Name: Ambrin Age: 34 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman Courtesan (Assassin/Diplomat) turned mercenary Voice Actor: [X]
Physical Description: Ambrin has the look of a dashing adventurer, tall, blond, with a persistent evening shadow of beard growth and eyes blue as the sea on a sunny day. He has a robust, wide-shouldered build practically built for battle. And battled he has, his skin marked by many scars to prove it. He has a pleasant, if conveniently forgettable face. Most acquaintances only recall his vivid blue eyes and that cultured accent belying his origins at Courtesan Hall. His dress style is practical, yet classy. He is inclined toward tailed vests and exquisitely-detailed leather boots, gloves and belts, and rarely goes anywhere without his sword.
Personality: Not a hero and not a pirate is he, but perhaps a little bit of both. He can be a hero if that’s what you need, as long as there’s adequate compensation. And you’ll hand over some collateral, if you plan to make payment after the job is done. Nothing personal, he’s just not all that interested if there isn’t something guaranteed in it for him. Brin wants a favor from you? He’ll be polite as you please when he asks, but he’s not above using blackmail or other forms of persuasion to get it.
Occasional threats and strong-arming aside, he’s actually a fairly nice fellow. He is courteous to all, even if he strongly dislikes a certain few. He prefers to have as few enemies as possible, and plenty of friends and allies. The unfortunate thing is that a large amount of his social interactions are really business in his mind, and don’t afford a lot of real intimacy. A warm bed can still feel awfully chilly without a true, personal connection.
When that empty feeling starts to come over him, Ambrin prefers distraction as his response. He’ll do something unexpected, such as taking up a strange new hobby, playing a prank, or surprising a companion with a days-long adventure.
Positive Trait List Spontaneous, charming, easy-going, pragmatic Negative Trait List Forceful, sly, materialistic, lonely
History:
Ambrin was born a courtesan at Western Hold, chosen and taken from his parents at birth to train under a master assassin. He was secretly taught hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship, and knifework. He worked as a child actor along with his younger sister Euma, and most of their income went to their masters, who, for all intents and purposes, owned them. When he was a bit older, he started his real work, often collaborating with Euma, who had apprenticed as a spy, to gather information and set up the hit before making his move. He loved the planning and tactics of the setup stage, but found that he hated the violent part wholeheartedly. It made him sick and spiritless afterward, but he had no choice but to obey his master.
When he was eighteen, he bonded with an island forest cat and trained it to assist. It made for quick and easy hits when set up properly, and Ambrin promptly got lazy and let the cat do the work he hated. It wasn’t long before he overestimated the feline’s ability and set him against the wrong opponent. Ambrin’s cat was killed and the young man barely survived against his mark, who was a much better swordsman. From then on, he focused on the sword as his weapon of choice, and became quite skilled.
At that point, his public guise as a diplomat had evolved throughout the turns until he was primarily sought as a lady’s hired escort to social events. He was attractive enough to land several repeat clients, all of which he doted upon by measure of the wages they paid. It was great cover, getting him into all sorts of places where he’d normally need to sneak in order to reach a mark. It just so happened that one evening he was escorting a young lady to a dragon hatching, and he was absently listening to her vacuous babbling while scanning the other guests to locate his mark when he suddenly heard a voice in his head. He’d Impressed brown Beylith from the stands.
Ambrin’s cover was blown, but what a stroke of opportunity! It was his chance for freedom.
As soon as he could fly with Beylith, he fled the control of his master and turned to mercenary work, taking his sister with him. He took on several hirelings and jobs from all over Pern, staying away from assassination work if it could be helped. However, one job in particular offered the rare chance to stand as a candidate in a hold-recently-turned-weyrhold dragon hatch as payment for services – the catch was that the prize would only be guaranteed if the men of the reigning family were removed from power… permanently. It was not easy to arrange: there were ten targets in the holder’s immediate family and blood relatives. Some were still just boys. Ambrin knew his sister Euma would not approve, so he and his posse did it without her knowledge. A new bloodline took over the weyrhold and Euma Impressed her green Reth at the hatch. He’d believed his actions were justified when weighed against the benefit of having another dragon, but it still left a bad taste in Ambrin’s mouth and a heaviness inside that stayed with him for many turns to come.
A couple of turns later, Ambrin got a permanent gig with a Lord Holder who had ties to Bitra. This holder was obsessed with runnerbeast racing – betting, buying, selling, cheating, bullying – every aspect of the sport. It became Ambrin’s responsibility to protect the holder’s equine assets and occasionally do some dirty work. At one point, he even protected his employer’s favorite jockey, some jittery idiot who managed to Impress a brown. The fool and his dragon were completely unaware of the danger they were in, almost getting poisoned or ambushed countless times.
How Jakoli and brown Auroth ended up in his posse, Ambrin was never quite sure. He knew Euma and her green had something to do with it, so there really was no getting out of it. He took some comfort in the fact that at least he now had some leverage over his employer. He quite happily negotiated higher wages by virtue of the threat of taking Jakoli elsewhere.
Aside from that small bonus, the jockey was nothing but a burden and a liability until Threadfall hit Pern with devastating effect. Technically, it was his athletic and conscientious dragon Auroth who proved himself to be worth his weight in marks, defending and evacuating other members of the posse from the deadly rain with natural skill that Ambrin and Beylith had to work hard to match even with their disciplined practice. But the two came as a unit, and that was that.
It was the dragons who suggested going somewhere to get real training in how to fly against Thread. Ambrin could almost hear the clink of marks falling into his purse at the thought of exploiting those lords holder by selling his posse’s Threadfighting skills by the hour. They dallied about with different weyrholds for quite a few sevendays before finally deciding that the major weyrs were the only places to get decent training. They settled on Western, because it was close to home and though the training there might not be as good as that which could be had at High Reaches, Ambrin was certain it would be easier to leave when he felt it was time.
For the last couple of months, Ambrin has been biding his time, training with Beylith at Western as an upstanding wingrider until he can locate a reliable source of firestone. It will take a while to convince him that his plan could fail, but he’s beginning to realize just how scarce such a source actually is.
Other:
DRAGON Name: Beylith Age: 12 Color: Brown Size: 34’
Physical Description: Browns aren’t generally thought of as flashy dragons, but this fellow certainly makes a statement. The vast majority of his body is a pale beige, accented by a few nut-brown patches atop his head, splashed across his chest, and washed over his entire tail as if it had been dipped in dye. He doesn’t like to be out in midday sun if it is too strong, as the large swaths of lighter hide are sensitive.
Like his rider, he is otherwise pretty forgettable all around for his color, average size and build with unremarkable physical abilities as well. His most unique features aside from color are a long tail, toes and talons and a slightly convex nose.
Personality:
Beylith doesn’t want to stay in one place for a long time. He’d rather be on the move, and doing something interesting (and hopefully profitable) every day. Being stuck in the same place, doing the same thing day after day makes him feel trapped. It’s led to some pretty weird habits, such as a tendency to fidget in an uncannily human way. He’ll build little walls out of stones, pick petals off of flowers, roll rocks or other small items around in his claws, hum tunelessly, eat out of boredom.
Part of his boredom stems from an inability to be outgoing, even with other dragons. He tends to peek around corners at those pretty greens and those strong bronzes he’d love to be like, admiring them from a distance. Most of his draconic friends are the ones who introduced themselves by gregariously forcing themselves upon him, or those he worked with in close quarters for a time – Reth, ridden by Ambrin’s sister Euma, was one of the latter.
When it comes to rank, he’s pretty much okay with whatever was decided by the powers that be. A gold is the boss here? No problem. A green wingleader’s in charge there? Gotcha. Bey will cheerfully go where he fits in comfortably and can do his job competently. He does take pride in doing a job well, and will go to great lengths to make it happen.
This brown suffered no great losses in the first Threadfall, but the instinct to fight it runs strong in Beylith’s blood. He is aware of his rider’s plan to find a private source of firestone, but is not completely convinced that it is a good idea. He feels that the full fighting wings in the weyrs are the best defense, and anything less is probably not worth the cost of maintenance.
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2017 8:01 am
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3573.06 [SRP] RP Title – Short description
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Teiha
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Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2017 8:03 am
Name: Euma Age: 28 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Apprentice Courtesan (Spymastery/Clothing designer) turned mercenary Physical Description: Euma has quite the head of hair, a cloak of voluminous golden blonde that spills in ripples down to the soft curve of her lower back. She keeps it well groomed, as she does the rest of herself. Her fair skin is well looked after with creams and other daily preparations, and just a touch of makeup to enhance her round blue eyes. Euma isn’t too tall, only about 5’3”, but she compensates for it with her style – and some heeled footwear if necessary. The womanly contours of her body are complemented by the flattering cuts of her self-made clothes. Lately she’s been dressing a little more practically while on duty as a wingrider, what with all those chilling hops Between, but she keeps two chests full of outfits and fabrics in bright and rare colors for special occasions.
Personality: If you’re looking for this little blonde at a party, she’ll be that sweet, polite girl who floats about, looking pretty and making small talk. You might notice her standing awfully close to you, but she probably doesn’t realize she’s in your space. She’ll be completely absorbed in her conversation partner – not that you aren’t terribly interesting too! Indeed, Euma will cheerfully hang on your every word with her “third ear,” whether they were meant for her or not, and file them away for a time when they’ll be profitable.
It’s something she does almost without even being aware of it as she goes through the day. And goodness, she hears a lot at Western Weyr. Funny thing, though, most of it she’s been keeping to herself. That’s strange. Must be something in the water there.
When she’s not busy socializing, Euma can often be found sewing, drawing outfit designs, or reading. She’s actually quite literate – part of her nosiness, of course. All those forged business records and illicit love notes..! But back to the sewing. This young woman relishes the creation of a good outfit, and a great outfit will keep her glowing for days.
Speaking of glowing, she’s got this big green bodyguard who does something like that every couple of months or so. Yeah, that’s her dragon, Reth. Reth is the source of her courage. Before Reth, Euma was easily spooked and consequently suffered a lot of cold sweats. Now, though, the only thing that really scares her is The Dark. She won’t enter a dark room without a light source, and even with light she’d much rather have Reth or a good friend with her when she goes in.
Euma’s other main source of strength is her brother, Ambrin. From him she learned loyalty to family… well, loyalty to a band of offbeat drifters and castoffs. Shhh, they’re good people! And big brother taught her how to enjoy her lot in life, to have pride and independence. So she loves herself, her own looks and talents… sometimes a little too much. What? It’s not her fault she has more than some of those other girls! They’re just jealous.
Positive Trait List Polite, outgoing, inquisitive, creative Negative Trait List Superficial, nosy, nervous
History:
When Euma arrived, Western Hold welcomed its newest little resident with a smile, a hug, and a handoff to a master spy. The family business... wasn’t particularly family-centric. Euma was lucky enough to be able to grow up nearby her older brother Ambrin, but never knew her parents. She spent her early years onstage as a child actress, and there, surrounded by the most beautiful costumes, discovered her love for clothing. Her master approved of clothing design as her official cover and set her up with a prominent seamstress, who was also secretly a spy.
From this woman, Euma learned how to do what she loved, and how to practice her true craft at the same time. In the seamstress’s high-class shop, talk of all sorts could be heard as ladies browsed the displays. The girl learned how to filter out important information from the gossip, and who to sell it to when she wasn’t sharing it with her brother. She also attended many gathers and other events and learned how to blend in, even if she wasn’t nobility herself, just by dressing and acting the part. Her innocent appearance was a great boon in leading others to overlook her while she listened in on their conversations.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t all a completely positive experience. A pretty little thing in pretty little dresses, Euma was targeted by men in ways she was not always willing to accept. She had a few close calls in the streets after dark, which led her to learn some self defense… and develop a terrible fear of the darkness. She became hyper-vigilant and never went anywhere without a knife tucked up somewhere inside those ruffles. She also became a bit too focused on judging by people’s outward appearance, conveniently forgetting that she was a fraud herself.
When Ambrin Impressed a dragon and summarily whisked her away from that life to be mercenaries, she was relieved to escape the dangers but very sad about losing her (fake) social status. She did warm to the freedom of working with her brother for themselves, setting herself to the task of outfitting every member of their posse with functional, yet stylish gear, as well as continuing to make marks from selling clothes at gathers everywhere they went. The information she gathered through her business no longer went to the highest bidder, but went straight to Ambrin for the good of their group. It was by far a better life, but she was still scared of many things, and was never able to truly relax her vigil unless Ambrin was in sight.
Before long, Ambrin got Euma her own dragon, presenting the chance to stand as a Candidate as a gift for her nineteenth nameday. He’d told her it was a favor from a friend. She did Impress, and green Reth became her world from that moment on. Reth was her truest friend and constant guardian – with the loyal green at her side, she was safe.
After wandering Pern for several turns, Ambrin’s posse became hired guards for a holder who loved the races. They spent most of their time in Keroon, watching over their employer’s interests, including a particular jockey. This jockey also happened to be a dragonrider – Jakoli of brown Auroth. Reth was taken with Auroth’s odd dichotomy of being both nurturing and, well… a bad boy. Euma was taken with Jakoli’s sunny, affectionate and altogether benign disposition. He was also terribly cute. She drafted him into the posse as soon as he expressed a need for more income to feed his brown.
Like several other girls before her, when Euma discovered that Jakoli didn’t return her romantic interest, she was heartbroken. Reth, fiercely loyal as she was, instantly revoked her affection for both Auroth and his rider. She hated those two and wanted to get back at them by getting them kicked out of the posse, but Euma was not vindictive. She fought with her green for the first time ever, over boys, of all things. From that point on, Reth became overprotective of her rider whenever a man showed even the slightest hint of interest.
The calamitous phenomenon of Pern’s first Threadfall in a thousand turns was frightening when it hit Keroon, but ultimately caused little trouble to Ambrin’s posse. They simply loaded up the dragons and winked Between, avoiding damage and any responsibility to anyone else. The holder they’d worked for would just have to fend for himself. There was plenty of opportunity elsewhere for employment.
Not long after that, Euma and Reth found themselves enlisted into one of Western Weyr’s fighting wings, thanks to Ambrin’s strategy for their next big payday. Ambrin told them to blend in, but not to get too attached to anyone or to any fanciful ideas of heroism. They weren’t going to stay long.
It was weird, frankly, to be surrounded by so many other dragons and their riders… but Euma quickly came to love it. It felt, to her, almost like being a courtesan back at Western Hold, attending gatherings full of people every single day. She easily fell back into her pattern of dressing to impress, hobnobbing and soaking up every bite of gossip she could wrap her ear around. And unlike in the past, she no longer felt the need to carry a concealed knife, not with Reth there to protect her.
DRAGON Name: Reth Age: 9 Color: Green Size: 24’
Physical Description: Reth is a square, compact, medium-sized green. Each limb is rippling with muscle, and her large ribcage is built for deep breaths and stamina reserves. The curves of her neck and tail are strong but feminine, as is her fine-featured head, with a narrow muzzle, large eyes and headknobs that stand upright, as the ears of an alert canine. She carries herself with proud elegance, a bearing which she also takes into the air. She has good endurance for a green, and a lot of speed. She tends to use it in short bursts to conserve her strength.
Personality: Don’t you touch my rider. Don’t touch! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!
That’s hers, thank you very much!
To a fault, Reth is loyal to her rider. She wants to be everywhere Euma is, and to be included in everything she does. If she can fit, she’s coming, and she’d better fit... or else! If other humans have to be there, she’ll tolerate them, but one funny look, one step too close, and the Warden will have her eye on that one henceforth. The exception to this rule is children. She finds the little ones to be curiously pleasant and amusing.
She’s much more forgiving with her own kind, but still picky with her friendships. She is most attracted to dragons with an interesting, unusual trait or habit. With her loved ones, Reth is quite playful and affectionate, and fiercely protective. She’ll only show her sensitive side to those special few. Her sensitive side hates being alone, is a little self-conscious, and gets bored pretty easily – hence her preference for dragons who are naturally a little stranger than the rest.
As for life at Western Weyr, Reth thinks there are far too many suitors, and far too many mating flights going on. She has her claws full looking after her rider, who seems a little too comfortable with their situation, and a little too oblivious to potential dangers, for her tastes. What she does like about being in the weyr is the chance to use her own abilities, to fall in line and serve those above – and below – herself. It appeals to her sense of honor, and makes her feel strong. She prefers being part of the mechanism, seeing how her contribution makes it just a little more effective as a whole.
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2017 8:04 am
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3573.06 [SRP] RP Title – Short description
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Teiha
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Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2017 8:06 am
Name: Jakoli Age: 26 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman runner racer, mercenary
Physical Description: Upon a first glance, Jakoli is a tall, willowy man with long legs and a smile sweet enough to fix up the most bitter cup of klah. After just a short time of observation, you’d realize the smile is more or less a permanent fixture. The tip of his nose has a slight upward curve, the straight line of its bridge leading up to his dark brown eyes. His slightly elongated, heart-shaped face is framed by hair a few shades lighter than his eyes, with bangs curving to one side and longer locks flaring out just above his shoulders. On warmer days, excess hair will be tied back. His style is to dress simply, with a loose tunic over fitted slacks and soft leather boots.
Personality: Jakoli is a high-spirited, high-powered fellow who exists in the moment and doesn’t spend much time inside his own head. Indeed, you’ll never catch him waxing philosophical. He never stops moving, if he’s forced to sit for any length of time he will swing his legs, fold napkins, stretch, anything to bleed out some of that boundless energy. He loves interacting with others above all else, largely by acting as silly as possible. He has no personal space and usually forgets that most people do. He loves to poke, prod, hug, kick, shake, hang on, sing at, make fun of, and otherwise pester everyone who will let him get away with it – and once he gets started, he has a compulsion to push it as far as possible and will not stop until he is forced to. Those who’ve known him long enough (should) know better than to let him get started at all.
Truth be told, he’s a bit vain and expects his looks and charming exuberance to protect him as it did throughout his childhood. He takes this perceived immunity for granted and will often ignore verbal correction, either needing a remedial course of hard labor or a resounding slap for it to finally sink in. Even then, he rarely feels any actual remorse. He’ll just stop whatever inappropriate thing he had been doing and go on as if the incident had never happened, apparently forgetting that he was ever punished. If it never happened, then he never did anything wrong, right?
Jakoli’s lack of negative baggage makes him incredibly cheerful. While it is generally a good thing for brightening a social atmosphere, it sometimes results in a feeling of invincibility that gets him into dangerous situations. He can usually be talked down by a good friend, but past a certain point, the only one who can get through to him is Auroth, his dragon.
Another unintended result of his exuberance is complications in his relationships, especially if the other person is already attracted to him. He’s demonstrative physically and verbally with those he perceives as a friend, which is pretty much everyone, male or female. It wouldn’t take much of a stretch to misinterpret as romantic interest, if someone should be so inclined. He is also prone to flirting aggressively and shamelessly if it makes a pretty girl act shy and awkward, even if he’s not interested in her, because he finds that sort of behavior irresistibly cute. He is terrible at damage control if he ends up hurting someone’s feelings in these situations. It’s not that he doesn’t feel bad about it, it’s just that he can’t wipe that smile off of his face, even when honestly trying to apologize. That rarely, if ever, goes down well.
A good rule of thumb is that anyone who has known Jakoli for any length of time may already think of him as a half-wit, a womanizer, or both, even though in truth he is neither.
Positive Trait List Gregarious, energetic, sunny, fearless, candid, imperturbable Negative Trait List No boundaries, insolent, inflammatory, reckless, unrepentant, a horrible tease
History:
Jakoli grew up in a cothold beholden to Keroon, where the family trade was runner breeding. His parents were Jakino, a Journeyman breeder, and Toreli, a Journeyman beasthealer. He was always extremely energetic and easily distractable, even as a babe. He was a pest and a nuisance on the entire hold from the moment he learned how to walk and open doors, always getting in the way and putting himself in perilous situations. The only thing that could slow him down for any length of time was working with runnerbeasts. He instinctively became quiet around them and seemed to understand their needs. His father recognized and jumped on that small miracle, having his son officially apprenticed as a jockey for the cothold as soon as he was old enough. It gave him a channel for his energy and also got him away from the cothold to race, often for several weeks at a time.
Jakoli’s father became ill and died when he was a teen. Without Jakino’s firm guidance, Jakoli became too much for his mother to handle. He again became a plague upon the cothold and neighboring settlements, and this time, as a young adult, there were often girls involved. Though the majority of Jakoli’s interactions with the opposite sex were innocent for his part, his tendency to be physically demonstrative with friends created a lot of confusion and assumptions that were not taken well by the fathers of the lady friends in question. After a particularly violent brawl with a particularly angry father, Jakoli’s local reputation was sealed and he left home to become a jockey for hire in Keroon.
He did very well for himself and became known as a dependable jockey. By chance, he was able to enter a special race and won the right to stand at a dragon hatching as a prize for placing first. He Impressed Auroth, a lovely brown. Jakoli continued to provide for himself and Auroth through the races until Auroth got too large to feed with his winnings, leading to the very real danger of Auroth wishing to eat the valuable racing runners. Rather desperate at this point, Jakoli got himself hired by Euma, a greenrider and sister of Ambrin, a dragonrider and leader of a mercenary group that was operating under one of the holders that Jakoli rode for. Their main tasks were to protect the Lord Holder’s runnerstock, collect bet payouts (by whatever means necessary), and occasionally provide “motivation” to throw a race or pull an entry.
After Thread returned, Auroth and the other mercenary dragons pushed to go to a weyr to learn how to fight it properly. The mercenaries’ leader, Ambrin, thought it would be another way to make good money, so the entire crew went to Western Weyr with the undisclosed assumption that they would train, find their own source of firestone, and leave in a lurch to continue their self-made living.
Physical Description: Auroth’s large frame is wrapped in wiry muscles, every movement made is controlled, purposeful, conservative. This discipline is a habit that conceals much evidence of his substantial reserves of stamina and vigor. His hide, velvets in warm shades of clay, is supple and soft to the touch. This brown is usually seen in a fair mood, but rarely relaxed or inattentive.
Personality: Frankly, Auroth functions as something of a nursemaid to his rider. He is the responsible one, tending to want to correct Jakoli’s and anyone else’s bad behavior with a stern, yet gentle correction. He often predicts when a situation is going to end up poorly and attempts to prevent that expected outcome.
He’s kept busy and deals with much stress, but instead of taking breaks, he holds it all in to the point that when it’s time to play, he plays HARD. In this state, he is not above playing dirty in order to win. He’s been ordered down by gold dragons a few times for getting too unruly during a mating flight. And, of course, Jakoli just eggs him on. He also has episodes of terrible vanity and excessive flirting with the ladies when he gets close to his limits.
Auroth takes excellent care of his own health in order to be able to keep up with his rider. He has a huge appetite and has developed the ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere he has a few moments to spare in order to stay energized. He appreciates the security and consistency of rank, believing that if he can get Jakoli to stay at Western Weyr, he will have a channel for his energies and fulfill a good purpose by falling into his proper place as a wingrider.
Posted: Sat Jul 15, 2017 8:16 am
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3573.06 [SRP] RP Title – Short description
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Posted: Wed Aug 09, 2017 2:31 pm
Name: Talela (tah-lee-lah) AKA "Old Auntie Tally" Age: 74 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: Western Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Apprentice herder/Beastcraft, Creche worker Physical Description: This woman doesn't look a day over fifty-five. Well, maybe a bit closer to sixty. Still, a bit of extra youth is one of the perks of being a dragonrider that she enjoys. She's a slim woman of about 5'8" with bright ginger hair in heavy curls. She keeps it cut just past her shoulders, and normally tied back in a thick tail. Talela's eyes are round and blue, nestled above the numerous freckles of her cheeks. Her lips are still lovely and on the softer side, usually curved in a gentle smile. A few wrinkles tucked in the corners of her features balance out her youthful looks with a dash of maturity. She still dresses in attractive cuts and rich colors when appropriate, having no major physical faults to be ashamed of. She's not the youngest woman in the weyr, but certainly not the oldest!
Personality: You would be hard-pressed to find another old auntie as cheerful as this one. Talela, nowadays better known as "Auntie Tally," is notorious for her kindness and good humor, whatever the situation. For an older woman, she is surprisingly fit and physically capable -- likely due to her bond with Vimiath. Age has slowed her down some, but she still works light duty, both in her capacity as a dragonrider and in the creche, when she can get away with it.
She always had a way with younglings that was playful, but also built up trust and obedience. She's fostered at least fifty children for varying lengths of time, and can still remember all of them by name, even though most days she can barely remember her own. She'd probably forget it completely if not for Vimiath's telepathic chatter giving her constant reminders. Not that it matters, really. "Auntie" is a perfectly suitable substitute by her book.
Talela's forgetfulness also sometimes causes her to forget just exactly how old she is. Those are the times she'll flirt with one of those handsome young dragonmen, or, alarmingly, try to insert herself and Vimiath into a position of higher altitude during Threadfall. So far, the damage has been minimal, thanks to Vimiath and Western residents who know Auntie Tally's silly ways.
She doesn't often talk about her dearly departed weyrmate Jylacus, even with her dragon, preferring that she and Vimiath focus on the present and remain a positive force for those who may look up to them. There are nights, though, when she lies awake, curled around his pillow and wishing to be with him again, wherever he is.
Positive Trait List : Self-deprecating, caring, jocular Negative Trait List: Forgetful, sad, overestimates her abilities
History:
Talela came from a cothold near Keroon, and vaguely recalls being given responsibility for a small herd of ovines as a child. She met her first dragon quite young, not even ten turns old. She remembers having compassion for the blue searchdragon and giving him permission to eat a few of her charges -- and the raw outrage of her father when he came upon the scene. Apparently, the animals in that particular herd had been very valuable.
The bluerider from Western Weyr did make some sort of recompense, and a few turns later he returned on an official Search and somehow convinced the little girl's father to let her come to the weyr to be groomed for her chance to become a dragonrider. Little did any of them suspect that that "grooming" would last for a good ten turns or so of standing on the hot sand, dodging claws and teeth and watching everyone else Impress.
Talela spent most of her time as a Candidate working in the creche, caring for a two-legged herd instead of four. She was known as "the fun mom" by most of her charges, though when she first started, she was barely a few turns older than some of them. She fostered dozens of children, and remained in contact with as many as possible as they grew up and went their own ways.
By twenty-nine turns of age, the young woman had pretty much given up hope of Impressing, but she was content. The last time she stood as a Candidate in 3529, it was more as moral support for the majority of her fellow Candidates -- weyrbrats whom she had fostered. A clutch of twenty-one eggs from golden Herath awaited them, shells bursting to reveal a stunning spectrum of every color. Talela flitted here and there, carefully rearranging some of the youngest Candidates to keep them out of reach of flailing dragonets. She was a professional at it, by then!
As she made her rounds, the oldest of all the Candidates came face to face with quite a few greens and a couple of blue dragonets who seemed rather interested in her. She found one of the blues to be a fetching creature, and kept her eye on him through the whole event. The single gold hatchling, a svelt little feline barely as big as the largest of her blue brothers, appeared more interested in a particular pair of boys than any of the girls on the sands, and flirted shamelessly with them. Talela was amused to see that the two bronzes of the clutch later Impressed to those boys.
Talela's favored blue did come to her, snuffling her hands in a most curious manner. She bent and looked into his eyes, hoping he would return her gaze... and then the blue was hip-checked out of the way by his lustrous golden sister. You only need look into my eyes, the dragonet crooned in her mind, to join with the one you've awaited for so long! I am your Vimiath, dearest Talela!
The woman collapsed to her knees as Impression was made, cupping Vimiath's face and pressing her forehead against the hatchling's. She was laughing, even while she sobbed uncontrollably. The other Candidates, many of them now joined to their own dragons, surrounded the pair and whooped and shouted their joy and congratulations, thrilled that their foster mother had finally found her lifemate. Though it could never compare to the joy of Impressing, she was deeply touched by the cheers of her kids.
Vimiath proved to be Talela's perfect match, needing the woman's genial but firm discipline while providing a layer of excitement, fun and politics that Talela never imagined she'd experience. Even in progressive Western Weyr where color didn't necessarily equal leadership quality, gold dragons still elicited a certain, often unconscious respect from many. Being noticed as more than "that nice creche worker" was definitely new to the young woman, and Vimiath made sure the both of them received a lot of attention. The two were never elected into the Council, but still made their mark on the weyr--
--The mark of two hundred and ten new dragons, that is, over ten sizable clutches. Vimiath just loved making offspring, but didn't care so much to raise them. That was Talela's strong suit.
And speaking of making offspring, Talela had many turns as a Candidate to play the field, but she only needed a few short relationships to find her heart's desire -- a Courtesan named Jylacus. He was absurdly handsome, smart, well-spoken, and gave the best massages she'd ever had. Not long after Vimiath's first flight in 3532, Talela took Jylacus as her weyrmate. To her, he was like something out of the idle fantasies of her youth, and she loved him passionately. He was wholeheartedly devoted to her in return, and their bond remained strong for more than thirty turns and half a dozen children of their own.
It was almost easy for Talela to accept when she realized in those later turns that Jylacus was hiding something from her. A lot of things, actually. He wasn't unfaithful to her, no, nothing like that. It was that he had a secret side, a person he didn't let her see, who lived in the shadows and did things that were equally dark. Even though she knew she may be crossing into the point of no return, Talela loved and trusted him enough to ask plainly if he had ever killed a man. And her mate was truthful. He hadn't killed a man, not with his own hands... but he had done many things that ultimately lead to men's untimely ends. He also admitted to sedating her on occasion by putting substances in her drinks while resting in their weyr, providing both an alibi and a secure location for discreet meetings to be held. The pain at having to do such things to his beloved had been so clear in his face that there was no way Talela could believe that he ever intended to harm her.
She was sad, of course, but at that point nothing could have changed her feelings for Jylacus. In fact, she even blamed herself for his death. When he was found bearing a mark signifying a hit by one of Nabol's gangs, she feared that somehow, by her asking questions, she had blown his cover.
Since the loss of her weyrmate, she's begun to get a little senile and will occasionally find herself in strange places and be unable to recall how she got there. She'll usually gloss it over with a joke, implying that someone may have slipped a little something into her drink.
Other: Yes, Talela's a little young (for a dragonrider) to be going senile. Her senility was largely caused by whatever substances Jylacus used to sedate her. It was a pretty regular thing and caused some permanent damage that just happened to manifest right after he passed. Talela had 6-7 kids with Jylacus, who would be between ages 22-40 turns in the present. And foster kids out the wazoo, ages 0-66 assuming she started working in Western's creche at 14 turns. Add in Vimiath's 210 kids and... well, together, they're probably responsible to some degree for half the population of Western...
DRAGON Name: Vimiath Age: 45 Color: Gold Size: 40' Physical Description: At forty feet of shapely muscle, this gold is all curves. Small curves, that is. She's one of the smallest of her color out there, but that doesn't bother her. Vimiath is very aware of her own loveliness, and moves with poise and confidence. Her body is built to entice, each limb well-proportioned, her head delicate with large eyes a gently-dished nose, her tail long and supple. Vimiath's hide is an even shade of the same soft, gleaming gold all over, with no markings to clutter the handsome details of her form.
Personality: Viamath is not old, thank you! Dragons don't age like runnerbeasts, or even humans, for that matter! And besides, even at her age, Vimiath is still a very... fruitful sort of dragon.
Clutching is decidedly her favorite function as a gold. Presiding over a generous brood makes her feel so grand, so big, so beautiful! Look at us! Look at me! Vimiath is never happier than when she is surrounded by her own eggs. As any mother, she wants to see her children safely Impressed once they hatch, but then her job is done. She loves them, but they'll be fine with their bonded, no need to keep tabs... no, she'll just start the countdown for the next bunch!
In light of that, it is fortuitous that she just so happens to love each and every one of those bronzes, blues and browns. Even the unpleasant or ugly ones, or the ones who are... confused. They're all potential sires-in-waiting, each with something wonderful to contribute to the next generation. She'd rise once every sevenday for them, if she could. Since she can't do that, she settles for doting upon them, often in mixed-color and age groups.
She's not picky about her mates, but she IS picky about what she eats. Vimiath will only consume what she perceives to be the best -- she favors caprines, especially younger, darker-colored beasts. She won't touch any with white spots on their fur, believing that to be a sign of sickness or weakness. Wherries are her last resort if nothing else is available.
Vimiath doesn't appreciate being thought of as "old," but she does enjoy using her age as license to get away with things younger dragons get scolded for. She'll steal things for a laugh, leave half-eaten carcasses for others to clean up, cause distractions during greenflights, anything that she can do to get her jollies. And if she can get friends to join in, so much the better!
Name: A’myl Age: 25 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingrider Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman Harper/Vocal and violin. Dabbles in composing and lyric writing as a hobby. Physical Description: Unlike his tall and rather dashing brothers, who take after their father, A’myl takes after his mother. He’s more on the short side at 5’6”, with brown hair that is usually neatly groomed into place. There is a slight convex curve to the bridge of his nose, and that, combined with darkest brown eyes sharp enough to cut glass, gives him an almost raptor-like look when he’s focused or vexed over something. A smile results in dimples and a flash of white teeth that are well-cared for. He is very fit and well-muscled, but perhaps a shade too thin at times, as evidenced by an occasional hollowness in his pale, high-boned cheeks.
Personality: A’myl is an exceedingly conscientious person. He is very diligent about his work and studies and will cheerfully do less desirable jobs and assignments, believing that even the lowest task is essential to keeping everything running smoothly for all. He’s known for being caring and motherly, but can and will be a nag if things aren’t up to his expectations. He does have a lot of pride and a quick temper, shown by a sharp word and reddened ears, but it rarely lasts very long. Conversely, make him laugh hard enough and his knees will give out. That’s always a good thing if you’re looking to smooth any ruffled feathers he might have. Generally, A’myl is very kind and loves being around people. He has a huge soft spot for animals and children, especially his baby niece Ayona – aside from Viyanakerth, Ayo is his whole world.
The boy knows he looks good, and is confident but not vain about it. He takes proper care of his skin and body and is very clean. He also prefers clean surroundings, even if it means cleaning up after others to get them that way. And bad smells? He would take the time to scrub every single inch of Viyanakerth with rose petals if that char smell didn’t come out with normal bathing. He can’t stand fish because of the smell, real or imagined, and will never eat it. He also has an aversion to eggs, due to living in close quarters with an unfortunate little white dragonet who smelled like rotten eggs for several weeks after Hatch Day.
A’myl likes girls who have cute looks and personality, though, frankly, he’s a bit of a prude. He’s not interested in flings of any sort, dragon-prompted or otherwise. Unfortunately Viyanakerth, not really understanding the concept of a mate in the first place, seems to think that he can help his rider find “the one” by letting nature take its course – more specifically, by letting a mating flight determine where the dice falls. When he “overhears” one of the more compelling greenflights, Viyanakerth will send his rider constant transmissions of the feelings of everyone involved. The little dragon means well, but these incidents usually end up resulting in a series of psychedelic migraines for the poor man. Whether it’s A’myl’s upbringing or just his (frankly a**l) nature, he’d rather wait it out in hopes of finding a sweet, adoring weyrmate and having lots of (planned) children together.
Positive Trait List Diligent, social, nurturing, team player Negative Trait List Clean freak, nagging, quick-tempered, prudish
History:
Arrimyl grew up in Fort Hold, born to Iamagyol and Terrila into a clannish family of Harpers and Healers. From early on, he displayed a predisposition toward order and tidiness. He might have made a good Healer, but he chose to follow his mother and closest-in-age elder brother Farinalgo in becoming a Harper, apprenticing at age ten. The violin and voice were his chosen instruments, and they suited him well.
As with most of his pursuits, Arrimyl practiced hard and became skilled at music in a technical sense, but was a little lost when it came to trying to express emotion. Notes were to be played or sung in order, at the notated length, never ad-libbed. He certainly didn’t dance during a recital like his brother did, either, though he sometimes deeply wanted to. What good was it to both look like a fool and spoil your proper singing posture?
At age fourteen, he was selected to be part of a special choral performance to celebrate the Hatching of the latest clutch at High Reaches Weyr, which was where his eldest brother Ay’ril, a bronzerider, was stationed. They arrived several days early, giving the Harpers time to learn about the Weyr, its residents and their lifestyle, as a sort of field trip. It was a fun and exciting experience, exploring the weyrbowl every day and watching all the goings-on. Most of the Harper students had never been so close to a dragon before.
Though he’ll steadfastly deny his involvement, Arrimyl was one of the Harper students who snuck onto the Hatching Grounds along with some Candidates one evening to get a closer look at the eggs while their golden mother was occupied elsewhere. There was one in particular that everyone was interested in – it was rumored that a large egg, probably with a brown or bronze growing inside, had a crack in it. The kids found there was indeed such an egg, with a hairline fissure from the top all the way to the bottom. One older Candidate said he’d heard one of the Wingleaders say it probably hadn’t been able to incubate properly because the necessary heat would seep out through the crack, and it would be taken between when the Hatch was over, as dud eggs always were at High Reaches. That seemed to remove any inhibitions they had, and suddenly several kids were touching the egg, Candidates and Harpers alike, telling it either out loud or with their minds how sorry they were for it and how they hoped it would make it. Arrimyl was one of those who spoke privately with his mind. Don’t listen to those naysayers. You’re strong, you can do it! …and he felt the being inside the shell pushing back, telling everyone not to worry -- it would be fine, and it was so happy that they had noticed and were concerned about it!
On Hatching Day, Arrimyl was in the werybowl, demonstrating to some weyrbrats how to carve a simple pipe, when the dragons’ humming began to rumble throughout High Reaches. Everyone made their way toward the sands, except Arrimyl. He stashed his carving knife in his pocket and, true to form, stayed behind to clean up the mess they’d made. He was still working when a shadow loomed over the him from behind. A warm snort ruffled the boy’s hair and he turned to find himself face to nostrils with what had to be the biggest blue there ever was.
It would be a bald-faced lie to say he wasn’t frightened. In fact, he was frozen stiff as the dragon sniffed at him, nearly knocking him over with no effort whatsoever. The blue’s eyes whirled with ever-darkening shades of orange that were not at all encouraging. There was no one around to rescue the boy by then; they were all hurrying to get in place for the Hatching. He opened his mouth – whether to speak or scream, he really didn’t know – but before anything could come out, the dragon snorted again, right in his face.
You. Shut up. A huge paw descended with a decisive thump that shook the earth beneath Arrimyl’s feet. The dragon’s treetrunk of a leg seemed to fill the boy’s vision, bending in slow-motion until he could almost have reached up and touched the thick blue shoulder. Up. Now. Before I change my mind.
Arrimyl was in such a daze that he could never remember how it happened afterward, but somehow he ended up perched precariously on one of the blue’s neck ridges, holding on for dear life as the dragon bolted in huge bounds, using flaps of his tattered wings to increase his already tremendous strides to get to the Hatching Grounds. Then, with a backward glance of distaste at the boy, the blue rolled his shoulder and dumped him in a heap at the edge of the sands. Arrimyl started to get up, but before he could get his feet properly under him, he received a shove from the dragon’s paw that sent him reeling towards the group of people further in… the ones all in white robes.
His sudden appearance caused a bit of a stir, both amid the Candidates and in the stands audience, but no one made a move to expel him. A couple of dragonriders watching from the sidelines seemed to have witnessed the unusual delivery. With an amused, “Cutting it rather close, aren’t we, Krahsujunth?” a stocky woman waved Arrimyl further onto the sands where the gold was guarding her clutch. He was still a bit shocked and didn’t even realize what was happening until he saw that the huge eggs were moving and cracking.
He’d just been Searched.
And just as suddenly as he’d been Searched, his focus returned. He knew very little about Hatchings, but common sense dictated that sharp appendages were to be avoided. Arrimyl watched several dragonets hatch and bond with Candidates, amazed at the emotional response of their human partners at the moment of Impression.
He suddenly recalled the cracked egg, and discovered that it had at some point been rolled off to one side, as if it had been dismissed. From then on, he kept glancing at it, wondering if the dragonet inside was still alive. Did it move a little, just then? No, it was probably his imagination. The heat distortion from the hot sand could certainly explain it. Then… no, it did move. He was sure of it. Arrimyl side-stepped his way across the sand, trying to get closer without drawing any undue attention. He really wasn’t sure if anyone was allowed to go near an egg that, as far as he could tell, had been rejected. As he neared the egg, he saw that the crack at one end had been enlarged. And it was definitely moving. Just barely.
Suddenly, the egg shook once, hard, a desperate but heavily-muffled shriek coming from within. Arrimyl glanced around at the other Candidates for some kind of confirmation, but they were all, for the moment, fixed upon the hatchlings who had already made their appearances. Was it permitted to assist a hatchling in trouble? He didn’t know. It seemed no one else had even noticed.
He was sweating now, frightened by both of his options. Remain unnoticed and unharmed, and let the dragonet die in its shell? Or help it and risk danger and punishment, and after all of that, possibly watching it Impress someone else? Feeling the need to hide, he jammed his hands into his pockets, and yelped as he cut his finger on the carving knife he’d forgotten was there. The boy lifted his hand to his face and stared at the trickling blood… and made his decision. He took a few slow steps toward the egg, then burst into an all-out sprint.
Where they had been quiet before, now those riders were shouting at him as he dropped to his knees and bashed the egg’s shell with his knife. Suddenly a girl was beside him, grabbing at the shell he’d loosened. He couldn’t break off his next swing in time, and accidentally grazed her hand with the blade. To her credit, she barely reacted other than to give him a significant look. This wasn’t a competition. This was saving a life.
Together, they broke several large shards away and passed the knife back and forth to cut through membranes. All the while, deep, distressed sounds were coming from the golden queen and her bronze mate, their wings spreading overhead in postures of alarm. Whether they were upset or trying to encourage their efforts to help the stuck dragonet, Arrimyl didn’t know, and barely even noticed.
When they’d broken enough of the shell away to let light in, Arrimyl was shocked at what he saw inside. Two tiny dragonets, each barely any larger than a house feline, looked back at the boy and girl who had torn open their egg. One dragonet was mostly free, but the other, slightly smaller, was cemented to the side of the much-too-large shell by yolk and albumen that had dried around it. The trapped hatchling struggled against its sticky prison, stretching its neck towards Arrimyl. And then its eyes flashed with dazzling pulses of color.
I knew you would come for me! The voice thrummed in Arrimyl’s head like the music of a violin, imbued with layers of yearning, admiration, and adoration. It was irresistible. Incredible. Beyond hearing the warnings and exclamations of his observers, Arrimyl carefully cut through the viscous chunks and strings of sludge to break his dragon free, while the girl did the same for the other. Finally, the smaller dragonet was loosed and lay in Arrimyl’s arms, utterly exhausted and still caked with viscid egg innards. Ever so gently, the boy cradled his bonded… his Viyanakerth.
A white dragon.
Arrimyl, now known as A’myl, soon discovered that High Reaches Weyr was not the fun and friendly place it had seemed before he’d made the apparently heinous mistake of Impressing Viyanakerth. It was lucky that they had Amna, the girl who helped hatch and Impressed Viyanakerth’s twin, Zunulth. A’myl knew very little about dragons and High Reaches’ traditions, and few were willing to to help a woefully inexperienced, woefully young boy with a sickly white dragon. It was Amna’s mentoring and companionship that got them up to speed and kept them going. A’myl’s elder brother Ay’ril and some other concerned dragonriders were able to shield them from some of the prejudice, but it was still quite clear that Viyanakerth and Zunulth were considered aberrations. Their little “family” was the butt of many cruel pranks and often openly ridiculed.
Viyanakerth was by far the weaker twin, and the general opinion was that he wouldn’t survive to adulthood. There were a few close calls in his early days, and he had difficulty gaining weight from the start. Even with a special feeding regimen, he remained very lean for turns after he reached his full size. A’myl and Viyanakerth failed weyrling training once due to the white’s trifling size and low stamina – he couldn’t even carry his rider until their tenth month – and graduated on their second attempt.
Amna and Zunulth remained at High Reaches to support their “brothers” until they graduated, but graduation day barely passed before the two whiteriders fled the Weyr and its persecution. A’myl and Viyanakerth returned to Harper Hall so that the boy could complete his studies, while Amna and Zunulth went their own way. A’myl was no prodigy, but he was determined to catch up to where he left off, working harder than most of his fellow apprentices. He managed to make up for the time lost in weyrling training and (by the skin of his teeth) walked the tables on time at age twenty-one. In succeeding at this, A’myl, older and far wiser than he was at fourteen, proved to himself that he was perfectly capable of reaching his goals, regardless of what ignorant, legalistic folks said. From there, he accepted a post as one of High Reaches’ Journeyman weyrharpers.
If asked why they chose to return to a place where they were obviously unwelcome, A’myl will say that he never does anything halfway, including his duty to the place where Viyanakerth was clutched. If he’s going to be a Harper, and if he’s going to be a Dragonrider, he’s going to do it right. He and Viyanakerth have trained relentlessly in order to meet the demands expected of a green wingrider pair. They’ve managed to hold their own, even with the advent of Thread’s return. Even so, Viyanakerth is often referred to as a “rotten egg” or a “goldfart,” and A’myl as “that fool Harper with the overgrown firelizard.” On good days, that is.
Life at High Reaches has been anything but easy for them, but they have a strong support network in A’myl’s family and some fellow riders who aren’t convinced that size and hide color necessarily determine one’s worthiness. At present, his bronzerider brother Ay’ril is also stationed at High Reaches and his brother Farinalgo has recently joined them as a Candidate.
DRAGON Name: Viyanakerth (aka “Vee”) Age: 11 Color: White Size: 13’ Physical Description: For all the ridicule he suffers for his size and color, Viyanakerth is often considered extremely beautiful – even by some of the same who claim to despise him. He is fine-boned and lissome, every petite feature formed and set just so. His hide appears to be pure white, with a faint opalescent sheen. This iridescence makes him glow like an otherworldly being on an overcast day, revealing glimmers all of the dragoncolors in his hide, much in the way that a pearl shows its true colors in the right light.
He may seem fragile, as if made of glass, though he is stronger than he looks. It would be difficult to find a dragon as mobile in the air as he is, unless it be his twin, Zunulth. Like an insect flying from flower to flower, he darts from dragon to dragon during Threadfall, weaving tightly around them and zipping through tiny spaces with such precision timing and extravagant maneuvering that he often draws a crowd. It doesn’t last long, with the piffling stamina of a decidedly diminutive dragon, but it is always quite a show.
Personality: Viyanakerth has proven to be both very like and unlike A’myl. Where A’myl has certain standards that he needs to be met in his relationships, Viyanakerth accepts everyone as a whole, and sometimes even conforms himself for their comfort. For example, similar to the way riders shorten their names, Viyanakerth recognizes that his name is a bit of a mouthful, and insists that he be referred to as “Vee.” He also tends to respond to any variant of his name and various nicknames, and doesn’t mind when he is mistaken for a female dragon.
Though this is in line with his nature, Vee is also very aware that any sort of self-seeking or defiant behavior will cause punishment, in some form, to descend upon him, as nothing he or his rider says or does is overlooked at High Reaches. It leads to him often being unwilling to stand up for himself, and he has (very grudgingly) learned not to defend A’myl either, in order to avoid exacerbating an already bad situation. He will often cling to his rider for the security and moral support of both of them, even coming into indoor places where most other adult dragons can’t fit or aren’t allowed. He actually manages to get away with the latter quite often, as he is commonly thought of as something more of a pet, and less of a dragon.
Like his rider, Vee has a tenderness toward young and small creatures, be it dragon, human, or other animal. The relative innocence of the young toward negative things in general is appealing to him, and he encourages them to be good to others and to believe in themselves. He enjoys the company of firelizards in particular and tends to “collect” them. He is also musical, to a certain degree. He likes music of all kinds and will often hum along, or help out with lyrics.
A'myl's Relationships: Amna (ShinosBee) - A close friend, Impressed Vee's twin. Spent two turns supporting each other at HR before going separate ways. Stationed at Western now. Ay'ril - eldest brother, another rider at HR. Very supportive. Farinalgo - A brother one turn older, a little annoying but supportive. Is now a Candidate at High Reaches.
Vee's Relationships: White Zunulth (ShinosBee) - Hatched from the same egg, best bud, lightningtwin powers activate!
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Posted: Sun Sep 17, 2017 1:28 pm
Name: Silviu Age: 16 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Ggghhhh??? Craft: Harper Rank: Apprentice Location: High Reaches Weyr Physical Description: Silviu is a gangly lad, having recently grown into the less-awkward stage between "knobby" and "slender." At five-eight, he is already giving every indication that he'll be as tall as his father and brother. He is much broader of shoulder than either of them were at his age, however. His head is covered by a thick blanket of fluffy auburn hair and his face is still very boyish, smooth-skinned with small features save for his relatively large hazel eyes. Though his chin is trivial and tapered almost to a point, the well-defined line of his jaw seems to promise some strength. He has a very mobile and expressive face, but most commonly wears a gentle smile or a dazed look. On very rare occasions, he may flash a toothy grin not unlike those of his saucy elder brother.
Personality: A quiet, polite, and dreadfully clumsy youngling. Most people wouldn't suspect him of being much more than that. Even his elder brother Lucayr would likely be surprised to learn that Silviu has ardent intentions to Impress a dragon with the express intent to become a brave, fighting rider. He is easily discouraged and desires to become confident and strong enough to protect Lucayr in return for all the ways he took care of Silviu.
Silviu is a bit of an introvert, only able to come fully out of his shell with the direct instigation of his big brother. He can and will make friends, but he's never quite himself and it is usually a slow process and based on how "nice" the other person is when he fumbles. He's a social klutz for sure, but he has a kind heart and will willingly do more than his part if he thinks it would bring a smile to someone's face – hopefully directed at him, for he is greatly edified by others' approval. He is easily taken in by "nice" people, and can be taken advantage of or bullied without much effort. This kind of betrayal will emotionally lay him out for days. (A word of warning to the wise: Bullies will receive no retaliation from Silviu himself, but Faranth help them if his brother finds out.)
Clearly he is a meek and passive boy, but as when he discovered his place to "belong" at Harper Hall as a singer, if Silviu finds a niche that he can fill with any amount confidence, he will become abnormally competent in comparison to his usual standards. His passiveness can also be temporarily lifted by anger, or a healthy dose of fear brought on by actual danger as opposed to uncomfortable social situations. In the case of the latter, Silviu becomes curiously rational and assertive, as if something in his mental makeup just clicked into place. He can take in his surroundings and think fast enough to act quickly and capably under pressure. When he is angered, however, it is difficult to predict how Silviu will react. On occasion, he will respond similarly as he would to danger, but it is common for him to answer with childish comebacks, fist-swings, or a hasty retreat in panic or humiliation.
Anger is something that Silviu does not like to experience; in fact, it rather scares him. He fears losing control over what parts of himself he can control. He will try to repress as much negative emotion as possible to avoid that. It works for fairly long periods of time, but there always comes a point where he can take no more. He is very conscious of gossip, particularly such which regards events surrounding his harper apprenticeship. He is also sensitive about his choice to avoid eating red meat, and to mockery, especially if it refrences his undextrous hands. Or, to really tweak a nerve, one could simply insult Silviu's brother, Lucayr.
His lack of dexterity makes it difficult for Silviu to participate in many of the hobbies that he might have enjoyed, most notably playing an instrument. He tends to limit himself to athletic pastimes, mainly those that are aerobic in nature, such as running. As a result, he has higher than average stamina but low strength, as evidenced by his lanky figure. He also spends many minutes each day just watching other people or nature in a meditation of sorts.
His choice of dress is always a plain one – work, rest or gather, he'll go for solid, drab earthtones or white with no embroidery or accessories of any kind, save the cloth belt that holds up his trousers. (This won't last long at High Reaches, if Lucayr has anything to say about it.)
He regularly has stress-related nightmares, but doesn't make a big deal over them as they quickly fade. He also dislikes red meat and leather clothing or items due to overexposure back home at Igen Hold. Red meat makes him queasy if he does happen to eat it.
Positive Trait List Gentle, courteous, hopeful, niche-capable, loyal Negative Trait List Introverted, insecure, anxious, bumbling skinny oaf
History: Silviu was the second son of a tanner and his wife from Igen Hold. He was very different from Lucayr, his elder by twelve turns. Where Lucayr was flamboyant and sure of himself, Silviu was quiet and rarely put himself into a spotlight of any kind for fear of messing up. He was often encouraged by his brother, who would do kind things like write and sing amusing little ditties for him. Sometimes they would sing together, and their familial voices blended well. Silviu settled early on into a comfort zone of dependence on his brother for approval... so it should have been expected that when Lucayr left to apprentice at Harper Hall, things started to fall apart for him.
Now without his eldest son to take on the family craft of leather-working and preparation, Silviu's father appointed him to the task, refusing the boy's plea to also be sent along to Harper Hall. Silviu hated leather-working. Not only was he forced to handle raw skins and other bits of animal carcasses against the will of his queasy stomach and recurring nightmares (he outright refused to assist in putting the beasts down and skinning them), but he was also clumsy and destroyed many valuable hides by overstretching them or getting a nervous twitch in his knife hand at an inopportune moment. His father saw little use in trying to teach him how to do something even more intricate, such as detailing or assembling numerous pieces into finished products. Silviu's given tasks became much like that of a drudge's, mainly washing hides and tools and working with his mother in the kitchens. He was little use there, as well, since every time he felt like someone was watching him he would tense up and drop dishes, crash into things, or say something dreadfully embarrassing. His mother would try to comfort him, but she never knew the right thing to do or say, as Lucayr had.
By some stroke of luck, a fosterling from another hold eventually came to Igen and became apprenticed to his father. While it wasn't as fulfilling as having one of his own sons learn from him, the man was satisfied enough to permit Silviu to finally go to Harper Hall.
Upon his jubilant arrival to the place he thought would be his salvation, Silviu learned that boys were assigned to "sections" and didn't necessarily get to be in the same one their friends – or brothers – were in. He didn't even get to see Lucayr until he had been there a whole week, for his elder brother had been away on a trip with one of the Journeymen. The brothers barely had a few days of sporadic interaction before Lucayr had to leave again. To make things worse, Silviu was completely unable to play an instrument due to his clumsy hands. His only saving grace was his voice.
Silviu was a near-perfect treble, when he could be coaxed into singing. It began as one-on-one lessons with Lucayr as they had done in their childhood. Later he became comfortable enough to sing with a Master, and after enough praise was given, with a group of other students. Then, unexpectedly, the boy understood that he "belonged" and began to excel. He could sing well in front of anyone, even solo, and even when Lucayr was miles and miles away.
Then Lucayr walked the tables and received his Journeyman's knot. He was promptly assigned to an unaffiliated Weyrhold and said his reluctant goodbyes to Silviu. The younger boy's confidence had grown much in the short time they'd been reunited, and he was able to continue his voice studies without needing Lucayr as a crutch to lean on. Instead, the two boys would exchange letters often, bolstering each other with good news from afar.
Six turns later, Silviu has suddenly been Searched and arrived at High Reaches Weyr without notice of any kind to Lucayr, ready to Stand as a Candidate at the next hatching. It is not clear why he has made this choice – it may be that he has regressed and followed after his brother again.
(Explanation under spoiler tag, in case anyone is reading who prefers to learn through RP.)
As you've likely guessed, Silviu has suffered the obvious downfall of most boy-sopranos. He's recently hit puberty and his voice is not cooperating. He is literally limited to a strange sort of croak when he tries to sing, and it is not expected that he will ever sound good again, even when his voice has matured. Without the ability to play an instrument or write neatly enough to copy, he really has nothing left at Harper Hall and has all but abandoned his apprenticeship. However, he isn't going to let that out right away for fear of disappointing Lucayr. Silviu has hopes that if he Impresses his dragon will be the key to his becoming as confident and effective as his brother, and giving him the ability to take care of Lucayr for once, instead of the other way around.
Other:
Blue Aramath Written by Masterharper Colored by Andranis
Origin of Name: Aramath's name stems from the name, Adam. In Mary Shelley's book, The Modern Prometheus, the nameless creature says "I ought to by thy Adam." Thus, Aramath is named after the Maori translation of Adam, Arama.
Inspiration: Aramath is based on the Frankenstein Monster found in Mary Shelley's "The Modern Prometheus" -- also known as Frankenstein. The monster is nameless throughout the book, and inhabits traits of both a protagonist and antagonist. Unlike modern portrayals, the monster tended to have great intelligence, and sensitive nature... but was hideous in appearance, and eventually became embittered by constant rejection.
In modern portrayals he is often blue or green in skin coloration, and is either mute, or forced only to speak in guttural grunts and single words. Throughout he seems to have the power of superhuman strength, speed, and intelligence. He can withstand extreme temperatures, exposure, and starvation.
He doesn't have too many weaknesses, though in the book he is thought to have incinerated himself. He seems to have an aversion to fire and his reflection.
Personality: All you need is love, and Aramath is the sort of blue who believes it. Out of all the dragons in the clutch, Aramath is perhaps the most sincere and sensitive dragon of them all. At first glance, he is a sweetheart who wants nothing more than to love and be loved. His rider had better be all right with snuggles, because Aramath will be incredibly touchy-feely. He will be as close to his rider as he can get, and if his rider is unavailable, will happily seek out one of his clutchsibs, or another dragon, to try to cozy on up to. Physical touch is something this dragon craves, and he will not hesitate to offer headbutts and nudges to every one he meets.
Aramath is a very eloquent dragon. He is intelligent, but unlike Sarcoth, who tends to look down his nose at others, Aramath is much more tender. He does not judge those who are not as clever or well spoken as him; he will not sneer if one of his wingmates needs extra help or guidance, and he will be patient and kind so long as others are patient and kind to him. This blue is sensitive to his needs, his riders needs, and his clutchsibs and wingmates. If they are in pain, he will be distressed on their behalf; if they are angry, he will get angry! If rejected, or spurned, Aramath will be utterly devastated...
And his hearts are known to easily break.
This is when his ugly side tends to appear. Aramath's sensitivity can turn him a bit too emotional. In times of high stress, he can easily panic or worry. In times of grief, Aramath takes it exceptionally hard. His emotions can be difficult to reason with, and logic doesn't always work when he's one of his strong moods; but it's his anger, and is temper, that causes other dragons to beware!
Aramath's most foul of moods is his anger, and when he gets mad, he sees red fast. Raging isn't enough for the dragon, no -- when he is upset, or hurt, he will become violent. His tantrum will cause him to lash out, to snap, snarl, and bite; while he would never hurt his rider, other dragons are fair game to his need to vent. Usually, they are those who caused his rage, or those close to the source. This will likely cause his rider and himself trouble as he grows; a snap from a baby dragon might hurt, but a smack from a full adults tail or wing could seriously damage or hurt someone.
Of course, as soon as the object of his ire is finally wounded, or his anger finally is subdued, Aramath will feel nothing but regret. It will be up to his rider to try to get Aramath over this temper and need for vengeance before they get too big, and before someone really gets hurt.
Adult Size: 33' Physical Attributes: Aramath is big blue. He is large, hulking, and ultimately a beast. While blues are known for their speed and dexterity, Aramath is built more like a brick. He may not be as fast as his peers, but he can take a hit, and he has great stamina. Unfortunately, his violence can cause him to do a bit of damage when he manages to take it out on something, or someone.
Additional Notes: Aramath has an aversion to fire, which is going to make flaming tricky. His rider will need to work with him so he learns to properly flame. Once in the air, he'll also be an anxious Threadfighter, if only because of all the flaming, burns, and ash surrounding him. Additionally, Aramath will love to chase during flights. He is a lover at heart, and desperately wants a mate his own. Once he finds a true love, he will have eyes for no one but them, and will chase none other.
He is closest to Therianth, Sarcoth, and Strigonth, but has a deep fondness for Loreleth.
Why Me? There was no one for Aramath but Silviu. First and foremost, he has all the love in the world to give the clumsy boy. He will be there to support him in all of his trials and tribulations -- any anxiety or insecurity Silviu might feel will be instantly overwhelmed by love, and endless support and encouragement from Aramath. There is nothing to fear in this world, not with the blue by his side. He needs no other approval in the world but Aramath's, and this blue is nothing but enraptured by his rider.
No longer will Silviu need to fear being taken advantage of, for Aramath will ensure that his rider is safe, secure, and protected. Should anyone dare to bull his rider, they will find one massive blue snarling behind him!
This is, unfortunately, where Aramath need's Silviu's help. This blue can be quite sensitive and emotional, and while he might come to lean on his rider for comfort, it is his temper that is his biggest weakness. While Silviu is afraid of losing control of his temper, he'll now have to help his dragon in dealing with his! Aramath is likely to become aggressive and violent when his temper is invoked -- if Silviu doesn't come down firmly, or learn to ease his dragon out of it, then they might both be in trouble as he gets bigger. Aramath would never, ever, hurt his rider -- he wouldn't even bristle at him -- but one ill-timed snap or one botched slash at someone else very well could. This may not be easy for either rider or dragon, but their tempers are something the two will need to conquer together.
Aramath is poised to be a great defender of Pern -- but like his rider, he'll need a little polishing before he really shines.
Posted: Sun Sep 17, 2017 1:31 pm
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3573.06 [SRP] RP Title – Short description
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Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2017 4:26 am
Name: Ay’ril Age: 30 Sex: Male Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Weyr: High Reaches Weyr Rider Rank: Wingsecond (Hurricane Wing) Previous Rank/Craft: Journeyman Dragonhealer Physical Description: At six feet tall, Ay’ril is of average height and of slender build. His dark auburn hair is cut fairly short, brushing the tips of his ears and hugging his neck in the back. He is light-skinned, but not pale, with hazel eyes and a slightly-snubbed nose.
Personality: Ay’ril is a good man, the type to peace-keep and encourage those in his circle to be the best they can be. He was always a nice fellow, but he could have easily turned out bitter and resentful, if he’d has the proper mindset for it. For turns he watched his younger brother A’myl, a whiterider, suffer all sorts of provocation and torment for his dragon’s color, and even got a little overflow himself, even though he was a bronzerider. Out of a sense of honor, he chose to keep his head above water, and tried his best to buoy his brother up, as well. They both worked hard and were careful of their own actions, and are both now in good standing as riders at High Reaches, though the color battle has, of course, never ended.
That doesn’t mean all is forgiven, however. He remembers each of those who caused harm to his little brother, and most certainly will not do them any favors. He also holds a lot of ire for one of his own brothers, for reasons he never speaks of.
Ay’ril is very careful around High Reaches natives, or those he knows are colorist or otherwise extremely traditional. He’s actually quite in line with the whole color ranking system, understanding that each color has a clear Threadfighting role for the good of all, but not with the way some look down their noses at the chromatics. Before he’d met his dear bronze Yffengeth, he’d been quite set on Impressing a blue, himself. For the life of him, he couldn’t see why any of them deserved to be picked on or thought to be “lesser” somehow. It’s led him to be acutely mindful of his expression and words when in mixed company.
When at ease, and occasionally as a defensive mechanism, Ay’ril is known to joke around make light of unpleasant situations to try and lift the mood. He used to be quite the prankster, until his whiterider brother became the butt of many humiliating and sometimes dangerous pranks. Now he just doesn’t do it, out of a concern that he might accidentally case harm to someone.
Three Positive Traits: Peacekeeper, playful, honorable, steadfast Three Negative Traits: Grudging, somewhat resigned, mistrustful
History:
Ayolfaril was born at Fort Hold to the Healers Iamagyol and Farnilene. His mother passed away in childbirth when he was five. The newborn boy, Farinalgo, was perfectly healthy. Iamagyol remarried some six or seven months later. Ayolfaril blamed his baby brother for their mother’s death and, by extension, for their father’s betrayal in remarrying so quickly. He was so young then that he couldn’t have understood that his father had the children’s best interests in mind when he brought their new mother, Terrila, into the home. There were three more children born of that union, the first of them being Ayolfaril’s half-brother Arrimyl, who came less than a turn after Iamagyol’s remarriage. Oddly enough, he had no qualms about loving those half-siblings, but he never had much of a relationship with Farinalgo, whom he preferred to spurn at every opportunity. Avoidance was far easier than dealing with his own feelings and attempting actual communication.
When he was old enough, he apprenticed as a Healer, doing general studies at first, then beasthealing. He was Searched by riders from High Reaches Weyr at fifteen, and was absolutely besotted with the blue dragon that noticed him, and with dragons in general, from that moment on. At his first chance after landing at the Weyr, he went to work with the resident Dragonhealers, wanting to learn everything they knew. During his time at High Reaches, he completed his studies and walked the tables to Journeyman at twenty-two, and still practices dragonhealing in the present.
Though very serious about his healing craft, he was still a Candidate, and at age seventeen, he found himself Standing in the middle of a bloody hatch. A girl was killed and a boy was nearly shredded to bits by a blue dragonet. There was a terrible moment when Ayolfaril thought that he was going to be the blue’s next victim, but it was another hatchling who fell upon him. The noise that went up from the stands made it clear that most onlookers expected more blood. There was a little, a few scratches and shallow punctures from tiny dragon claws, nothing too exciting. The dragonet who knocked him down had only tripped over its own gangly newborn legs in its hurry to reach the auburn-haired boy who felt just right. Face to face in a tangled pile in the sand, bronze Yffengeth thanked Ayolfaril for breaking his fall, and Impression was made.
Two turns after that, Ay’ril and Yffengeth had become real Wingriders and part of the Trespassers Wing. They were both dedicated to their duties and it seemed they were on a direct course for a promotion somewhere down the line. Then Ay’ril’s young brother Arrimyl came to High Reaches, where he was unexpectedly Searched and Impressed a white dragon. From that day, Ay’ril’s life suddenly seemed to be all about protecting his brother instead of doing his duties as a bronzerider. He suffered some persecution of his own, by proximity to the white dragon and because of his apparent slacking off. He was not very popular, even among his fellow wingmembers.
Though Arrimyl and white Viyanakerth left High Reaches as soon as they graduated Weyrling training, the stigma remained. Ay’ril and Yffengeth returned to work at their previous high standards, but got little notice for it. Any Wingleaders who might have had an eye on them had since moved on to… untainted prospects. And yet they persevered with a good attitude, recognizing that their plight was nothing when compared to the ill-treatment that others had dealt with at High Reaches.
And their steadfastness paid off. When Thread began to fall over the planet, new riders poured into the Weyr by the dozens and were drafted into the wings. These were people who often didn’t know Ay’ril and Yffengeth’s history and who weren’t always so keen to follow the old traditions that were pounded into the weyrfolk, so the Trespassers Wing was suddenly home to quite a few rider pairs who got along well with the two. One of these new draftees was A’dras, rider of bronze Gareth.
Ay’ril gladly welcomed this new wingmember without treating him like an outsider. He did recognize the man from his previous visits to the Weyr, but otherwise knew little of him, except that the bronzerider was a hellion where the honor of his son Caderyn was concerned. It wasn’t long before they connected over their after-drill cups and talk of honor and family. Ay’ril had only recently become a father, and was still in awe over the tiny babe named Ayona. He confessed he’d do anything to protect her – from Thread, from falling down and hurting herself, or from being sad, anything and everything, all with equal fervor. The two men found that they understood each other, and formed a fast friendship. Ay’ril came to think of A’dras as both an elder brother and a bit of a second father – a father who rode a dragon, that is. His blood father never quite understood the politics and lifestyle of a dragonrider at High Reaches, so it wasn’t always easy to find a trustworthy and understanding ear.
They were comrades in arms for a turn before A’dras was promoted and received the honor of leading his own wing, the Hurricane Wing. Naturally, Ay’ril put in a request for transfer to that wing to remain with his friend and support him, never expecting that he might, perhaps, be considered for a promotion after all those turns of being overlooked.
Lo and behold, upon his transfer he was presented with a Wingsecond’s knot. The promotion was received with some astonishment, quickly followed by a rush of joy and pure satisfaction. Life was far from perfect, but it sure was looking good.
Physical Description: Yffengeth has been known to cause a lot of sore necks. The fact is, he’s quite tall, especially with his usual, somewhat over-alert stance with head held aloft. In that position, his head will easily be twenty-five feet in the air, so lot of craning is often necessary for a human or small dragon in order to carry on a conversation with him. His hind legs are powerful but oddly bowlegged, causing his back end to swing quite a bit when he walks. The accepted explanation for it is that he may have been a little too large for his egg, causing his hind legs to be forced into an unusual position during the last stages of incubation.
(Color/marking info to be added when art is obtained!)
Personality: Yffengeth is a very big dragon and a little oafish on the ground, as if he isn’t really aware of his size. He’s always stubbing his toes or bruising his tail on something, if not actually knocking things or people over. Things just seem to jump into him on the ground! When flying, however, this dragon is a steady, strong foundation for the higher-flying ranks to build upon. He is a bronze through and through when it comes to duty. He can be counted on to not deviate from formation for anything less than necessity, and to carry out any task put to him by a ranking bronze, so long as his rider consents.
When off-duty, he is a sweet dragon, with an insatiable need for affection. He’s a lover of hugs and pats from all who will give them, and has been known to “steal” children from the creche now and then. And love from his fellow dragons is a must! He is always happiest when in physical contact with another living being, even if it’s just touching shoulders.
He often amuses Ay’ril by acting overdramatic when he stubs his toe or gets snubbed by another dragon. He was much more serious about the dramatics when he was a hatchling, but these days, those scenes are just both man and dragon enjoying their silly little stageplays together.
When it comes time to fly the lady dragons, Yffengeth is quite happy to oblige. He is most attracted to the larger gold ladies, but quite a few of the bigger greens will turn his head, even outside of flights. If he ever chooses a lifemate, her color likely will not be part of the decision.
Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2017 4:29 am
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3573.06 [SRP] RP Title – Short description
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Posted: Fri Oct 06, 2017 1:41 pm
Name: Joshala (Jaw-SHA-la, goes by “Joshie”) Age: 21 Sex: Female Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual (and very reserved) Craft: N/A Rank: N/A Location: Western Weyr Physical Description: Joshala has a light-skinned, heart-shaped face framed by wavy black hair cut in a medium bob. Her best features are her arched eyebrows and proud, straight nose. She thinks her worst feature is her eyes, which are a shade of light grayish-green that she’s not fond of. She is 5’8” and fit, but has an ample soft layer over the muscle, giving her a very feminine, almost round look.
Personality: Joshala doesn’t get angry easily and usually speaks with a soft voice. Her quiet demeanor can come off as shy, but once someone has spoken with her a few times and shown themselves to be earnest, she’ll open right up like a sun-warmed flower. But don’t expect her to respond to flirting or even expressions of platonic love with any more than a raised eyebrow. Any physical or spoken affection for a loved one is going to be a private matter. All public attempts at hugging will result in a not-so-gentle shove, regardless of who tries it.
She hates asking for favors. Some of it is pride, and some of it is mistrust. In her former life in the mines, questions were often rebuffed, and requests for help resulted in mockery or even punishment if she went to the wrong person. Anything she can do herself, she’ll do, even if it’s difficult or time-consuming. She is smart and will resort to self-study, training or cheap workarounds to get it done.
She is normally very calm but has developed an itch for the thrill of being frightened. She doesn’t indulge while actually on the job, but occasionally she’ll give in to the urge to do something dumb, just to enjoy the insane, heart-pumping laughter.
Joshala has a pet canine who is almost always within sight of her. She plinks away at an old, dented gitar when she’s bored, and can play fairly complicated tunes but has had no formal training. She doesn’t like the color green, and has a half-joking theory that that is why she hasn’t Impressed yet.
Positive Trait List Independent, calm, intelligent Negative Trait List Reserved, thrill-seeker, mistrustful
History:
Joshala was an only child, born at a small cothold within Ruatha’s jurisdiction. Her parents were drudges who worked the fields in growing season and did whatever else needed done in the offseason, sometimes leaving the cothold for weeks at a time. They were always quite busy, so Joshala often had to entertain herself as a child. Her favorite pastimes were practicing with borrowed instruments or exploring and playing games with one of the resident canines. She taught them all sorts of fun tricks, such as “counting” with a paw or hopping about on their hind legs.
It seemed idyllic, until her father became addicted to gambling while helping with a caravan sent to Nabol to trade. In a very short time, he had accumulated such immense debt that those he owed took “pity” on him and gave him the “chance” to pay it off by working in the mines. He managed to save his own skin by offering up his daughter instead – without the knowledge or consent of his wife, of course. The “delivery” was carried out under cover of night by one of the dragonriders that worked in the mines, and the Ruathan cothold was left to believe that one of its young ones had been tragically lost to the wilds.
In the mines, Joshala discovered a new life much like that of those wilds her mother believed she’d been taken by: Kill, or be killed. Even children who were younger than her but who had been in the mines longer were often hardened and unkind... even treacherous. More than once, Joshala was accused and found guilty of trespasses she had nothing to do with.
The positive side of the experience was that Joshala’s figurative spine grew thick and strong, and her wits were honed. She learned to avoid trouble and became difficult to find when she didn’t want to be, carrying out her daily quotas at odd and varying hours and in the presence of as many witnesses as possible. And her looks, while not particularly exotic, were good enough to protect her from physical punishments that would scar her, as some of the other youths received. From snatches of conversation, she gathered that her taskmaster had a plan to make her work elsewhere when she was older. Somewhere on the surface. And she began to form her plan.
At age fourteen, the day she was waiting for finally came. Up into the sunlight she was taken, and in a chance incident involving a feline handler and an angry butcher stall owner, she made her escape, never even needing to make use of her grand plan. And if her task master hadn’t stepped in front of that stall when the handler’s striped beast pounced in hopes of a free meal (which it got – and a very fresh one, at that!), she likely would not have succeeded in escaping and would have become a very different person with a very different life.
She was on the streets for two turns, making good use of the self-preserving skills she’d learned in the mines, along with the welcome addition of a feral canine pup she’d raised and trained to ward off potential danger. That canine had its work cut out for it when one day, shortly after Joshala’s sixteenth nameday, a blue dragon pursued and cornered them. The canine (rather stupidly) attacked the dragon, only to be pinned under his foot while the dragon snarled (actually, it was only yawning) and stared at the girl.
Joshala’s main experience with dragons at this point was them as the allies and enforcers of the mine’s taskmasters. She refused to listen to anything the blue’s rider said (if he was searching for what she assumed he was after, he certainly wasn’t going to find it with her!), until the dragon himself spoke to her. No dragon had ever spoken to her before. In her mind, the blue could convey his feelings and intent in a way that humans couldn’t. She found that she… well, she trusted him. That was a word that hadn’t been in her vocabulary for some time.
Her next four turns as a Candidate were spent at Western Weyr, slowly adjusting to life among people who were generally good. She hadn’t been there long before she found her favorite place to work – the kitchen. The turns of leanness in the mines and on the streets of Nabol had made food something almost sacred to her. Another result of those times was that her body became so used to squeezing every drop of nutrition out of what little she ate that this sudden abundance was hard for it to handle. The girl who was so thin that she looked something like a dead tree bloomed with womanly curves almost overnight, it seemed. She never overate, but still ended up noticeably heavier than average for a girl her age and build. Instead of feeling self-conscious, however, Joshala is very happy to be comfortably on that side of the coin, now.
