric - one of the Wingleaders - interacting with some of the holdfolk. Maybe whatever's going is agitating them. I don't like the look of it. It's making Engmyth very unhappy."


As they met up with the rest of the Groundcrew, two of the newer Candidates - the siblings Melyami and Yamiel - rushed to greet them. Jannasper knew the pleasant Yamiel and his younger sister Melyami, from Rivers Crossing Hold. They'd been Searched together a few sevendays ago.

"Hello, S'yloa!" Yamiel said. He glanced at Jannasper, then back to S'yloa. His gaze flickered briefly to the greenrider's arm slung around the other Candidate's shoulder. "Are you here to help us go back to the Weyr?"

"Yes, I'm going to - "

"That shouting sounds bad." Melyami added as she stared wide-eyed at the altercation. "That man's voice is a little scary, Yami."

"I know, sis." He nodded vigorously. To S'yloa he said, "We should get everyone to their rides home, don't ya think?"

"That's a good idea, Yamiel," the greenrider replied with a nod. S'yloa would never be a leader of dragonkind or be able to run a Wing, but he still could make plans easily enough. "Melyami could you ask Ailbe for the assignments. I'm sure he has them."

Melyami ran off toward Ailbe.

"I know one assignment, Yamiel. Jannasper, you're with me. I made special arrangements with the Weyrleader so you get to fly home with Engmyth and me."

[Jannasper]

Jannasper was all grins as S’yloa praised him. “Can I help bathe her?” he asked. While he didn’t put much importance on his cleanliness, he knew how important it was for dragons to be cleaned and scrubbed. His classes with the harper D’nel, while focusing on learning to read and write, the subjects were usually about dragons or learning about the Weyr. He found the work hard, but he liked learning about caring for dragons. “That’s really smart,” he said, visibly impressed by S’yloa’s strategy. His smile faded some at hearing Engmyth was unhappy. “I hope the Wingleader sets him right."

“Hi Melyami and Yamiel,” he said to his fellow candidates, smiling again at the siblings. They hadn’t held his past status against him. He didn’t notice the look Yamiel gave him and S’yloa, or see anything wrong with S’yloa’s touch. It was better than the beatings he used to get. “He’s not a good man if he’s yellin’ at the Wingleader.” He nodded solemnly. How could anyone be mad at Dragonriders after they’d just risked their lives to protect them? His smile returned when S’yloa mentioned his assignment to the green and his rider. “I do? Alright!” he exclaimed gleefully.

[A'ric]

The idea that someone would be scared of him when he was offering his healer services baffled A'ric. They were on the dimglow’s side, no doubt the holdman’s cronies were worried he’d do something untoward to them instead of legitimately healing them. He didn’t push the subject. In theory, they’d allow their own healer to fix their injuries. At least they backed down, unlike the other man who was too stubborn. Or too daft. The Wingleader shook his head at their reactions to his offer. “You’re not. I am a healer. I want to help.” He said but left it at that. He didn’t advance toward them at all.

He didn’t have a chance to reply to the ring leader’s final comment because in the next heartbeat, he watched as the other man’s face turned red, screaming a single word that surely turned heads. That was a sudden change in attitude. The finger point caused A’ric to look in its direction. His brows furrowed together when he saw to who Mikkale pointed. Why is he angry with F’rendil? Hm. It’s not the first time the brown’s gotten into trouble. It was now a good thing A'ric hadn’t moved. It gave him the ability to take a step backward and sideways to place himself between Mikkale and F’rendil. Due to the path F’rendil took there was a fair bit of distance between them, but by moving, A’ric made the silent point that Mikkale wasn’t going to get any closer.

Although he had no idea what occurred to make Mikkale livid with F’rendil, the Wingleader meant to defend his dragonrider. He meant to make sure there’d be no physical altercations between anyone except himself and whoever wanted to fight him. To this end, he made sure to be in Mikkale’s path and moved accordingly when the other did. So if the holdman wanted to get at F’rendil, he had no choice but to go through A’ric.

[Narrator]

NPCing Ailbe and Melyami

“Hi, Jannasper,” Melyami replied before she’d run off to find Ailbe.

—


“Don’t, Headwoman. F’rendil will be all right.” Ailbe said as he turned to face Kerrin. “You’ll draw attention to yourself. That will make whatever’s happening out there worse. Let the Wingleaer and the others handle it.” He put his hand on the top his flame-thrower. “Help me focus on securing the equipment so we can get out of here, please?"

“Ailbe!” Melyami arrived next to them, breathless. “Who is going where on the… I mean, who… hu hu…” She panted.

“Slow down, uh - “ She was new, he forgot her name. “- girl, catch your breath and then ask.”

“O… ok. How are we getting back to the Weyr? Who is going on which dragon?”

“Ah, thank you. Well, let me see… Jannasper and Mimi are going with Engmyth. You and your brother are on Chalqueth - he’s the big brown over there on the hill next to A’ric’s Caldreth. T’rai is his rider. Caldreth is taking Millian and Aclinyn. Ra’shin and his brown Sorenyth are meant to take Ulenten and Yueron. Hialith has Eoteru and Tellga. Hm…” He looked over at the hill where the dragons had gathered. "Mira and green Rasuith were supposed to pick up groundcrew, but they’re not here. Maybe Kaith can take Gerter too. She’s meant to take only Ahvorn. We’ll ask A’ric when he - uh, gets here.”

Not forgetting Kerrin, he drew her into the conversation. “Oh, you and Joliffe going on T'wenth. He’s the brown over there. F’rendil is his rider.” His eyes flickered toward the aforementioned brown rider. “Until he’s ready to leave, I’d appreciate your help organizing the others to get them headed toward their proper dragons.” His gaze slid toward the altercation. “Though we may want to do that after the holdfolk clear out.”

“Yeah.” Agreed Melyami. “Safety in numbers!"