[Prologue] - A History Lesson
Tawny
One must ponder where to begin this
unhappy story. Do you begin with those who perpetuate the feeling? Or the
initial cause of this unhappiness? Either way the story must be told in hopes
of preventing its reoccurrence. The event took place during the last few turns
of the 6th Pass of the Red Star. With
only eight Turns remaining before the end of the pass, all seemed well on Pern.
Then, without warning, a runner beast fell ill during the turns end
festivities, and it’s illness spread to every hold and weyr across Pern.
Within no time myriads of holders, craftsmen, and dragonriders were dying; and
the mysterious ailment had spread to all but the most inaccessible holds. Pern
was in mortal danger. With the help of Weyrwoman Moreta and Master Healer
Capiam the plague was subdued, or so they thought.
Flare ups of this frightful disease speckle the next hundred and ninety turns the most notable taking place during the turn 1641. Disease had overtaken a small hold on the main continent, the swift healing staff managing to contain the disease and eliminate its side effects before it spread to the rest of the population. However, the Weyrs took notice of this outbreak and began to unconsciously tighten policies in fear of another epidemic; the most extreme of which had been Ista Weyr.
Most would say their reasons were sound, out of all of the weyrs Ista had the most contact with its hold due to the small size of the island; while others would say it was severe pathophobia. Either way the weyr tightened its borders. Igen and Keroon holds were given to Benden and Igen for protection and tithes. Limitations were next placed on the riders and the candidates that they searched, finally banning of leaving the Island without expressed permission came into play. These restriction or chokeholds -according to some- began to take its toll not only those held captive by the weyr’s restrictions but on the health of the future generations of dragons.
The first instance of its consequences reared its head in the past turn as more instances of unhatching eggs began to become a norm for the Queen’s clutches. The weyr attributing it to a lack of candidates for the dragons to choose, that was until the very last Queen egg failed to hatch.
The first hints of dissident voices have begun to filter through the weyr. Their words calling for a change of leadership and policies, applying pressure onto the weakened state of Weyrleadership. Everything is on the very brink of collapsing if the Weyrleadership splinters any further.
And this is where I as representative of Harperhall must remove myself from the impeding mutiny. For myself to act or pick a side in these early fragile stages could tip the balance unfairly. So for this brief time I will myself to document the history of this very weyr.
For a moment Avarin sat back in his chair watching the page dry the freshly scrawled ink black as night. He had just cemented his stance on not becoming involved in the weyrs battle until asked to do so. Perhaps it was the wisest thing to do as the Harper had to play both sides to remain the constant ear of the hall. Unbiased in what he heard to allow the Master Harper to perform his duties. Allowing his gaze to move toward his empty ledge he fixated on the position of the sunlight. Dinner would be in just a few hours, and he had a few records to update still from the recent hatching…
(OOC: Let the posting commence!)