Dragon Rider Play

Alistair was losing.  That was not an option.  He timed Jeremiah's movements, trying desperately to get a handle on him.  He had to have a weakness somewhere!

Jeremiah did have a few weaknesses, but they were typically covered by his fighting style. Finally, Jeremiah ended it by twisting behind Alistair and making him trip and fall.

Alistair rolled as he fell.  He acted instinctively, not even registering the move as he made it when he picked up an abandoned spiked shield and threw it hard. The spike hit first.  Jeremiah's leather vest he wore to protect himself from Erika's spikes protected him from the worst of it, but the spike still made it through about half an inch and the force of the blow cracked ribs.

(If you want it worse, he could fall or something and a cracked rib can break and puncture a lung.)

Unbalanced, Jeremiah fell backwards and the shield's weight broke the fractured rib. Jeremiah whimpered a little and pushed the shield off of himself before he started to cough up some blood. Something felt horribly wrong.

Alterrion noticed and came over. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" He demanded. He looked at Pat. "PAT! Go fetch 53!"

Pat took off running, sprinting to the medical ward for all she was worth.  She was screaming for the medic before she'd even reached the ward.

Alistair stood frozen.  He hadn't meant to do that.  That wasn't what was supposed to happen!

Alterrion took off Jeremiah's shirt and leather vest while he waited for 53. After that, the angel tried to slow down the bleeding, although he was now regretting not following a more typical healing path as a second proficiency.

Pat came running back with 53 in tow.  "Jeremiah!  How is he?  Is he going to be okay?"
53 huffed breathlessly but didn't take time to catch his breath as he knelt by Jeremiah and brushed Alterrion aside.

"He and Alistair were sparring as I instructed, and it went out of hand." Alterrion explained as he retreated from Jeremiah. Now he had other things to handle. "Alistair!" He barked.

53 grunted and got to work.  "Pat, come here and help me."
Pat willingly fell to her knees on Jeremiah's other side and began helping 53.

Alistair lowered his head.  "Sir?"

Jeremiah was in pain, but did his best to stay conscious, to stay awake. He feared what might happen if he fell unconscious.

"Explain." Alterrion demanded. It wasn't an option.

"I cannot," Alistair said quietly.  "There was no thought, only action.  I regret what I did.  I had not meant to wound him for real."

Alterrion narrowed his eyes. "53, how bad is it?" He asked. He would punish Alistair according to the severity of Jeremiah's state.

"Not good," 53 said, focused on Jeremiah.  "He'll live.  I need to get him back to the ward."

Alterrion narrowed his eyes. "Alistair, you will come and see me during your free periods for the near foreseeable future, and do not force me to come and find you, or else your punishment will become even more severe."

"As you wish, sir," Alistair replied, not even bothering trying o argue or protest.  What was done was done.

53 had put together a stretcher and together he and Pat carried Jeremiah off the field and toward the ward.

Jeremiah kept trying to stay awake, but even trying to breathe hurt a lot. His eyes were glazed in pain.

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