Watch 'em run amuck
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Corrin, Duskdog, Iluva, Sia
Date Posted: 15th April 2025
Characters: M'kadja, N'dhavi, K'valas, A'garyn
Description: There’s a holdless brawl in the tent camp over the ownership of a necklace. Akadja is jumped and help comes from an unlikely quarter?
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 5, day 7 of Turn 12
The night had settled in cool and crisp, the Weyr’s towering cliffs a black silhouette against the cloudy sky. There hadn’t been any more rain, thank the stars. The tent camp was already miserable enough, a tangled sprawl of canvas and mud with too many bodies too close together. Fires bloomed in the rare open space, providing a patch of light and warmth to gather around.
Akadja wove through the tents, boots squelching on the still sodden ground. His belly was heavy from the absurd meal he’d eaten in the dining hall--real red meat, baked bread, and more than anyone had a right to in one sitting. Even now, his body wasn’t sure what to do with it. He rolled his shoulders, fighting the creeping sluggishness as he picked his way warily through the shadows.
“I can’t believe they eat like that. All the time.”
“I’d heard the Weyr gets the best, but I don’t think I really knew what that meant ‘til now,” Naldhavi agreed. He may have eaten a little slower, but he had definitely had more than his fill. “Maybe we should’ve been robbing tithe caravans all this time. Or maybe just finding an “in” and skimming off the top. Safer, and they’d probably never notice!”
“We really should have,” Akadja chuckled, breaking off as a familiar high pitched chirp reached his ears. Dagger shot out of the darkness to land heavily on his master’s shoulder, the firelizard’s eyes whirling an alarming yellow. “Shit. ‘Dhavi, there’s--”
A heavy fist slammed into Akadja’s side, knocking the air from his lungs. He staggered, feet catching on a tether and suddenly he was falling, pulling half a tent down with him. Shouts erupted. People scrambled away from the wreckage as Akadja hurled his dinner out onto the canvas. Dagger screeched, fleeing back into the night.
“Thought you were clever, huh?” Thenard sneered, his lip curling in grim satisfaction as he stepped out from the shadowy folds of a tent. He was flanked by several of his friends, their faces half-lit by a crumpled glowbasket. “Those were big words at the table. Where’s all your fight now?”
Naldhavi vaulted over a mass of collapsed tent poles and canvas to put himself between the attackers and his fallen brother, crouching low. “Where was _your_ fight when it came to getting your valuables out of the caves, Thenard? You ran off with your tail between your legs and left your stuff behind, that makes it free pickings for people with more guts! The way I see it, you’d owe Akadja a finder’s fee, even if he _did_ want to give it back. Otherwise it’d be downriver somewhere!”
“A finder’s fee? For stealing what’s mine? You won’t be seeing a mark from me,” Thenard spat, his voice rising and filled with venom. “But I’ll have my own back if I have to rip it off your brother’s neck.” He lunged for Akadja--
--and Naldhavi lunged for _him_, their opposing momentum resulting in a tangle as the two men struggled for the upper hand. But Thenard wasn’t alone. One of his friends -- a tall, lean fellow with a mean glint in his eye -- used the distraction to push around the melee and leap on Akadja, booting him in the stomach before he could recover after his retching.
He managed to brace for it, but it still practically knocked the wind out of him and he tucked and rolled away from the pain--only for his collar to be snatched by a third attacker. Akadja’s breath was shallow, his ribs a hot coil of pain as his arms were pinned behind him and he was hauled to his feet to see the lean fellow closing in--
Only for Kavalas to step in, blocking the fist that was heading towards Akadja's face with a big forearm and landing his own well-placed fist into the lean man's gut. The breath whooshed out of him, and in the brief seconds that he was gasping for breath Kavalas braced himself and shoved, throwing the man off balance and staggering a few paces back, falling hard into the dirt. "Ain't so outnumbered now, assholes."
Panic spread, writhing through the air like a live contagion.
Behind Akadja and his captor, Aegaryn’s approach was nearly silent. With a swift leap he launched himself onto the man’s back, where, in the ensuing chaos, Aegaryn’s arm coiled around his thick neck, locking in, squeezing. For a moment, all three of them jolted, a shifting balance of weights that the big man slowly began to lose. Aegaryn’s free hand grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair, yanking his head back to gain leverage.
The man’s grip on Akadja faltered as Aegaryn tightened his hold, breath wheezing through clenched teeth. Akadja squirmed like a wildcat, yanking one arm free, and drove his elbow backward into the man’s ribs--once, twice--until the wheeze became a grunt and the hands clutching him spasmed open.
Akadja staggered forward, catching himself on a knee, ribs screaming. But rage burned brighter than the pain. He had been jumped, blindsided, humiliated. It had been a close call and he still wasn’t exactly sure who he owed his salvation to, but it wasn’t time to chitchat. It was time for some revenge.
He turned, breath ragged, and drove a punch into the gut of his former captor-- solid and satisfying. After that, things blurred together into one messy, violent rhythm. He wasn’t so outnumbered anymore. With his two impromptu allies and Naldhavi, Akadja was able to turn the tides.
What followed wasn’t a clean brawl. Fists and curses flew in equal measure. From the ground, the lean man swiped at Kavalas’ leg and got a boot in the face. Someone hit a pole and brought down another tent, sending its occupants shrieking and scrambling. The fight sprawled across a muddy alley through camp, feral and loud. Some joined in, picking sides. Others just tried to get out of the way.
By the time the weyrguard pushed into camp there were two more tents down and the necklace--_the_ necklace that had started it all--was nothing more than a mess of beads and twine trodden into the mud. With no proof, or prize to be had, Thenard sang the same song as Akadja:
“Just a disagreement, sirs.”
“Got a bit rowdy, but it’s over.”
“Sorry, sirs.”
It was Holdless business. No one else’s to settle.
Last updated on the April 25th 2025