Bronzerider Bios

[Spirithawk]

Name: P'rin

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Age: 18 Turns

Gender: male

Rank: Wing Rider

Physical Description: Per is a dark-skinned youth with blue-black hair that falls almost to his shoulders. He often pulls it back into a runner tail. Now that he is a rider, it is his one concession to vanity. His eyes are a pale blue that show up starkly against the dark golden brown skin of his face.

P'rin is very close to 6'0. He has a light build. He is agile and swift with lean muscles. His face is angular with strong cheekbones. He often looks serious and his high cheekbones give his face an even more intense look, but when he relaxes and smiles he can look charming. His smile is crooked, mostly to hide a small chip in one of his teeth from a childhood fall. He doesn't realize that it is unnoticable by now but he had forced himself into the habit after he chipped the tooth and now it is a natural gesture to smile crookedly. It makes his smile more rakish and he seldom smiles fully. Most of the time he doesn't have reason to. Small crows feet at the corner of his eyes are the most expressive part on his face. They show amusement even when he is not smiling.

Personality: Perin is a youth who's personality is a changeable as the weather. He is normally quiet, but if he has something to say he will say it. Strong willed and arrogant when he knows he is better, he often alienates those that don't know him. He has a smoldering dislike for Bitrans because one scoundrel had taken his sister's maidenhood and had left her pregnant. He swore to kill the man if he ever came into contact with him again. He distrusts all Bitrans because of that.

He seems serious but his eyes crinkle when he is amused by something and a faint smile upturns the corner of his lips. His humor is more quiet than ostentatious. He chuckles rather than laughs uproariously. He is not much of a ladie's man, but he will flirt with a pretty woman, respectfully. His respect for women was ingrained in him by his Master rather than his father, because his father was too busy to teach the boy anything.

He can be easy-going, and compassionate, but when angry, his quiet fury is more affective than any yelling or shouting. P'rin is steady, and not quick to anger, despite his arrogant twist.

History: He left home at age 7 to find his place in life. He was the middle child of ten children and not likely to get a share in the family holding. He was not very close to his siblings and because of the large number of children, he was not very close to any of his parents. He was closest to his sister, 8 years older than he was, because she was the one who had always been set to look after her. Shortly before he left home, her maidenhood was taken by a Bitran scoundrel who promised her marriage and pretty things. He left her pregnant, and their parents hurriedly married her off to a nearby holder before her pregnancy was apparent. She is fairly happy with her new husband, and now that P'rin is a rider, she is expecting her second child. His father rarely bothered to even look at the boy because he didn't see any promise in him, at least not in the Hold.

Perin left home early, without much remorse from his parents, and began wandering. None of the crafts really wanted to take him because he was too young. Then one day, he came upon a man messing with hides and strange smelling chemicals. He was fascinated and crept closer. After a while, the man began asking him to do small tasks for him and Perin was only glad to oblige. The man was a Master Tanner, and he took Perin on as an apprentice until he was 10 Turns old because the Hall didn't want to lose such a promising lad, but he was too young to begin studies in the Hall. He then found himself in the Tanning Hall for a few turns. He walked the tables to become a journeyman a few turns later and was sent to work with the man who had taken him in in the first place. Perin wound up working on the Southern Continent.

He obtained his mastery at 18 Turns, one of the youngest masters to date. The Hall was reluctant to award him his Mastery, but could find no fault with his work. He was Searched to Dark Moon. His mentor became more like his father as he grew up and his mentor was there to see him Impress because his father couldn't or wouldn't get away from the Hold. He became one of the youngest Master Tanners because he worked hard and was quick with his hands and mind. He also went to the Hall younger than most. His life changed when he impressed bronze Kilzanth from one of Kaith's clutches. He works with hides and leather now to benefit the weyr. He makes the straps for the dragon harnesses and any other work that comes his way.


Dragon: Bronze Kilzanth

Dragon Appearance: All over his hide, the bronze was tinged with red; the lightest hue was on his head and neck, and it became darker as one moved down his body, until the tip of his tail, which was black, as were the top edge of his wings. His black edged wings shimmered, not from the wetness, but from the speckles of gold and brown that flecked them. He is a well-muscled beast and slightly larger than average.

Dragon Personality: Kilzanth is far more arrogant than his rider. He often exasperates his rider and acts very much the typical egotistical bronze. He is a fine beast and he knows it. However, as much as he criticizes his rider, he would hurt anyone who tried to mess with his rider. He very seldom shows his sentimental side, but when he does, it is surprising and always genuine. He is very demanding and strong. He often chides his rider to make him be more outgoing and sometimes he meddles in his rider's business when he thinks his rider won't act on something.


Pets: Brown flitt Falarn

[Dragon]

Name: G'han

Age: 25 turns

Gender: Male

Rank:

Dragon: Bronze Gerenanth

Dragon Appearance:

Dragon Personality: To start, Gerenanth was a gawky, quirky bronze. From dragonet on until G'han transferred, the bronze was full of humor and found his favorite passtime arguing with or embarrassing G'han. However, when G'han transferred to Telgar, the bronze became much like the other bronzes at Telgar. Perhaps this was an attempt to fit in, but it stayed a permanent character trait. Gerenanth was now cocky, full of himself, and full of pride. Unfortunantly, the same habit of arguing with G'han stayed, except now it fit his new manner.

Appearance: G'han, himself, is about medium height. He stands at 5'11 and fills out rather well with muscle, due from constant training. G'han has black hair that use to be short and spikey but grew it out, so now it's rather thick and longer than it use to be. His eyes are a green color with small hints of blue.

Personality: Once troubled over the loss of his father, G'han seems to now be at peace with this.He also seems to have developed a sense of humor that one can only think was influenced by Akki, a very dear friend of his. Since leaving the weyr, G'han seems to have issues with any sort of commitment. Perhaps it's Telgar influence, but since Rhia there has been no other more permanent weyrmate and none outside of winning a flight. One thing that still shows the old G'han, is his commitment to being physically fit and continually keeping his combat skills up to par.

History: G'han's history is one of ups and downs. G'han started out as a kid in a small hold with a younger brother, a mother, and his father. He and his father were rather close and it was his father who taught him hand to hand combat. From a young age up until around his teens, he was trained by his father. Then one day as they were training, his father told him to stay behind and took off towards the small hold. G'han was stubborn and refused to listen, he was also concerned with what was going on. So not too long after, he followed after his father. However, he took considerably longer to get there. By the time he arrived, the hold lay in near ruin and his family was nowhere to be found. The only thing he found was his father's walking stick.

The survivors of the attack told G'han of his father's death, but didn't know what happened to the rest of his family. The attack had been by a group of bandits raiding the hold. In the aftermath, G'han and whoever was left, set to rebuild the hold. However, a few days after as they were still building, another group of bandits came. G'han and others fought off the bandits, with G'han using his fathers walking stick. With their success, the rebuilding continued.

Sometime after the rebuilding of the hold, G'han was sent to a nearby, bigger hold. It was there that he was found in a search for candidates and sent to Darkmoon. At Darkmoon, he impressed to bronze Gerenanth and made several close friends such as Akki, Rhia, and Christae to name a few. Infact, over time, Rhia and G'han grew closer and became weyrmates. Before G'han transferred to Telgar, they had two children together.

Pets: Blue Azure

[Carnage]

Name: R'al (Formely Rateomal.

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Rank: Bronzerider/Apprentice beastcrafter

Dragon: Yanmeth

Dragon Appearance: A bright bronze, he has shadows of darker bronze across his back and wings, not quite stripes but enough difference to give him an almost rippled appearance. About the right size for his age and colour, but rather compact and almost chunky looking. Wouldn't be a winner of any dragon beauty contests, but he's not as badly put together as some dragons he knows

Dragon Personality: A very shy bronze. He likes nothing more than to sit on the sidelines and watch as the world passes him by. He likes to sit with the other dragons but never really gets involved. His entire personality changes when it comes to flights though and he becomes one of the biggest braggarts around. Surprisingly enough he is yet to win one. It seems his bragging takes away from his concentration somewhat... He doesn't talk to other people apart from his rider unless it's urgent

Appearance: 5 foot 6 and weighs around 11 stones. He isn't fat though, more muscled due to dealing with beasts at his hold. He has grey/brown eyes and brown hair. Pale skin coupled with heavy freckles give him a more tanned appearance. He has no scars but does have an odd bend to the bones of his right hand where he broke several bones that, due to the placing of them, couldn't be set. They healed well enough and he has full use of his hand, just it bends in from the side, making his hand look bigger from the top than the other.

Personality: A cheerful and friendly boy. Talkative to the point of being a gossip, which has been known to cost him a few friendships. Nothing malicious about him, but in the past he just couldn't control his tongue. Thankfully as he grew he learned that some things need kept quiet. He is always willing to help, and because of his more muscular physique is often to be found doing heavier chores. He is quite the womanizer though, even at his age, well, he TRIES to be one, hasn't quite managed it yet.

History: Born at an outlying Hold to Southern hold, Rateomal was the first child of Raterinem, 6th of her new husband Lomerin. The relationship his father and mother had was stormy, she had been made to marry her husband by her parents who sought to quell their boisterous daughter. After their passing however, her older, more responsible husband showed his true side and blazing rows started. Being one of the lower ranked couples, they were soon treat with disdain as were their offspring. Rateomal grew up with his step brothers and sister, rough people with rougher manners. He was in and out of trouble from an early age, mainly due to the fact that he wasn't disciplined, his mother couldn't be bothered and as they were low ranked the children were left to their own devices, yet still maintained his streak of niceness. The holders shook their heads, he was worse than his mother was at his age, but they couldn't help but like him when he came running up to show off new finds. Despite the trouble he caused he was a sweet boy, and the other holders began their plan of calming him down.
At the age of 9 he had calmed sufficiently to be trusted with small jobs, and was so proud at this trust that he tried even harder to behave well, even to the extent of taking on the role of teacher to his younger siblings. The atmosphere in their home was always oppressive so being the chatty boy he was, Rateomal would entertain his younger siblings with stories to take away the worries about the arguments. As he grew, he was apprenticed to the weavers, but didn't do well there at all and returned home after a year to help out there while something was found for him. Whilst there, he discovered that he got on well with the herdbeasts, and so stayed on to help with them. He lived a fairly boring life, no major events until the day his hand was stood on by one of the larger herdbeasts. Broken and bleeding he went to the healers who could do nothing more than put it in a splint. the break was inside the hand and seemed to be stable, so they stitched his skin wounds and left him to heal. Whatever luck there was shone on him and it healed well, though leaving his last two fingers slightly shorter than they should be. Soon after this injury a clutch was discovered on the sands by none other than Rateomal and a group of apprentices. During transit to the hold one of the lads dropped the sack with them in, cracking several in the process. Discarded when they got back because the cracks would surely cause the eggs to fail, Rateomal salvaged them. The feeling there were plenty about that was had by the adults wasn’t shared by him, the little creatures deserved a chance. There were four eggs discarded and his Master, touched by the lad’s insistence that he could make a difference, provided some thin bandages to bind the eggs. Never thinking it would work, the Master was surprised one day when Rateomal came running to him clutching a trio of wildly vibrating eggs. Grabbing some of the meat he had handy for his firelizard’s dinner, he set about showing Rateomal how to feed his young charges. Minutes later, with all lizards fed and asleep, his master was shocked to realize a bronze had found himself a nice bed in his sleeve, and Rateomal had gained a gold and a brown. The last egg proved to have been irreversibly damaged, but from then on the effort was decreed worthwhile to save eggs.
Life returned to normal, and he was moved to the apprentice barracks, he was 14 now and needed a skill, he worked well with beasts so he was left to work with them. Not far off gaining his journeymanship, he was called in one day. Dragonriders would be coming on search and beasts would need slaughtered to feed them, he and a few others were sent to kill some of the beasts, the Master Herdsman with them. As they dispatched the animals the dragonriders arrived, the flight sweeping over the heads of the workers to land in the field before them. From that moment, Rateomal fell in love with the dragons, he stood watching them, half hoping one would talk to him, whilst their riders and the holders ate the hastily prepared feast. He turned at a quiet voice asking whether he shouldn't be at the feast. As he turned he realised the person was a dragonrider, and a very attractive one as well! Her knots proclaimed her as a Greenrider, and he half closed his eye, now, wasn't it the Greens and Blues that were search dragons? This thought had barely completed in his head when the rider spoke again. Yes, it was they who searched, and her dragon was pleased to say that she wanted Rateomal in the hatching of the newest clutch at Southern Weyr. Exaultant, Rateomal ran to his barracks after thanking the rider and dragon, gathering his stuff and running back to the dragons. His parents came out to see him and another 4 boys and girls off, along with a few others from the Hold. Farewells were said but the sincerity of them from both sides in Rateomal's case were less effusive and more relieved. Mounting the dragon he gripped the belt of the rider before him and departed for his new life.
Taken to the Weyr that day, he stood at the hatching that sevenday. Expected to Impress to a Bronze, he didn't even look at the lesser colours as they hatched and staggered from their eggs to their new partners. Until, that is, one blue made for him and stood in front of him. Shocked to find himself presented with a lesser dragon, he was all set to turn and run for the entrance when a bronze blur all but flattened his sibling.

I'm hungry and need food. I'm Yanmeth and much better than blue.

Speechless, Rateomal dropped to his knees to give his bondmate a hug and then took him to the food tables, happiness radiating from him.
The pair grew well, and R'al and Yanmeth became a great team. Transferred to Dark Moon Weyr when the Weyr needed rebuilding, they hope to prove their prowess there.


Pets:

Type: Firelizard
Name: Smudge
Colour: Brown.
Gender: Male
Age: 5
Personality: Incessantly curious and nosy, he is seldom quiet, but when he does settle for a sleep it's nigh impossible to wake him. A very loving little soul and loves Maia to pieces.

Description: A rich brown, a darker brown touches his tail and nose. Fully grown but appears to be small for his age.

Type: Firelizard
Name: Maia
Colour: Gold.
Gender: Female
Age: 5
Personality: Proud and haughty, she demands attention and gets it, or noise is made and serious noise at that. She loves nothing more than to sun and sleep where it’s warm and cosy. She is loyal to her friend and Smudge though and will defend them if needed.
Description: A vibrant gold, a shimmering paler gold laces her wingsails and underbody. Still growing but appears to be small for his age.

[Ranuu]

Name:
T’ran

Age:
20 Turns.

Gender:
Male

Rank:
Rider

Dragon:
Bronze Fallieth

Dragon Appearance:
Fallieth is a beautiful dragon. He’s not the largest bronze in the bunch, but definitely not the smallest, coming in at approximately 36.5 feet (just over 11 metres) with a wingspan of 62 feet (or 18.9 metres). He usually has some sort of sheen to his hide, being the dragon of the prideful and willful T’ran. They both take an almost obsessive pride in their appearances.

The bronze’s normal stance is one of either increased confidence or pure ego. It’s a sort of modified-military stance - tall, rigid, proud, with very little or no slack in any joint. This may be to hide the fact that the socket of his left wing is permanently injured, having taken a good amount of damage during his first attempt to fly a Queen, nearly a turn ago. It hasn’t harmed his ability to fly or maneuver, but rather the amount of time he can use it. Whereas most bronze dragons can remain airborne for a long while, Fallieth is lucky if he can stay airborne 90% of the time that he could before the accident. The wing would probably just give out again.


Dragon Personality:
Fallieth behaves just as one would expect from T’ran’s dragon. He is vain, a bit cocky, and very prideful. His ambition and emotional fire are something that is rarely seen outside of greatness. The one thing that seems to hold the dragon back from legend is that he cannot be humbled. In Fallieth’s mind, he doesn’t make a mistake, and that’s something that isn’t desirable in a leader. A minor injury to his left wing-socket a turn ago turned into a permanent injury when he fought on through it, not thinking for himself and landing to be healed.

Despite this, Fallieth is a great leader. His confidence seems to be contagious, and other dragons tend to do better around him. The dragon will lead the charge if he has to, and will be in the air as long as he is able. He doesn’t panic when things go wrong, and he -usually- knows when to fall back. His voice is inspiring and he always seems to have the right words in any given situation. Unfortunately, he knows this. Knowing that he can be the center of attention has bred a love for being in the spotlight.

If there was a major, defining fault to Fallieth, it would have to be his emotions. Just under his surface is a roiling storm just waiting to strike. During a Queen’s flight after his injury, he wasn’t able to keep up as long as he wanted to, and flew into a fitful rage for hours, almost hurting T’ran when the rider tried to hold him down. Obviously, that stopped the tirade. The raging, horrid hatred of his injury and any time it causes his body the inability to keep up with his emotions is terrifying and a bit disappointing.


Appearance: (Upon arrival)
T’ran could almost be considered beautiful… for a man. He was raised in Harper Hall, where he was taught to always look his best, and could often afford nice clothes. Even now, five years in a Weyr, he ‘dresses his best’. You could almost call his appearance flamboyant. His midnight-blue eyes, shoulder-length blonde hair, and prominent nose certainly suggest nobility, but they’d be lying. Even the thick scar traveling from the outside of his left eyebrow to his cheek (level with the bottom of his nose) seems to add to his appearance, rather than detract from it.

Clothing-wise, T’ran pays homage to his oldest love almost daily, wearing dark blue shirts. The shirt he’s wearing upon arrival to Darkmoon is his best, with a high neck and golden trim. It’s a riding overshirt, reaching to his knees, but being cut at the waist to allow for an opening further downward. A black belt holds it at the cut, wrapping all the way around the man and fastening with a (fake) gilded buckle. His leggings are more practical, being made of a heavier, thick, white cloth with padding around the areas more prone to chafe. They dip into high boots of blue (matching the shirt).

Overall, T’ran might appear effeminate, even a bit comical, to others.

Personality:
On the outside, T’ran seems to be that person. He’s extremely confident in his abilities, even to the point of being cocky (much like Fallieth), vain, and more than likely a narcissist. It’s said about T’ran that he’s “never seen a mirror he didn’t like.” And, despite all of this, he’s very charismatic and fun to be around. He’s ‘everyone’s best friend,’ so to speak. Being harper-trained, he’s well-versed in the ways of speaking and etiquette, and would more than likely sing one of the harper ballads to anyone who would want to listen.

In a disaster situation, much like his dragon, T’ran exudes a calm confidence. Even when he’s not in a position to order others around, he will, usually in moments of danger. Many riders at Fort pushed for him to become a wingleader, though he didn’t want the position. He’s assertive and polite during official meetings, and defers to the proper people, though his thoughts are often on every mistake that’s being made. He’s not vocal about these, however, and is usually respected for his courtesy. Oh-ho, if only they knew.

T’ran’s inner workings are very different than his exterior. The ‘perfect’ charade he carries is only due to a burning, passionate desire to be better than he is. Self-loathing, I believe, is the term. Nothing is good enough for T’ran, and he is almost always disappointed in himself. He analyzes everything he does, and remembers every mistake he makes. Later on, while alone (or with Fallieth), he’ll review every one and set to fix it. This ambition and drive usually distracts him from the power-plays and politics of other bronze riders, though he does participate from time to time.

He wouldn’t accept the position of wingleader for precisely this reason. He doesn’t trust himself yet with the responsibilities. It also ties to his ‘connections’ with other people. See, he befriends easily, but he almost never attaches his feelings to any particular person, due to the times during his childhood and adolescence when he was ripped away from everything he knew and loved, once at 11, the other time at 15.

The constant analysis and over-critical nature of the man has turned him into a bit of a cynic. The world is evil, very few people care about the common good, blah blah blah. He sees himself as a possible guiding light, but doesn’t want to step up to the plate until he’s accepted himself. And that could take a good long while.

Others shouldn’t expect to see this inner side of him. Nobody ever has, except for Fallieth.


History:
Talran was born almost as far south as one could get on the northern continent, in Boll Hold, on the western peninsula. He was born to a family of farmers who operated just outside of the Hold. His earliest memory was the majestic dragons of Fort Weyr fighting beasts away from the hold, almost 16 turns ago. Somehow, that memory always stuck with him, and would resurface later on.

He was taught his letters and numbers, how to read and write, by the resident harpers at Boll, just like everyone else, and made some very good friends. One in particular. They were nigh inseparable, and would commonly pretend that they were secretly brother and sister, and that their parents were just lying to them about having never met before they became friends. Nobody could tell the proper parents, of course, but it was all in good fun. Until… that day.

As he grew, Talran gained the notice of the harpers that were his very teachers. They noticed how quickly he remembered and sang back the teaching ballads of their craft, his developing charisma, and the amount of friends he had. One day, only a month or so before he would turn 11, Talran was paid a visit by these harpers, who were more interested in seeing his parents. They told his parents that their son had a gift, and that they’d like for him to move north, to Fort Hold, where he could enter the Harper Hall proper. Since it was in the same region, his parents agreed, and Talran had some tearful goodbyes to make. The hurt in her eyes when he told her he was leaving still haunts his nightmares to this day.

He was happy at Fort, though, and his parents visited often. Finally, he was introduced to others with the charisma, spirit, and love for song that he had. And he flourished. Talran latched onto the craft like nothing else in his life, and quickly rose. In fact, he was a Journeyman Harper at 15. Fifteen, that is, when he was Searched by the local riders at Fort Weyr. They came and, once again, Talran was ripped away from what he loved.

The boy was pretty cocky, and the dragonets from the first hatching (he thought they were ugly little buggers anyway) didn’t attach to him. In fact, one knocked him over and gave him a nasty slash to his face, which later scarred. It shook his self-confidence, somewhat. Still, he had made an impression on the people at the Weyr, and he was put onto the sands again for the next hatching, which wasn’t very long afterward at all, he thought. This time, a little bronze looked up at him with those rainbow eyes, and he was forever changed. He went onto the sands as Talran, but would from that point on be T’ran, or ‘mine’.

In this new environment were more opportunities for T’ran to flourish. He loved learning things, and what better to learn than how to be a dragon rider? Memories of that day in Boll came to mind, and he couldn’t wait to be one of those majestic riders coming in to inspire some other youngster.

Eighteen months later, Fallieth was fully grown, and they were allowed into a wing. The first few flights went flawlessly, with the training exercises, different maneuvers, and tips still ringing in the boy’s (then 17) head. By this time, Thread was long gone, but there were other things that needed doing. As it is often said, one bad day can ruin everything. Fallieth was at fault for this one. Fort’s Queen took to the skies one night, and Fallieth decided he could catch her. Even when his left wing started aching, he ignored it, pushing on. He was actually in the lead, and it seemed that the Queen was taking a liking to him. But then, POP. The flaring pain crossed the connection between T’ran and Fallieth, and T’ran was finally able to convince his dragon to come back and be healed. Unfortunately, the damage was already done, and he would forever be held back.

They got along alright, though. T’ran pampered Fallieth for the months that it took for his wing to heal, and after that time, they started flying again. Short trips through the air at first, with steadily increasing amounts of time in the sky as more time passed. Eventually, Fallieth peaked, though he couldn’t stay in the air as long as he’d been able to before without his wing hurting or just plain stopping. T’ran began forcing his dragon to land whenever the wing started acting up, no exceptions. It was saddening (and maddening at times) but they could still help out with events around the Weyr.

As T’ran’s credibility with the Weyr grew (daily, it seemed), he started getting pushed to pursue some sort of leadership position. Positions he didn’t really want. While Fallieth wanted the glory, T’ran was comfortable just helping out without any of the fancy titles or increased responsibilities that higher ranks denoted.

Eventually, however, the story of Dark Moon Weyr came through to the north, and riders were asked to transfer to fill the lack the southern Weyr had. T’ran, being qualified, volunteered. It was just about time for a change of scenery anyway…

[panther]

Name:Y’rael

Age: 24 turns

Gender: Male

Rank: Bronze Rider

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Appearance: A disarray of thick black hair, dark brown eyes, a lean body and a distinctive grace all add to the wolfish air this man carries. He has a strange charm that lingers around him like an aura. It makes him stand out to all, but opinions vary quite widely.

He is tall, reaching six foot quite easily, and he stands every inch of his height. Posture virtually perfect unless he’s sitting. Y’rael is strongly built, twelve turns of being a rider having stripped any fat from his body, he is a man who has filled his form, and is no longer in the lankiness of his teens. This said, Y’rael is quite long in the leg, an unusual occurrence for men.

His slightly scruffy form makes him wild looking, one of his former lovers called him an ‘unfastened gentleman’, she explained that this was a backhanded compliment, he took it as a compliment though. She told Y’rael that he was a man who could appreciate the finer things in life, yet he could still walk around looking like he had just got out of bed, and get away with it.

Y’rael, though mildly vain, takes little effort with his clothing , yet it all seems to just add to the strange effortless perhaps even raw graceful air that he carries. His vanity only extends so far as how others perceive him. And he will never leave his weyr without at least looking mildly presentable.


Personality: he adores the role of alpha male. His own self-glorification makes his ego swell to a rotten size. Though it doesn’t take much for him to undo himself, he’s quite clumsy, and a little immature. But this only shows itself when he is idle. Boredom is quite the killer for Y’rael. He does not enjoy not being kept busy. And at the same time, he needs to be stretched, constantly challenged. He does not like being left out to pasture. He enjoys being challenged and pushed, his limits tested.

Most of the time he is a fairly serious man, who just failed to grow up entirely.
He loves the company of others, and is quite the entertainer. He loves to organise parties and shindigs and all sorts, he thrives on being the centre of attention, and his hatching was nothing short of that!

He has a mild claustrophobia. He loves open spaces, a backlash of being a dragonman for as long as he has. He does not like to feel trapped, a strange distinction of claustrophobia, for he gets it mainly in crowded venues. For this reason, and this reason alone, he tends to keep himself out of Large gatherings if he can avoid it, if not, he tends to sit with a smaller grouping, usually the less pretentious people. Some people have their suspicions that this is because he doesn’t like to be out done. But, he is a more… muted grandiose, he likes to be the centre of attention, but he will not make a complete show of getting there. He likes to gain his attention in a fair manner.

He enjoys frivolous activities, swimming, dancing, generally having fun with friends. He finds real friends quite difficult to come by. He’s a kind man, but he tends to attract people who don’t have a deeper side to them. Y’rael is not just surface, which makes him complicated. He does have a deeper side, one that he doesn’t show quite as often, mainly because it’s his optimistic and vulnerable side. And he doesn’t like feeling weak. He’s quite a plucky fellow, he is strong in the front of adversary. As stated, because he likes a challenge.

History: The son of a Master Smith, he never found the interest in his fathers craft, his mother always scorned him for not working hard enough as a child, but his father knew that Ysarael was destined for other things than the smith craft, the boy was too light in his frame, far too social and far too optimistic in stark comparison to the grim pessimism of the average smith. He lived in the halls for 12 turns, doing nothing remarkable. He went from odd job to odd job, nothing overly serious, anything from running messages (which he was rather good at, deft and agile young rodent that he was – practised from avoiding his fathers well placed blows of retribution!) to cleaning out runner stalls, he was a hard working lad, but one who’s interest waned incredibly quickly.

At the age of twelve turns he was searched by the local watch dragon T’ran, T’ran suggested he stand for the next hatching in Igen weyr.

Young Ysarael was overjoyed at the prospect of leaving the dratted hold! Let alone leaving the hold for a weyr!

So Ysarael bound up some of his belongings, said farewell to mother, father and his two sisters, and raced as fast as he could back to the watchdragon, who was all strapped up and ready for departure. Wild and unrivalled enthusiasm began to intoxicate his system as he began to dream of the weyr. His childhood dreams on their first stage of realisation. Oh how jealous Hilir would be! His best friend back from the hold. Naturally he would impress, it went without saying! A dragon would be foolish to turn down such a perfect specimen of a soon-to-be man. He puffed out his chest as he thought on it. T’ran came from behind him, patted him on the shoulder telling him words he’d never forget, “There’s no need to puff boy, it’s the dragon who’s going to do the work” Simple, yet they made him feel more embarrassed than anything he’d ever done before. Because T’ran was a Dragonman. And Dragonmen were to be respected. He blushed fiercely, his manhood impugned by the nearly-thirty-turn-old rider. But! Excitement soon eclipsed the impugnation, and Yasarael – aided by T’ran – mounted the watchdragon and they took towards the sky.

Heartbeats later they were at he weyr. He had heard dragon travel was fast but this was unbelievable! His heart raced in his chest as the floor came to level with the ground.

The hatching occurred two sevendays later, and as the hot sands warmed his feet, a golden copper egg ruptured, the second to hatch, But as the egg goup cleared from the hatchling that everyone had bets on being gold, it revealed a hatchling that was bronze! Or – mainly anyway, the hatchling had some dull stripes, like he had been born with thin dull patches.

The large bronze impressed quickly his mind searching out his partner. The Smith’s son! And when the Weyrwoman son stood also! Shards there was uproar that night- but naught could be done! The weyrwoman’s son remained unimpressed, and Yasarael became Y’rael of Bronzen Nyxth.

As Nyxth grew, his markings changed. The dull bronzen colour began to show more, the coppery bronze colour splitting off into a dashing brindle against the dull metallic background.

They passed their weyrling lessons with flying colours, and the weyrlingmaster could not deny but they were a fine bronze pair. A good example, even if a twelve turn old was very impressionable to impress to a bronze. But they worked well together.

Turns passed and the two grew to full maturity, Nyxth never rose until he was five turns old, persevering through the urges to prevent his bonded from getting put into an awkward situation, for the entire weyr knew that Nyxth was one of their strongest bronzes, and was likely to win a flight he rose to chase. If he put his mind to it. Fickle as the bronze was.

But at the age of 17, Y’rael’s bronze rose to chase the junior queen, but, the brindled bronze got bored part way through, his bonded’s lack of attention dissuaded the bronze, who then went between and caught himself a green in another weyr, venting his frustrations there as opposed to with the gold he was poised for.

Ever since, Nyxth has risen to chase, but never been overly competitive for the prize. He chases to outpace the others, to compete. He is highly comptetive, and loves to show off, yet somehow, he has not been totally consumed by the rising flight lust. High ranking people in Igen often suspected this was due to his and his bonded’s young natures. The Bronze often caught greens, hapless and casual as it was. His bonded turned to venting his frustrations on local girls. This was where the interest began.

Y‘rael began to flirt casually with girls, and then found he could not stop, for girls tended to return his interest, he was curious where this had come from all of a sudden. But they always said he was charming and gentlemanly, two words he would never have used for himself!

As further turns passed, he found himself adopting wingsecond position. He rose to the challenge as much as he needed to, but he wasn’t too forward about it. For, though the role itself was a little more involved than his previous wingrider position, he found himself finding the jobs incredibly tedious, and rather repetitive. But when the wingleader fell ill – he really began to shine. It put him in the spotlight, and he adores the limelight, and shards, but if it were possible for one man to be more than organized, Y’rael was it.

Recently, not feeling stretched enough in his current position, L’pit (wingleader) Suggested his transfer. Transfer to a southern weyr, small quiet, could probably do with livening up, and there he would be stretched to try and help the weyr flourish.

He thought on the matter, a great deal over the course of a month. And thought long, and thought hard. And he has decided that it would be a good thing. New place, new challenges, and new people to meet. He was especially looking forward to that part! He loved meeting new people. Social butterfly that he was, he loved to impress, to show off a little, and to tell his grand tales over again. Embellishing them perhaps a tad. All forms of ego-stroking for the easily flattered such as Y’rael. Though he is certainly not pompous, Karma tends to bite him in the arse a little swifter than with most. So, the transfer papers were sent, and he is pending his transfer to Dark Moon Weyr.

Dragon
Name:Nyxth
Colour: Bronze
gender: Male
Age: 12 turns

Appearance: He is a fine dragon, large, long, and light. Unusually light and skinny in fact for a bronze of his size. His back legs seem a tad chunky for his lithe body, and his tail a little thick, but it gives him a nice balance in the air.

His colouring, is far from regular. The base of his hide is a dark bronze, matte almost in its finish; so much that he looks like a light brown – except for in his size. But the unusual part is what goes over the base coat of the dull – subtly metallic - bronze, is a bright and vivid brindle like pattern, that runs all over his body, the brindle is quite thick, and quite distinct. A perfect copper bronze and a marvellous contrast to the dark and dull metallic underneath it. His feet all fade out with the brindle though, and claws yield again the brilliant copper bronze colour of his brindle.

His wing membranes are the opposite, at the edge, the brindle becomes so intense that it edges his wings in the copper-bronze, making it quite odd to see him with his wings folded, for the membrane looks like a mess of dull and bright, with no sense or pattern to it.

His head is quite long, quite deep-set features, giving him an oddly regal look, again the brindle concentrates around eyes and around his maw, framing them quite nicely. His top jaw overhangs slightly, making Nyxth look quite dopey in certain angles.

Personality:Nyxth’s an oddity. He is your average bronze on so many counts, he is bold, he is standoff-ish, brazen, brash, very masculine. And yet, he is an incredibly intelligent dragon behind all of that bravado. He claims that its not intelligence, its experience from the sheer number of things he has done wrong in the past.

His one main virtue is, he is honest. Though this can be both a great thing, and a bad thing. He knows little tact with it, his rider has grown blissfully ignorant of it, toughened to his bonded thorn like words. He can be quite abrupt. But he will always give his honest opinion to anyone who asks. But, if pushed by his bond, he can be sensitive about subjects. Just, generally he is slightly too lazy to bother curbing his natural tactless self.

Pets: none

[Marnark’tranarprol]

Name: R'anl

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Rank: Bronzerider

Appearance:

R'anl is not a tall man. But neither is he short. He fits quite nicely into the medium range of height, marking in at a decent 5' 10" to 5' 11" height. Depending on whether or not he's standing at attention. His skin tone should be fairly fair, but after years of dragon riding and working out of doors, he's acquired something of a perma tan. His dark brown hair is usually cropped to a few inches of length, and generally looks like a mop that's been plopped on his head… a very fine mop with some slight curl to it, but a mop nonetheless. His eyes are piercing at times, and soft at others, in the usual, ordinary color of brown. His jaw is broad, but not quite square. At times it can be covered in stubble, though most of the time he keeps his face clean shaven. Mostly because when he allows a beard to grow, it's a complete coverup! It would cover his cheeks most of the way to his eyes, and stick out in all directions from his jaw. So, for decency's sake, he stays more or less clean shaven.

His physique, like that of most riders, is quite trim and muscular. Being a mature male he does not have any stringiness to him at all, being quite well filled out. He tends to dress in light-colored long-sleeved cuffed shirts, most of the time with a lacing closure up the front, rather than buttons. And fitted yet relaxed trousers in a dark color. His feet are never bare, always wearing shin-high thin leather boots that are a great deal like moccasins when it comes to walking around noiselessly. These are usually dyed black, if he has any say over the matter.


Personality: R'anl is a responsible, cunning on occassion, and all around determined individual. He is loyal to the utmost, though his actions regarding that sometimes leave those around him wondering. As such, he doesn't have the best name when it comes to loyalty, but it's his intentions that count in his mind.

R'anl is more or less easy going, though he is fairly good at pretending to be stern and overbearing. He doesn't like to do this, but some occasions in his life have led to the necessity of it. When he is allowed to be quiet and relaxed, he is. He is not above idle talk with anyone, regardless to whom he is speaking. They could be a drudge, or they could be the Weyrwoman herself.

He is blunt, and honest. Regardless of to whom he's speaking. R'anl does not wear any masks; what you see is what you've got. If a ranking rider – even a queen rider – needs a shot of reality, he'll give it to them if he can think of the right words in time. Naturally, this leads him to being rather unpopular with some people.

Rather thoughtful, it isn't unusual for a body to get completely away from him before he's quite composed the proper words for conveying any said idea. But this aspect is only in casual encounters and the like. When in the air, or in the thick of things, he relies heavily on snap decisions and ingrained-until-instinct reactions. Mercy hoping they are the right ones to make at the time.


History: R'anl was born in Crom Hold to two simple holdfolk who did thier best to scrape a living while they were at it. The youngest of four sons, R'anl had a blast chasing his older brothers around, when he wasn't being frustrated at being left behind because of his youth. When he was twelve turns old, and just starting to seriously consider which craft would impress his father the most, he was searched right out of a haystack while sleeping off a merry day of chasing runners around.

His parents objected strongly, and that alone almost held R'anl back from even going. But a convincing argument from the bluerider, and R'anl decided he'd go along ... if only to get a peek inside High Reaches! But even with that curiousity to sate, he was cowed by his father's blatant dissapproval.

Seeing the torn nature of R'anl's desires - go, and yet please his father - the rider offered a compromise, springing off of his blue's assurances. Allow the lad to try out at one Hatching, and if he didn't impress, he could return to whatever R'anl's father wanted.

Also seeing his son's desire to go see the place, R'anl's father relented, fairly sure that there was no way his son was going to impress anything at the Weyr. Especially not with only one chance at it. Quite a few people aged out of that, he'd heard. So he allowed R'anl to go.

Gleefully, R'anl was excited to see the Weyr, though a little distressed at the sheer amount of lessons and work they put him through while there. And when Hatching day came, the wonder of his life appeared out of the second largest egg on the sands. A burly bronze dragonet made his name known to R'anl as Geth, and from that day forward, R'anl was enamored and captivated, completely bound to his lifemate.

Though young, R'anl worked hard in High Reaches ... and through some prodding from Geth turned into a man who stood on his own feet and said what he thought. This in turn got him frowned on a lot by the senior riders who did not appreciate the pointed opinions of a young whippersnapper.

In time, he began to realize that he wasn't going to get anywhere where he was ... too many people already had concrete ideas of who he was, even though he had changed over the turns, growing from a very young lad with a dragon to a loyal adult who wasn't the same fool they thought he was.

Frustrated and chaffing under the collar, R'anl was about ready to try something ... anything ... to make his mark upon the situation. To become who he felt he could be. Who Geth thought they could be. Concentrating on the home front at High Reaches, it took them awhile to realize that maybe that wasn't where they were supposed to be working so hard... what about a different place?

And with Geth poking around - as descreetly as he could manage - they found out that Dark Moon had had several Bronzes abandon ship on them. Between the sudden drop in larger dragons, and the apparent lack of loyalty issues the place seemed to be having, R'anl felt it was an ideal spot to try his hand at becoming someone who was at least respected. And one night, he and Geth simply took off with no notice, heading all the way from the cold chill of High Reaches climate to the warmer southern continent where Dark Moon resided. In the process they abandoned the two felines that R'anl had kept as pets.

Pets: none atm

---

Dragon: Geth

Color: Bronze

Gender: Male

Age: 12

Appearance: Geth is a sturdy, completely mature, adult male Bronze. And he looks it. His wings are large for his body, which is long. His tail tapers off to a whip like end, which can and has snapped through the air fast enough to make cracking sounds. But, even though he is long, he is by no means lean. A burly, massive Bronze, Geth sports intense power which is made to appear even more so by his rather aggressive nature. He tends to lean forward and upward, when addressing lesser dragons, thus making his size and color quite obvious. And in later years, his seniority.

His face is somewhat gnarly, from age mostly, but there is some scarring there as well. And it does not help his overbearing appearance at all.


Personality: Ambitious and strong willed, Geth has helped to shape R'anl into who he is from the youngest son of a farmer. He has a complete lack of a sense of humor it seems. He doesn't joke around at all, being altogether too serious. If he does somehow get that someone was telling a joke, the most they would get out of him is a huff.

Though decently agreeable on the ground and in normal maneuvers, Geth is the complete opposite when it comes to flights. If another male gets too close to him during a flight, it is not unknown for him to lash out and attempt to drive the other male out of the sky in a breif skirmish. This is the result mostly of a frustrated youth aging into an older dragon who had never managed to pry the queens away from thier favorite bronzes. If skirmishes are somehow avoided in the course of a flight, he is nothing but focused concentration and determination. No flourishes, no poetry, no calls. R'anl has yet to get it through his thick head that maybe he's scaring the queens he's chasing.

[Minajerie]

Name: R'khol

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Rank: Weyrleader

Appearance: He has such dark red hair, as to look almost black, yet will flash with fire when caught in the light of Rukbat. He has his hair layered, with the longest layer coming down to his collarbone, but he rarely keeps it down. It is almost always seen confined by a tie at the base of his neck. He has light grey eyes, with a bordering of dark charcoal that can vary in their intensity depending on his mood. He has a square jaw and long eyelashes, and could almost be described as 'pretty' if his features didn't have such a masculine tone. He has two parallel scars bisecting the middle of the left side of his jaw. A remainder from when he was impressed when he was young.

He has a larger build. This man was made to be a rider. Sturdy, with muscles born from drills and training from a young age. He's a tall man at 6'2", though his height is evenly distributed throughout his body. He has lightly tanned skin, despite the fact that he is in the sun fairly often.

Personality: R'khol has a quiet passion about him. He takes things seriously, contemplates what people have to say, and always tries to be considerate. He believes that showing respect for others is an important part of earning others respect for yourself. He has a courteousness about him... you might even go so far as to say he has a touch of gentlemanly chivalry about him.

He would never raise a hand to a woman. Never. Even if she taunted him, or threatened his life. One of the things he fears most is having to take one woman's life in exchange for another. Women are precious. They give you compassion and children. Both things men need in order to survive.

However, he is not a ladies man. He is loyal to one woman at a time, and they tend to be few and far between. Somehow... people tend to misunderstand him. Sometimes the things he says can be taken harshly, even though he doesn't mean them too. He simply tries to be truthful to others.

History: Born the nephew of Lord Holder Falayan, he was raised in a fairly loving environment, and that environment included three sisters. Two older, and one born seven turns after himself. He learned the hard way that women should be respected- though it would be later he learned they should also be treated gently.

And by later, I mean around 9/10 ish. When he was obviously getting bigger than the girls and ended up hurting his little sister. He was horrified that he had such strength over her, and became rather self conscious forever more when in the presence of a girl/woman.

When he was twelve he was searched out as a candidate for Ista Weyr. He was impressed the following year to a rather excited to see him bronze. In fact the young dragon was so excited that he had tackled the pre-pubescent Ruekhol and accidentally clawed his jaw. The bronze had actually given a rather frightening sound at the realization that he had hurt his mine in his zeel.

However, that was the extent of drama for these two for a while. R'khol was trained and took exceptionally well to direction, and as he grew into a young man, showed promise of leadership and teaching capabilities. He was patient and watchful. Two things that helped when flaws were involved.

Pets: None

Dragon: Bronze Kegrith

Dragon Appearance: He is on the larger spectrum of a bronze (37 1/2'), his coloring going toward the brighter spectrum and becoming more of a mottled slightly rusty area in his front claws and his hind legs, and the tip of his tail. He also has a sort of 'cap' of a similar dark shade on the top of his head, drooping to his eye on his left side. He's about average as far as his muscle bulk is concerned.

Dragon Personality: He can be humorous, and tends to show his excitement and passion for life in ]a slightly louder voice than his mine. He has similar values, though. Such as chivalry and honor and such. He has no trouble keeping lesser dragons in line from doing something stupid that could hurt his fellows. He can't abide silly/stupid mistakes. They lead to hurt hearts like that time during impression....

[Kandarra]

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Hetero

Rank: Bronzerider

Appearance: With black hair that never stays put, ever, and green eyes, T'rin is rather memorable. He has a perpetual tan that contrasts sharply with his white teeth, which he often bares in a quick flash of a grin. His jawline is sharp and his face long and narrow, with a bit of a pinched look about the eyes. His nose is long and pointed. In build he is somewhat stocky, with short arms and legs and a long torso, though the Turns since he Impressed gave him enough height that he stands at about 6'. He is neither scrawny, nor super-muscular, sitting comfortably in between the two.

Personality: T'rin was the oldest of his five foster-siblings under Brina, their distracted and self-absorbed foster-mother, so he quickly became accustomed to having responsibility. This does not mean, however, that he necessarily liked it. However, it made him fairly confident in his words, and he has adopted an air of self-assurance—indeed, nearly arrogance-- that he does not always possess.

He believes this commands respect from all, not realizing that it can make him seem conceited. Under that cover, he harbors doubts about his attractiveness, skills, and social ability, but rarely reveals them to anyone, worrying that others will judge him like his foster mother did. He firmly believes that each person deserves respect, but also that violence against anyone without very good reason invalidates that respect immediately. He has a strong sense of honor and a deep need to be liked.

History: As previously mentioned, T'rin grew up with four other foster-siblings with Brina in a middling-sized Hold. He was in charge of them mostly because Brina couldn't really care less and only did enough so that her near-neglect went unnoticed, so that she could get the respect and attention she wanted from the other holders for fostering so many children. At age 17, he was Searched, and taken to Dark Moon. Soon after, he Impressed Bronze Amparath, and began Weyrling training. Unfortunately, in the middle of it, he was called off to deal with Brina's death and managing her affairs, as the others were far too young to understand how. He managed to make it back and make up his lessons in time for Graduation, though he did ruffle a few feathers in the process.

Pets: Micra, green fire-lizard. Micra is as small as fire-lizards come, but fairly intelligent for a green. She prefers to spend most of her time exploring and visiting with other fire-lizards.

Dragon: Bronze Amparath

Dragon Appearance: Amparath is such a deep burnished shade of bronze that he would almost appear brown if it weren't for the metallic sheen to his hide. He is nearly as large as his sire, Myranenth.

Dragon Personality: A bronze's bronze, Amparath is rather vain and confident. Despite that, though, he is intelligent, and when that combines with the confidence, beware! He is known for arguing his rider into submission, especially when it comes to his mating prowess and size. Because of his personality, it is very easy to get a rise out of him, which T'rin often does with much affection.