20th of Saun, 716.
Being a handler for the Skye Verath Lodge meant more than what most people saw. Working with Volareon, Jacadon, occasionally Sarkin and even Gorde, they did more than than just groom, feed and treat them as little more as pets to visit on a regular basis. It was more than training them to be regular mounts or even war-mounts that flew in formation and attacked targets on command. When the going got tough, when the heat turned up, it was saving lives.
They'd all been called out. A Skyrider and her Volareon had gone out into the Royal Glenn on a little personal mission, and unknowingly picked up a Kidnapper Spider on the way. As they always did, the monsterous creature had hung itself over a common gaming trail, and when the Volareon passed underneath, it'd dropped down and stung it on the leg. The paralytic venom hadn't worked fast enough to paralyse any more of the larger creature, allowing the rider to shake the creature off - gaining a sting for herself in the process - and escape. Unknown to them both, it'd clung on... and when they took to the air, it stung again, finishing the job and completely paralysing the Volareon. Both it and its rider had fallen mid-flight, crushing the spider... but leaving both mount and rider heavily injured, both stung with a good deal of Kidnapper Spider paralysing venom.
Both hadn't landed far from the city. With good mounts, a host of doctors and veterinarians could be out and on the scene inside ten bits with the wind on their side. They could be, but they wouldn't be. Hearing the bizarre set of coincidences, the Infirmary had already pronounced the rider dead, claiming that the injury would send the venom straight to his heart... Kryll hadn't hesitated in refusing. Who would? So many other patients could be saved in the time that it would take to escort all of the staff needed, with all their supplies, down to investigate and treat the injuries of a man who could just as quickly die from the Kidnapper's venom the moment it hit his veins. As for the vet, well. The Lodge only had one. A young man with a constantly-pained expression and a sugar-coating of medical and surgical understanding.
He was sent out on the fastest horse he could fit in his saddle-bags, along with Poppy, Nir'wei and another regular handler. They'd treat the Volareon, and do whatever they could manage for the rider. If one, or even both died, then the rider would be sent to the morgue. The Volareon would be dragged back into the woods and left behind for whatever creatures that took it. One thing was for sure - the spider wouldn't take its meal back. The one saving grace in the whole mess was that the spider had been crushed under its own meal when it tried to finish the job.
"Come on, hurry!" Poppy shouted over her shoulder as Nir'wei fumbled with the reins and eventually abandoned them, clinging to his horse's neck as they rode out of the city gates in a full gallop. "If we don't make it within fifteen bells, it'll be too late!" If he had the courage, or the ability to raise his head an inch from where it was currently buried in the horse's wildly-thrashing mane, he'd have told her that if he tried to speed up any more, he wouldn't make it at all. It was hard enough coming to face the fact that there was a very real chance a man and his Volareon could die today, right in front of him, and nobody would be able to stop it. Trying to ride a horse, and a damn unruly one at that with that going through his head was a prescription for suicide. Poppy, noticing that Nir'wei was lagging behind, twirled back, grabbed his horse's reins in one hand and her own in the other, and rode them together in a feat that would have struck Nir'wei with awe, if he wasn't busy pissing over his own saddle all the way there.
Being a handler for the Skye Verath Lodge meant more than what most people saw. Working with Volareon, Jacadon, occasionally Sarkin and even Gorde, they did more than than just groom, feed and treat them as little more as pets to visit on a regular basis. It was more than training them to be regular mounts or even war-mounts that flew in formation and attacked targets on command. When the going got tough, when the heat turned up, it was saving lives.
They'd all been called out. A Skyrider and her Volareon had gone out into the Royal Glenn on a little personal mission, and unknowingly picked up a Kidnapper Spider on the way. As they always did, the monsterous creature had hung itself over a common gaming trail, and when the Volareon passed underneath, it'd dropped down and stung it on the leg. The paralytic venom hadn't worked fast enough to paralyse any more of the larger creature, allowing the rider to shake the creature off - gaining a sting for herself in the process - and escape. Unknown to them both, it'd clung on... and when they took to the air, it stung again, finishing the job and completely paralysing the Volareon. Both it and its rider had fallen mid-flight, crushing the spider... but leaving both mount and rider heavily injured, both stung with a good deal of Kidnapper Spider paralysing venom.
Both hadn't landed far from the city. With good mounts, a host of doctors and veterinarians could be out and on the scene inside ten bits with the wind on their side. They could be, but they wouldn't be. Hearing the bizarre set of coincidences, the Infirmary had already pronounced the rider dead, claiming that the injury would send the venom straight to his heart... Kryll hadn't hesitated in refusing. Who would? So many other patients could be saved in the time that it would take to escort all of the staff needed, with all their supplies, down to investigate and treat the injuries of a man who could just as quickly die from the Kidnapper's venom the moment it hit his veins. As for the vet, well. The Lodge only had one. A young man with a constantly-pained expression and a sugar-coating of medical and surgical understanding.
He was sent out on the fastest horse he could fit in his saddle-bags, along with Poppy, Nir'wei and another regular handler. They'd treat the Volareon, and do whatever they could manage for the rider. If one, or even both died, then the rider would be sent to the morgue. The Volareon would be dragged back into the woods and left behind for whatever creatures that took it. One thing was for sure - the spider wouldn't take its meal back. The one saving grace in the whole mess was that the spider had been crushed under its own meal when it tried to finish the job.
"Come on, hurry!" Poppy shouted over her shoulder as Nir'wei fumbled with the reins and eventually abandoned them, clinging to his horse's neck as they rode out of the city gates in a full gallop. "If we don't make it within fifteen bells, it'll be too late!" If he had the courage, or the ability to raise his head an inch from where it was currently buried in the horse's wildly-thrashing mane, he'd have told her that if he tried to speed up any more, he wouldn't make it at all. It was hard enough coming to face the fact that there was a very real chance a man and his Volareon could die today, right in front of him, and nobody would be able to stop it. Trying to ride a horse, and a damn unruly one at that with that going through his head was a prescription for suicide. Poppy, noticing that Nir'wei was lagging behind, twirled back, grabbed his horse's reins in one hand and her own in the other, and rode them together in a feat that would have struck Nir'wei with awe, if he wasn't busy pissing over his own saddle all the way there.
