Candidates

[Spirithawk]

Candidates

[Kino]

Name: Tanwen

Age: Seventeen

Gender: Female

Rank: Candidate

Dragon: N/A

Dragon Appearance: N/A

Dragon Personality: N/A

Appearance: Reaching an average height of about five feet six inches, the girl had a build that gives the impression she would’ve done quite well as a Runner. Her hair was a reddish sort of blond color, with a few natural highlights of a darker shade of the base, and hung rather straight to end just above her shoulders, layered to give it a sort of choppy appearance. Her eyes, matching up quite nicely against the dusty tan of her skin, were an odd sort of tannish gold color, the pupil and edge lined in a dark chocolate brown.

Though she was an acute enough student, she tended to not much pay attention to wearing only her craft’s colors, and instead branched off to wear whatever she rather pleased. She wears dark chocolate brown leggings, loose enough to be comfortable, and ending just above the simple leather moccasin-type shoes that adorn her feet. The material is a soft sort of leather, with the sole of it simply layers of tougher hide stacked together. The pants are held taught around her waste by a simple leather belt.

On her upper half, Tanwen wears a dark maroon shirt with long sleeves that flare lightly around the wrists. The bottom of the shirt looks almost as if there was enough length to drape lightly over her hips; but a slit had been cut on the right side from the hem of the shirt to her belt line, and there the shirt had been tied in a simple knot to keep it lining up quite nicely along the top of the belt. In the warmer seasons, the maroon shirt is changed out with a dark cerulean blue sleeveless shirt, the hemline ending at the belt line without any knot needing to be tied.

As a few extras, Tanwen also has with her a pair of gloves and goggles, neither of which she wears at this point considering they were for glass crafting; but she kept them in hopes of one day using them for riding gear. The gloves were crafted in a tough but soft, comfortable leather in a brown that seemed to be a few shades lighter than her pants. The stitching on the gloves was in a maroon color that matched her shirt quite well. Her goggles had much the same color scheme. Everything except the thick glass lenses was made out of the same material as her gloves; and in truth, the make-up was based exactly off of the gloves that Rider's wear- albeit the colors, which were obviously not the stereotypical bland colors that most Riders got their goggles in.

Considering her apprenticeship with her uncle, Tanwen sports a few scars from working with the molten glass. She's got one fairly noticeable scar on her right wrist. She has a good deal of scars on her arms, mostly shaped like elongated drops or splatter lines. The majority of her smaller scars are shaped like flecks; she'd acquired them on her first attempt that the 'lamp' she made. The glass had ended up shattering, spraying the apprentice with molten glass. The most noticeable of the scars from this is a drop-shaped scar just below the corner of her left eye. There are a great deal of smaller scars from the event as well, all along her arms and across her face. The spray from the broken glass was very fine though, so from a glance these scars would look like freckles. It's only up close that one can tell they're actually scars.

Personality: Tanwen is friendly enough to those she both does and does not know, but she does have a sarcastic air about her that reveals itself in her speech. One thing that can surely be said about her is that she does not have a tendency to sugar coat anything she says. Because of this, depending on what’s said to her, she can seem almost antisocial in her comments of return. Also, despite her lightly biting choice of words, she could possibly be called a smooth talker in some situations.

Despite the air that such a personality gives off, she tends to warm up to people all the same. When people back off right away due to her lightly snide comments to them, she tries to lighten up her comments to a more ‘friendly’ level; but in the rare case of someone rising to the ‘challenge’, the situation can be quite different. And though her overall personality can make her seem cruel, Tanwen can just as easily be very kind, particularly if her comments unintentionally hurt someone.

History: Tanwen was born to a couple who were part of a Glass Crafthall, the two being owners of a shop in their Hold where the products of their hall were sold. At a young age, Tanwen had been the usual ‘sweet-as-a-bubbly-pie’ little girl; however, there weren’t many other little girls of her age in the area, and so she ended up mingling with the young boys of the hall and Hold. Considering a group of boys has a tendency to be more rowdy than a group of girls, Tanwen had quickly caught on to how to keep her group of friends in check.

As she grew, the quirks she’d adapted from hanging around the boys brought about her current dry, clever sort of personality. When she was old enough to begin taking on duties or training, she decided that the life of a shop keeper was not one for her. Instead, she was sent into the crafting part of the craft, an Uncle taking her under his wing to teach her the ways of glass blowing. The youth wasn’t incredible at it, but her skills were coming along decently, and in time she was able to make a few things on her own. Eventually she made a pair of lenses for a custom-set of goggles that she wanted, along with another odd sort of lighting trinket she was fond of.

This second item was a thick glass orb with a cylindrical opening at the very top. The bottom of the piece was flat; and along the edges it looked almost carved to give it a diamond pattern along the edge. Truthfully, the pattern had been pressed into the edges of it when the glass was being blown, and the opening at the top was just the size for a glow to be put in. The glass itself had been blown in variety of colors, mainly in the blue-green family, with a deep violet color here and there. The piece would magnify the light of a glow, thus proving it to be a sort of ‘lamp’.

Though Tanwen was…content with her life in the Glass Crafthall, she wasn’t really satisfied with it. Inside she thirsted for something more, a life more exciting and adventurous; but such things only seemed to come to Dragonriders, and there had never been a Search in their hold ever in Tanwen’s life. However, one day, that changed. A Greenrider touched down near the Hall, explaining that she was a Searchrider from Dark Moon who was starting to look for candidates in preparation of the next hatching, though there wasn’t currently a clutch.

Tanwen was chosen as one of the candidates, and she jumped at the opportunity. Having always been rather independent, she wasn’t worried about becoming homesick, especially when it was because she was moving into a Weyr. As a candidate, none less.

[Torva Anian]

Name: Kallan

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Rank: Candidate

Dragon: NA

Dragon Personality: NA

Appearance: He is rather short as boys go. His dirty blonde hair seems in a permanent state of disarray (much to the dislike of his mother). He has warm, brown eyes and a freckled nose, although if you can see it through the dirt that's sometimes there you are doing better than most. He wears normal clothes, although they might be a bit more ripped than some of the 'proper' people's clothes.

Personality: He is a rather mischievous lad. He loves to get into things that are 'forbidden'. Just hearing that word makes him anxious to get moving. Due to his sunny nature most people don't hold it against him. After all, his wandering hasn't gotten him into /too/ much trouble. He doesn't steal or do anything bad. He doesn't even try to peek in on things he shouldn't at his age. (Doesn't mean he didn't accidentally find stuff out.) He knows gossip about quite a few people due to his wanderings but he's nice enough to keep quiet about most of it. His pranks are mostly harmless and only amuse himself and a few select friends.

He has a huge curiosity. He doesn't like to let anything go until all the 'whys' are answered. On the other hand if something is more interesting, the old subject can be dropped. If people remembered the medicine from Earth they might comment that he might has ADD because his attention span is atrocious. He can barely listen to you for ten seconds if he doesn't think you're interesting.

Basically, his life centers around finding the next 'interesting' thing. Because of this he is rather knowledgeable about many things. The downside is, he only knows a little about each subject, for he tends to quit many things halfway through in lei of something better.

In a seeming contradiction, he can make friends. He is a rather loyal to those he deems as friend. Although it's sometimes hard to tell what he thinks of you. If you don't take charge of the conversation he'll tell you a great many things, but not always what you were aiming for knowing.


History: Kallan has lived in the Hold right outside of Fort Weyr his entire life. And, unless you count the trips to the other Holds, he's never left. Despite the fact that he has lived in Fruit Hills Hold his entire life, he doesn't really feel a great loyalty to it. It was just a place that he was born in. Unpatriotic, huh?

He has lived with his mother who was, at times, overprotective. It may have been the fact that his father had left a while ago for whatever reason. He never thought to ask and she didn't provide the answer. It just didn't seem that important. He lived with his mom, near aunts and uncles and all those things. He had plenty of family and a father just wasn't that important. Although he would tell you that half his cousins were snots.

He can always be found skipping chores in order to go find the closest body of water to swim in, or climbing trees, or bugging people. Anything really to make sure he wasn't to be found while they were assigning chores. His favorite place to go is the main Hold, though. It had the most interesting people. I mean, isn't it cool to here such and such maid did something or the Holder's daughter is sick again. Then again, sometimes it was rather boring because he didn't know half the names they said.

Life is peachy with Kallan. He's like all the other young kids, immortal of course. He did hear that this Thread was coming back, but he was rather more interested in hearing what the cook was saying (something about an apple pie ... it was delicious).

Of all the people in the Hold, old man Chiyo was the best. He seemed to have something against Dragonriders but other than that, he held a lot of knowledge. And he seemed to love talking to Kallan about it. He'd frown and sometimes shout when he was interrupted (yet again) by Kallan, but most of the times it was fun to listen to what the old man would say. Now, if only he'd give decent information about dragonriders, eh?

Of course, maybe his favorite person is supposed to be his mom, but she assigned too many chores and the person you love can't be counted favorite, right? She was a great cook though, and that's how she actually got him to do some chores occasionally. He'd do pretty much anything for a bubbly pie of hers.

On one of his wandering excursions he came across a group of people. Ever curious he walked up and poked around until he firgured out someone had brought a Queen's clutch in town. He learned that Chiyo was to get one. After some pleading, begging, (and a little blackmail), he got Chiyo to give his egg to Kallan. Of course, Kallan was ever so gracious. (Chiyo ended up being happy he didn't pick the flitt because it had atrocious manners.)


Pets: Bronze Fire Lizard, Don Quiote

[Sparrow]

Name: Belior

Age: 15

Gender: Male

Rank: Candidate

Dragon: (N/A)

Dragon Appearance: (N/A)

Dragon Personality: (N/A)

Appearance: There are two things people notice when they first spot Belior. One is, his curly reddish/light brown hair, and two, his height, or lack thereof. Belior stands at about 5’ 3” and most of his clothes look too short since he’d just gone through a growth spurt. He is not happy about his current height and hopes he gains a couple more inches. His hair so curly that is one were to pull on one of the curls straight and then let go it would spring back to a curl. His hair comes down to the top of his ears, though when drenched the water weighs the curls down and it comes down below his ears. His eyes are a dark blue, looking a bit like the sky shortly after the sun has set.
The boy is pretty skinny, except for in his face where he still has some baby fat in his cheeks. Freckles appear across his cheeks and nose; he looks younger than he actually is. Dimples appear when he smile, and he can be described as cute, though as a boy starting to notice girls that doesn’t sit well with him.

Personality:
Belior is an energetic lad who seems to have an abundant source of energy. His work as a scribe in the Harper Hall’s archives is absolutely unbearable because he prefers more creative and more active work. However, he is also the type of person who will work on something till it’s done. If possible he likes to multi-task and he does not sweat the details, which helps him get things done faster, though not always the best result. The boy is generally able to size up a situation quickly and make a rapid decision based on a gut feeling; this could aid him in Threadfall. On the other hand he tends to take big risks, which could get him in serious trouble in a Threadfall.
Belior tends to stick up for those who might need his help. He stands up for what he thinks is right. He does not hold his tongue if he thinks a rule is wrong and tries to get it changed. Belior does not have any big plans for the future; he’s not that type of person. He is just along for the ride and will see how everything ends up thinking everything will work out for the best. Based on this he is definitely an optimist. Belior could be a leader since he gets along with almost everyone but would much rather let someone else handle the details of leadership. However, if one is needed he would step up. Though, he’d be more like a mediator or a democratic leader in the chance that he would be the leader.
One problem area is that he gets angry with setbacks or small things that have to be met before reaching a finer goal. Another problem is that he is competitive and is loud and boastful about it.

History: Belior was born into Telgar Weyr where his mother was a drudge. His mother, who some thought was a bit off named him after the bigger of the two moons that revolve around Pern since it was full the night of his birth. He does not know who his father is though it is very likely that he was a dragonrider. When he was 9 turns old the Weyr Harper suggested he be apprenticed to Harper Hall where he sang soprano and learned how to play a couple instruments, though his voice was the main reason he was there. The boy was really enjoying his time at Harper Hall; he loved learning all the songs that the Weyr Harper had never taught the kids. At 14 turns, however his voice began to change and he was sent to work in the Archives to copy old manuscripts since he had decent handwriting. The work did not appeal much to him but he was able to stay at Harper Hall. When he was not working he spent his free time playing with the other kids, usually a game of dragonriders. He got along with almost everyone except for a group of older kids who had chosen him for their target of teasing, having found out he was terrified of heights. They said he’d never be a dragonrider as he was afraid of heights.
The phobia had manifested itself first when the kids decided to see who could climb the highest in a certain tree (as there was no Thread for turns the trees had been allowed to grow tall). Everything was fine as he concentrated on climbing up but as soon as he reached the top and looked down he froze. He stayed up there for a couple hours, his legs trembling too much to make it down without help. Finally one of the kids climbed up to help him down, but the older kids would never let him forget it. They found it doubly ironic that a boy named after a moon, that was high in the sky was scared of heights.

Pets: none

--


Quick sketch of Belior

[Kino]

Name: Vaelryn

Age: Seventeen Turns

Gender: Male

Dark Moon Weyr Rank: Candidate
Crafthall Rank: Journeyman Vintyr

Extra information/abilities: He originated in a science-notebook doodle.

Dragon: N/A

Dragon Personality: N/A

Appearance: Vaelryn was of average height, reaching to 5'7" at this point and still with some growing to do as he aged. He doesn't have an incredible build, but his muscles are lean and toned from working in the vineyards and winery with his parents for his whole life. His hair is black, with blueish highlights in the sun, and his eyes are a minty green. His skin is naturally an olive color, and since being in the sun for many hours of the day it has darkened even further.

For the most part his clothes are fairly basic. He wears a short-sleeved white cloth undershirt with a collar and lacing on the upper part to fasten it shut once it's on. Over that he has a deep scarlet tunic with leather straps over the shoulders, also dyed a scarlet, and a thin line of a lighter red color all along the borders. There's a brown leather belt around his waist with a few metal rings attached along the center line, and his tunic hangs down a bit below the belt. On his lower half he wears khaki colored pants. They're tucked into boots that come just about up to his knee; the boots are mainly a dark brown leather, same as his belt, with cloth around the outside that laces up in the front to secure them. The cloth is, again, a dark scarlet in color.

I also took an idea from Ranuu and found a picture that I BASED his outfit off of.
(The shoulders in the picture above are only accurate in color)
Keyword here is BASED.
So if you think you're able to read his description and get a good idea, and then look at this outfit and picture the outfit with my changes included? Please click the following link.
BUT IF YOU'RE NOT ABLE TO DO SO, just use your imagination, because the colors on this outfit are SO wrong for Vaelryn.
-LINK-

Personality: Vaelryn is not one to have a lack of confidence. This isn't to say he's too egotistical, but rather that he simply feels good about who he is, and that this is shown in his mannerisms. He has quite a bit of charm, and is rather talkative in nature. Vaelryn does know hot to stop talking, but if a conversation topic is hit on that he is interested in he will contribute a decent amount on the subject.

He isn't particularly a flirt, but that isn't to say he doesn't know how. If someone else begins flirting with him, he is more than happy to return the gesture, but he has never quite been one to start up the process. Vaelryn is also not really biased about who's flirting he returns, and the few times it has happened he has also been known to return the flirting of another boy. He's never really thought too much on his willingness to do this.

A big part of his personality is his pride in his family's craft. He's fully aware that their Vintyr hall is a smaller one, and that is it not located anywhere near Benden, but that doesn't stop him from believing that their wine is the best there is. He's tasted what's been called the best of Benden before, and still stands by his opinion.

Biography: It's true that Araby Hold is not known for many crafts, but the climate is perfect for grape vines. The forest is thick in many places, but the Vintyr hall has an area of vineyards that has been cleared of trees so the vines get plenty of sunshine; the buildings of the hall are built in the shade of the plentiful trees.

Vaelryn grew up right in the heart of the Vintyr hall at Araby Hold with his father as a Master Vintyr. As soon as he was old enough Vaelryn began helping with whatever jobs at the hall he was able to. When he was very young these jobs would entail mostly following his father around as the man checked on the ripeness of the grapes, and oversaw many of the other activies in the hall. As he grew older he moved on to help with the work in the vineyards themselves, doing the more manual labor jobs that were an integral part of raising the vines. Everything they did in the hold was done specifically to grow the vines in the best way possible.

As his training in the vintyr craft continued Vaelryn did learn the steps in the winery process. His father made certain that his son was being trained in all the parts of the Vintyr craft. Even so, Vaelryn often found that he was happiest in the vineyards themselves, tending to the plants and making sure that everything was growing to the best of its health.

Though Vaelryn spent a good portion of his time working in the craft hall, this didn't stop him from going out into the rest of the hold and enjoying the laid back lifestyle of Araby when time allowed it. There were enough people in the Vintyr hall that everyone got plenty of chances to relax and mingle with other people in the hold, and the young apprentice Vintyr was no exception. However, he didn't exactly make any friends that were terribly close to him, and instead tended to socialize around with others his age equally.

Yes, Vaelryn was planning on spending his life in that Vintyr hall at Araby Hold. Eventually with all his work in the craft, it came time for him to take the tests to rise to Journeyman. Having spent his whole life studying under his father, he got through the testing and raised to Journeyman Vintyr. Yes, Vaelryn was well on his way to working through life and ending as a Master Vintyr when the time came. Yet this turned out to be a case where plans do not go as planned. A Searchdragon from Dark Moon arrived one day, and as he was within the age category this time, Vaelryn was sent out to stand and be inspected. As it turned out, the apprentice vintyr was searched as a candidate.

At first he actually was a bit crestfallen. He'd been planning on moving up through the ranks of the vintyr craft and one day - hopefully - taking his father's place as Master Vintyr of the hall at Araby. But being searched was one of the greatest honors a person on Pern could receive, and part of being tithed to a Weyr meant that when a youth was searched, they went.

As he packed his things, Vaelryn did find himself warming up to the idea. It wasn't as though he would never be able to visit home and return to the vineyards from time to time. It may turn out that he never impressed and instead ended up back at the hold. Then again, even if he did impress and wind up as a Dragonrider, he could return to the Vintyr hall for visits. So it was that Vaelryn gathered his things and joined the searchrider to head back to Dark Moon.

The story will continue.

Pets: None.

[Ranuu]

Name:
Elayne

Age:
17

Gender:
Female

Rank:
Candidate

Dragon:
N/A
Dragon Appearance:
N/A
Dragon Personality:
N/A

Appearance:
Not extremely tall, she reaches about 5'5", and she's underweight. Never known as the most attractive girl, Elayne was always more leg than torso, and self-conscious about that. Her shoulder-length hair, a reddish-blonde, is wavy and usually well-groomed, though it’s fallen into disrepair recently, with her exile. The hair is complimented by her greenish, pseudo-gray eyes. The gray in them make her eyes seem a very light, almost mint green.

Though she isn't the most attractive girl around, Elayne is by no means ugly, she's very pretty... just not up to par with some of the more... gifted females that she sees around. This, of course, makes her feel as if she’s ugly, and she feels like she needs to cover up her ‘disproportioned figure.’

The girl always wears baggy clothes, as if hiding her slender frame from the wandering eyes she always feels on her back. Currently, she’s wearing a large, heavy white cloak over her clothing, to protect her from the often unpredictable elements of Pern. Over her feet, the woman wears boots, though they are thinner and less clunky than the ones that the males wear.

Personality:
Elayne was never one to be part of the ‘in crowd.’ She’s always been more or less a loner, and could almost always be found in a corner somewhere, writing on spare scraps of hide or reading a book. Like most writers, she also has a skewed vision of the world, believing that chivalry and goodness is still in the hearts of the masses, and that every opportunity is open if one just hopes to reach out and grab it. Unfortunately, she is too scared to grab onto it.

See, Elayne is an introvert. Back in Southern Hold, she didn’t really have many friends, and it affected her confidence. The lack of confidence, in turn, kept people from befriending her… a never-ending, very vicious cycle. The few who would stick around long enough to get through that outer layer of extreme shyness and very lacking self-confidence would find a girl who could be considered charming and funny, albeit in an awkward, unpracticed way. Basically, she’s as friendly as everyone could be, but hasn’t had many friends to hone that attribute.

She likes to be clean. That’s a big thing about Elayne. Like most girls --and a majority of guys- she would prefer to be well-groomed at times, and enjoys when she’s dressed up. Well… she enjoys when she sees herself in the mirror and can think that she’s actually pretty, anyway. That hasn’t happened in a while.

Based off of her looks, Elayne could -and probably should- have been very popular. The reason she never pursued -or knew about- these options is the extremely low self-esteem caused by her family and a single quirk about her. That quirk? She’s homosexual. Naturally, there’s nothing wrong with that, and in her heart of hearts, Elayne knows that, but her family didn’t accept it. She’d known it for a while before she ended up coming out, but her family was always extremely hidebound (so to speak), and afraid of things that were different. When she finally admitted her sexuality to them (with Melanie, her girlfriend of the time, holding her hand), she was cast out of her home.

Despite trying to get past it, she still believes that what she is is wrong… some sort of sick deviation from the rest of Pern, and it has eaten away at her that she can’t change. It hasn’t only affected her view of herself, but also her level of anger, which is much higher than it probably should be. Elayne will probably forever have hateful fits when she feels that she’s being betrayed, crying, raging, and avoiding whomever the ‘traitor’ may be for weeks afterward. She just never found a good way to deal with it.


History:
Elayne was born and raised in Southern Hold. Her parents were both craftsmen of enough skill to be the Pern equivalent of an upper-middle class. They had enough wealth to not only live in a nice home inside of the Hold proper, but also enough to give their daughter a nice present every now and then. And, of course, Elayne loved getting the presents from her parents. It shaped her personality in many ways, getting to dress up as a little girl. They taught her to read before sending her to the harpers for her education, too, buying her a few books of the harper ballads.

Over time, she grew into a beautiful pretty young woman, well educated by the harpers of the Hold and very extroverted. She had many friends, and quite a few admirers as well. Like most teenage girls, she started liking the ballads of ancient lore less, and became more social. Also like most teenage girls, she dated a variety of boys, trying to find her ‘type.’ Unlike most teenage girls, however, she just never seemed to find what she was looking for. Every boy just struck her as boring… they were fun as friends, but she wasn’t making any romantic connections to them.

At fifteen years old, only about a year into her ‘love life,’ so to speak, Elayne became a bit disillusioned with dating. She confided this in a friend of hers, who then confessed that she, herself, wasn’t into guys at all, but rather preferred girls. This was all new to Elayne, as homosexuality wasn’t accepted in Hold-life (not nearly as much as it is welcomed in the Weyrs, anyway). She had heard her father complaining to her mother about the idiots at the Weyr once or twice, talking about how they aspired to be immoral, and using derogatory words toward their lifestyles.

After spending more time with her friend --Sacha, was her name- Elayne found herself enamored with the girl. Maybe it was just the idea of this whole new world combined with her unlucky streak with the opposite gender, but maybe it wasn’t. One day, it all came to a head, and they kissed. Oh yes, they did. And, right then and there, the proverbial fireworks of all the stories Elayne had read as a child flew. They exploded into a million points of light, all of different colors. And they weren’t the deadly kind of firework, either. (That last sentence is for Akki to appreciate)

Of course, this newfound lifestyle was a double-edged sword. On one hand, she was very happy to have someone she was happy with. On the other, unfortunately, her parents were the most homophobic people she’d ever met. Her father still complained about the filthiness of the Weyr, and how he would never send his property in tithing to them, with their evil ways. It was not only distasteful, but also extremely frightening to the girl, who had always looked up to her father. She slowly became more and more introverted, wondering if maybe this thing she had discovered was bad, if something was wrong with her.

Once again, Elayne retreated into her stories, reading and writing about beautiful girls who were locked away by their evil and tyrannical fathers, and how they would be whisked away by equally beautiful dragon riders. They would fall in love and live happily ever after.. She loved her stories. She cried while writing them, because she knew it was wrong to love them. Sacha drifted away, and another two or three secret relationships did as well, until that fateful day.

Only a few sevendays from her seventeenth birthday, Elayne came out to her parents. Her then-girlfriend Melanie convinced her that it was the right thing to do. Just as Elayne had always feared, her father regarded her as a freak, a nympho, a sickening, perverse spot on the glossy sheen of humanity. Her mother cried. Elayne was kicked out that day, and publicly disowned for being a ‘sexual deviant and fiend.’

She lived with Melanie for about a month afterward, not so much celebrating her seventeenth birthday as mourning it. It was the longest she’d ever been away from home. Because of her mopey attitude, Elayne fell out of love with Melanie, only to find that Melanie didn’t appreciate this pessimistic, reserved girl who had somehow mutated from the one she’d met. They separated, and Elayne was again kicked out. This time, she didn’t have a loved one to put her up.

A few sevendays on the streets, and she looked ratty. Her clothing took much more of a practical twist, and her beloved books were burnt for warmth. Those that she had taken with her, anyway. Those beautiful stories of beautiful girls, trapped in their faraway towers, the dragon-riders and the legendary Thread of long ago, the tale of Moreta’s ride … it was all gone in a flash. And that hurt her more than anything else.

She was considering the best way to die when the Searchrider came. Awed and fascinated by the beautiful creature he rode, she barely even heard what the man said. He told her about the ability she had in her, the possibility that she could Impress a dragon at Darkmoon Weyr. The books sprung back into her mind, and she couldn’t be taken away fast enough. Not only could she get a soul mate in the sense of a dragon, who would never leave her, but she also remembered her father’s harsh words regarding the Weyrs. Maybe there would be more people like her… or at least a more accepting society.

Pets:
None.

[breezie]

Name: Jeserin (shortened as J'rin)

Age: 16 turns

Gender: Male

Rank: Candidate

Dragon: N/A

Dragon Appearance and Personality: N/A

Appearance: At a height of 5' 11", Jeserin has always had a somewhat wild look about him. This is odd since there most of the time it is in direct opposition to his personality. Working on his family's hold all of his life has given him an earthy look to his rich tan skin and the sun has bleached his wild mane of hair so that it is a sandy blonde with highlights and lowlights strewn throughout. His mother always said it seemed to have a life of its own and reminded her of a field of wheat, constantly swaying in a light breeze. The majority of his body is fairly lithe but his arms are a bit bulkier. The entirety of his body is nicely toned but deceptively so. He has a kind face with vibrant blue eyes and more rounded features than angular. Being a hold boy all his life, he is not without various scars and hitches. He has a nice long scar from a cord that was being held taut and snapped lose. It happened when he was just turned eleven and caught him just above his left eye and across the bridge of his nose. His right knee, though fully healed now, very occasionally gives out from an injury received by being kicked in the knee by a herdbeast when he was eight. He also has limited feeling on the outward-facing side of his left arm from an incident with a hot pan of grease a couple of years ago. Other than that, he has the various nicks and cuts a hold boy is expected to have from working out doors.

Personality: Jeserin is in some ways your typical hold boy. He loves his family and would protect them no matter the cost. He is a hard worker and is no stranger to the dicipline of his father and mother. For the most part he is a rather tolerant bloke who is mostly looking to have some fun, but if someone starts disrespecting people in his presence he's not one to stand for it. Jeserin does have a wild streak though. He loves to take a risk and get into danger every once in a while. And the local girls would probably describe him as a charmer, though none take him too seriously, and...passionate...yes, that's the word: passionate. He is no where near a ladies man, but let's just say he has had his fun. Every girl he has been with has described him as a gentleman though. He is not unaware of a woman's thoughts and feelings ((so basically he politely tells them they were one night stands lol)). But, who knows, maybe he'll grow out of this in time. He is, after all, a teenage boy...'nuff said. Other than that, he is very loyal to those he becomes close to, enjoys spending his time riding runnerbeasts and is easily persuaded with bubbly pies.

History: Jeserin was born and raised in a moderately sized holding nearish to Kalanre Hold. He is the child of holders Jessa and Derin who have four other children besides Jeserin. There is his older brother Therin (20 turns old), younger sister Tarn (14 turns old) and his younger sister Kaylin (7 turns old). Jeserin loves his family very much and is very protective of his younger siblings especially. He also technically has another older brother, Jarin (25 turns old). Jarin left the hold when Jeserin was about 9 turns old. Jeserin doesn't know much about it except that Jarin caused an uproar in their community and left shortly after. Then a girl who had lived at a nearby hold came to live with them and she gave birth soon afterwards. After a few weeks of the girl being in a major depression they found her in the barn. She had hung herself, leaving a note to take care of her baby, Kaylin. Because of this incident, Jeserin is especially protective of Kaylin.
A few months after his 16th birthday, Dragonriders came to the hold on Search. He was extremely hesitant, but his mother and father urged him to go with the Dragonriders saying they would be immensely proud to have a Dragonrider for a son.

Pets: N/A

Here is a vague pic of him. I'll post a better one soon.

[panther]

Name: Kalyr (K’lyr)
Gender: male
Age: 17 turns
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Rank:Journeyman tanner/Candidate

Physical Description

He’s quite average for a Pernese man, reaching five foot and ten inches in height. Fairly well proportioned, slightly longer in the leg than most males, but that is likely due to his growth spurts, he tends to grow in the leg than soon after in the body. He’s quite well built quite strong, having had a job as a tanner for the last five turns, he’s built muscles in a few places, his legs from running and riding as he ferries the tanned good about and his arms from procedures. He tended to be in charge of a lot of the saddles and tack for runners.
His face is not handsome, striking is probably the best way to describe him. His face is very defined, each of his features practically chiseled looking, though- his nose is slightly flat for his face, and very thin. He has eyes of a slate-y blue, obscure to look , yet some how, most intricate. Though they may appear just a plain greyed blue colour, weaved into his cold eyes are threads of brown, green and hazel, though it would likely not be noted on fist glance. In shape, his eyes are slightly larger than usual, accentuating his rather unusual looking face. His hair is fairly long, usually pulled forward in somewhat of a fringe (bangs), it’s dark – it looks black, but when the light shines through it, it can seem an extremely dark brown. Despite this, and much to his distaste, the hair on his body is far from as thick as that on his head, he is almost built like a man, and with a tad more hair he’d pass quite easily, but he still fails to grow a beard, being patch and odd in colours. He keeps what of it does grow cropped short and well out of eyesight.
Kalyr’s skin is generally unscarred a few mishaps on his fingers which are quite hard and calloused from work. He bears a birthmark on the back of his right shoulder, it looks like a shadow cast over his tanned olive skin, but it is in fact a birth mark, like a stain on his skin where the melanin is stronger than elsewhere. He’s fairly conscious off it, and when a tad nervous, he scratches at it without realising he’s doing so.

Personality

Though he is afraid of very few things, he finds himself chickening out when it comes to girls. He can be shy around members of the opposing sex, why – he has never known – probably because he was never gifted with quite as much confidence as many other guys. Especially his youngest brother, whose confidence, he finds, tends to eclipse his in enormous scales. It helps that his brother was gifted with good looks, serving to do nothing to prop up Kalyr’s self-confidence. He is more the sweet guy with an extremely good sense of humour. That is his one saving grace – is a fair bit of a comedian. He loves fooling about and can often be found doing so. He enjoys being a joker, the jester of the court, and is more likely to be laughing that crying.
He has few other fears – nothing really recognisable by far… but some things can scare him as they would another.
Kalyr values trust. He’d go well out of his way for some one he trusted, and he would do anything for one he loved. His love is rare – but his trust is generous. As a result, he is a likeable person, quite easy going and takes it within his stride, he may not appear to bruise from a callous word, but he is soft inside, a generous hide protecting a soft core of mush. He is usually found to have a fairly wide circle of friends, each different from himself – because he hates being around those like him, finding them too foolish, and as with most jokers – he isn’t fond of them and finds that the shared personality traits irritate him. Rarely noticing that they are actually his own traits.
His patience is short, and often because of it he can be a slight bit ill tempered, but only fiery if he’s not feeling great or the likes, or under the weather.
Being the joker, he is quite susceptible to mood swings of grandeur. Though, they are incredibly infrequent, perhaps twice a turn if that – he can sink into an incredibly deep well of depression, he’s not destructive, just self loathing. He tends to find fault in most places. These only ever happen if he feels everything passing out of his reach, his life swimming over him as the surface of the water about him rises from knee deep to consuming.
Despite being a bit of a joker, he takes responsibility quite well, but he worries if he has to plan, but if its thrust upon him he can deal with it reasonably well. He’s quite strong at leading, but is lead easily also.

Background

Kalyr spent his childhood in the upstairs of the family run inn. Along with his brother and two sisters, him being the eldest of the four. His mother and father always busy and about running the day-to-day occurrences of the inn. Occasionally a fight would break out, and Kalyr would run downstairs to watch, but it was usually ended with him being yelled at to get to his cot. He and Txomin fought a great deal as children, Txomin was always slightly stronger than him, but Kalyr was quicker, and usually bested his younger brother. The single turn between their ages made power a thing of contest between them. Txomin was competitive, and Kalyr was naturally quite gifted at physical activities and agility.
At eleven he was called to the tanner’s hall, unfortunately he and Txomin both were called, Kalyr seethed at his brother all the journey to the hall, hating the fact that he was forced to share almost everything with his younger sibling.
Since the age of twelve he’s worked in the tanners hall in the north, he learnt the trade and advance fairly quickly rather adept at the trade that he and his brother were taken to learn, though both of them specialise in different areas of expertise. Though Kalyr was always specific in moulding, shaping and hardening the wher hides, his brother – Txomin was always more into the treating and cutting of the hides. So their lines of work complimented each other quite well. And as time passed, the pair grew out of their childish quarrels and into quite good friends.
Txomin got a fairly easygoing master; Hurlon, on the other hand – Kalyr’s mentor - was quite the opposite. He was a tough, stern man who took no nonsense and no time wasting. Though Hurlon was rough about the edges, he was a fine craftsman, and an excellent teacher. And over time, Kalyr and Hurlon grew close as friends as well as mentor and tutee. Early in his sixteenth turn, he was granted his rank as a journeyman, and, bearing his knot, two tassels on the loop, of white and brown, he travelled between there and the craft hall for dyes, and helped transporting and trading of goods between the hall and local holds, for around a turn or six months, but for the last while he has spent his time back in the tanners hall, ploughing into work with what could almost be called a passion.
But he was selected, this last week, to go on a trip to the southern continent, through the holds and weyrs, and offer their services along with a couple of other in the trade, more experienced members of the journeyman rank. Kalyr accepted the challenge happily, for he had never been to southern and it would present a nice opportunity to him.

Pets

Zeilizar – brown flitter – a gift to Kalyr from his tutor in the tanner’s hall, he was quite a tough mentor, but in the end, just before Kalyr was granted his own status as a journeyman tanner (who has not journeyed yet), Hurlon gifted Kalyr with the flitter egg, as a way of congratulations, and a method to urge his pupil to keep contact in the turns of journeying to come.

Dragon:

Colour : Not bothered
Name pref: Ashyath or something that's quite poetic.

[Xennai]

Name: Zigana [ZIH-gah-nah: Hungarian for “gypsy girl”]
Age: Sixteeen
Gender: Female
Rank: Candidate
Appearance: At sixteen, she still has a hint of the childish to her appearance, though most of it has bloomed in full maturity. It's there, in the slight roundness of her chin, in the innocent quality to her eyes, the look that says she still believes in childhood dreams and thinks they can come true, the look that says that anything is possible and that this is one person who has not yet been brought down by the world. At 5'5", she doesn't look like much. She has a tiny waist, though her larger hips and chest make her look bigger about
the middle than she is. This has proved to be a source of slight insecurity, because, while the people of her family and their friends think curves on a woman is a gorgeous thing, most of the people within her small, close knit community on the outskirts of Lokan Hold didn't exactly agree. They also didn't agree that her supple, copper skin was a thing of beauty either. Because of all of this, she's a bit uncomfortable with her looks and hasn't exactly grown into them, or accepted them, quite yet. Her hair, a black so dark that it has a green sheen to it when light hits it right, is a silken curtain that reaches to the middle of her back. It balances out her long, oval-shaped face nicely and sets off her dark brown eyes. Deep set and a shade the color of dark chocolate, they seem to see everything and find something good about it all. She has high cheekbones that make her look proud and regal, as well as slightly unapproachable. Her nose is slightly too large for her face, with a slight, yet pronounced, hook. Below are lips, the lower bigger than the upper, though the upper has a real and defined bow to it. She's a study in contradictions, nothing like the vision of beauty most hold. She's not pretty either. Words used to describe her would be interesting, different and unique, all in the way that all her different attributes and looks that would never seem to work together come together and do work, miraculously and unthought of, but they do. She's known to wear loose clothing in the form of slightly baggy trousers and tunics. She'd rather die than be caught in something that exposed too much skin or was too tight, because she'd be there the entire time, self-consciously tugging at this or that here and wondering if she looks fine and agonizing over whether she should have changed or not. She loves to wear light sweaters pulled over the head so she can pull her hands into the sleeves if it gets too cold. She’d rather go barefoot than wear shoes, but does when decorum or rules demand it. She has a few, small scars from accidents with tools, animals or from her own personal pets. There’s one on her right elbow from when she feel on a hoof pick as a child. There’s another on her left calf that’s a faint letter ‘L’ for Lokan, from an accident she had when she accidently ran into a hot brand during the springtime. Another underscores her mouth on the right side, a slight hooked scar from one of the animals with claws getting angry at her. She’s most often seen with Meka, her firelizard, riding around on her shoulder and hiding in her hair than not.

Personality: She’s awkward around people, there’s really no way to put it. She’s never been a great socializer, especially when she was teased in her childhood for her darker skin color than many of the other children. The parents didn’t want their children playing with her because they were worried that she had a disease their children could catch. The children were cruel as well, saying she needed to bathe more often and stop playing in the mud. The only person she connects with on a very deep level is her older brother, Jashani. With him, she is nothing but comfortable. She can talk with him about anything, including the opposite sex and her encounters with them. Rather than be upset over the comments about their skin color, Jashani shrugged it off, merely saying that it was cruel but they shouldn’t be bothered by it. He protected his sister rather than feeling bad for himself. Zigana also has an affinity for animals. She’s extremely comfortable around them, all her barriers down and her heart laid open. She’s very tender with them, almost motherly. She was the one in her family who connected with the goats they raised and it was she whose heart was broken every year during the slaughter time. Because of this, she’s more liable to talk about Meka with other people when she’s forced to make conversation. For all of that, when she does make friends, she trusts very easily and openly, with all of her heart. It’s a painful contradiction for her.

History: She and her family were born and raised in Lokan Hold. They had been part of the animal business since her father’s father’s father’s time. When Zigana was two Turns, her family moved closer to the outskirts of the Hold so they could keep more goats. The community there was very close knit and like a very large family. Her family was accepted by most of the community except for those who thought that they were dirty and unclean. Her parents didn’t let it affect them because they were respected by most, and her brother passed it off as senseless cruelty, but it affected Zigana deeply, because she wanted nothing more than to be friends with other children. It may be because of this childhood “trauma” that she is indeed bisexual. It’s unclear whether she was born with her sexuality or if it was an unconscious decision, but no matter the case, she is the way she is, though her affinity is more toward males than females. While she does not have a set type for either, she leans more towards being the heterosexual than the homosexual. It takes a very, very special female to touch her heart in that way. Zigana was fourteen Turns old when she had her first female relationship. It was wonderfully powerful and did miraculous things for her, bringing her out of her shell in ways nothing else had. When the relationship terminated and the other girl moved, Zigana was heartbroken and became even more awkward and anti-social than before. She’s only now, quite a few sevendays later, beginning to get over it. Her childhood was fairly normal, with nothing too abnormal or traumatizing, except for the incidents with the other children. She didn’t see anyone die, she wasn’t maimed or raped and she isn’t an orphan. She’s a normal person with her own set of problems brought on by her own self and from other, outside influences that have shaped her.

Name: Meka
Age: Five
Color: Blue
Appearance: A deep, dusky blue with lighter blue streaks of cyan under his belly. His left hind foot is clubbed. Although he can still fly, he’d rather just ride around on Zigana. He has a small scar above his right eyeridge from his claw catching on himself when he hatched.

Personality: Meka is very shy and scared of loud noises. He’s extremely attached to Zigana, to the point that he can’t be without her. Though rather shy and frightened, he’s fiercely loyal and protective of Zigana and would attack anything he perceives as a threat to her.

History: He was born five Turns gone in a freak hatching that was near Zigana’s small community. The eggs had been buried in the sand and dirt of a pen where some of the animals were being kept. It was a small clutch, only five eggs. Because of the shallow covering for the eggs and other circumstances, only tow of the eggs hatched. Zigana was the only person to find the eggs and the two flits “impressed” to her. The other creature beside Meka was a Green even more deformed than Meka. She had only a wing and a half. When she died a sevenday later, it was found out that her heart hadn’t been whole. Meka attached himself to Zigana easily and has been with her the last five Turns through thick and thin.;

[Zen]

Name: Calleigh

Age: 16 Turns

Gender: Female

Rank: Apprentice Beasthealer ;; Candidate

Where? Caspian Hold (for now)

Dragon: Not Applicable

Dragon Appearance: (approximate size, color, unique markings, scars, etc.)

Dragon Personality: (more than just they are opposite or the same as their rider please)

Appearance:

Hair: Calleigh’s hair is a little longer than shoulder length and almost stark blond. This is natural, actually. Her hair is straight, but can be easily maneuvered to do whatever she wants it to do. Normally, though, it stays down. On rare occasions one may see it up in a more elaborate design than a runner tail, but that’s rare, if ever.
Eyes: Calleigh’s eyes are blue-green, and very inquisitive looking. One can never tell what’s going on behind them, and that suits her fine. They’re actually usually twinkling with mischief or happiness.
Body Type: Calleigh is a young girl. She’s still developing her womanly attributes, but that doesn’t stop her from being a lean, ‘mean,’ mischief making machine. Still not exactly grown into her age, Calleigh is gangly, but you couldn’t tell that normally, because of the clothes she wears.
Height && Weight: This girl is skinny, no doubt about it. She’s about 5’2”, and a little more than 90 pounds.
Scars: Though you wouldn’t guess that she has scars, she does have quite a few. She has a nick underneath her right arm where a knife accidentally cut her when she was younger. On her right arm she has a couple feline scratches that will never go away. On one of her fingers she has a burn from when she accidentally dropped a hot poker for the fires on it. The mark is so light that one can barely see it, except she knows it’s there. There is a small scar on her left hip, but she has no idea how it got there.
Other: If she can, she will never wear dresses or skirts. She says it makes her look too much like a girl.

Personality:
Likes:

Dislikes:

Strength:

Weakness:

Overall Personality

The girl is forever mischievous. Calleigh is known for playing pranks, and sometimes getting away with them, too. Once or twice she’ll get caught, but that once or twice does not account for the multitude of other times when she walked away from the ‘crime scene’ happy. Calleigh loves to run, and can never seem to stop moving.

Calleigh is always happy, even when she should be sad. She can’t be sad. Calleigh can get angry, but usually her anger abates after a few seconds, as she can control it, keep it in, and oftentimes almost dispel it entirely. She does not need anger, and therefore does not use it, and oftentimes she doesn’t feel it at all. For this reason, even when she shouldn’t be, Calleigh is jumpy and happy.

Calleigh loves exploring things, even things that she is to young to know. The girl is always curious, and always retaining the things she learns, but since she does not have enhanced memory as an ability, she usually forgets what she has learned. She is very perceptive, though, and is able to tell if someone has passed by a place recently, or long ago. She’s also quick to use her intelligence in times of need, or as a silence-breaker.

Calleigh is also stubborn. There is not much more to say except she will fight for what she wants, whether that be the life of an animal or getting someone to believe her.

History:
Immediate Family
Lutho – father – Lord Holder of Alturan Cothold – male – 38 Turns
Corniella – mother – Lady Holder of Alturan Cothold – female – 34 Turns
Lostoll – brother – Heir to Alturan – male – 18 Turns
Calleigh – herself
Charlea – sister – Holdbrat / Apprentice Dolphineer – female – 10 Turns
Lutho’s Family
Dornio – father – Master Weaver – male – deceased at 60 from heart attack
Laurta – mother – Retired Cook – female – 69 (blind)
Lonolla – sister – Cook – female – 40 Turns
C’rustov – brother – Greenrider of Darspath – male – 35 Turns
Doriana – sister –Turquoiserider of Heelkarth – female – 30 Turns
Oarna – sister – Cook – female – 25 Turns
Corniella’s Family
Gorghe – father – Former Lord Holder – male – 56 Turns
Castella – mother – Former Lady Holder – female – 55 Turns
G’st – brother – Vanadiumrider of Whortnath – male – 35 Turns
Suriai – sister – Copper Mennerviath – female – 32 Turns

Calleigh’s life began much in the same way all other people’s lives begin—at birth. However, we will start before her birth, or even her existence. Her mother was a Lady Cotholder, leader of the small cothold Alturan, beholden to Caspian Hold. The woman was a strong leader, always working and striving to make Alturan a better home to those who lived there. She wanted nothing to do with children, and only chose a husband (or rather, was married to a man per her parent’s orders) because she had to have one. She was focused solely on work. But no one can escape a particularly overpowering Gold flight. Corniella and Lutho (Calleigh’s mother and father) were overtaken by the dragons’ flight lust, and they bedded.

What came from that brief period of love was not Calleigh, but her older brother, Lostoll. Having discovered that motherhood was perfect—a nice reprieve from the day’s demanding labors—Corniella softened considerably. Only a Turn later, Corniella fell pregnant again—this time by choice—and thus began Calleigh’s life. Calleigh was born on the exact day of the Winter Solstice. In her earlier Turns, Calleigh was a lovable baby. She giggled easily, and whenever she smiled, she revealed cute baby dimples. She grew into a stick-thin young girl who loved nothing more than to romp and play with children of any gender. Her older brother and younger sister (Charlea) usually went along with her antics, though (like all good little children) they always placed the blame on her.

However, as she grew, the girl became fascinated with animals of all kinds, especially dragons and their kind. Since the cothold she lived at was beholden to Caspian Hold, the children were taught many Herder skills. Because Calleigh had taken such an acute interest in the Herding business, she was a prime candidate for apprenticeship. But Calleigh did not want to be a pure Beastcrafter. No, the girl did not want to work on herd patterns, or mucking out runnerbeast stalls. She did, however, have an undying love for animals and healing. So she began instead to train as a healer… of animals.

She began with the fundamentals of healing, which was taught by a Journeyman Healer. She learned many herbs that she had never known about. Then, after two Turns of learning herbs, their uses, and what to do with the herbs (or other medical procedures) or what to do if there were no herbs (or other medical procedures), the girl moved on to healing animals. At first she started small, with tunnelcats (especially her mothers’) or canines. She soon moved on to larger animals such as milchbeasts (goats). Later she moved again onto harder things, such as helping runnerbeasts or donkeys (unknown Pernese name) birth or fixing sprained muscles.

However, the girl wanted to help dragonriders, too. So, with the acceptance of the MasterHealer and MasterHerder, Calleigh moved to Caspian Hold (she had previously just been at her cothold), where she was subject to more injuries: including fire-lizard injuries. She jumped onto those injuries with a wilingness to serve, and soon learned fire-lizard anatomy. Now she is hoping to help dragons, who, like many others, had been talking to her since a young age. However, though she has not yet started to heal dragons, she would love to learn the dragon anatomy--and help during Thread (whenever it falls, for it shall, soon).

Pets: Dog Koda

Appearance:

Unlike most canines, Koda sticks out like a sore thumb. He does not blend in with the surrounding area, and instead would only succeed in hiding in snow, if, of course, he would stay still for a second. He is an albino, a misfit that was going to be killed if Calleigh hadn’t saved him. His pelt is white as snow, and long so that, on cold nights, he is warm and, on warm nights, his pelt acts like an insulator. His eyes are oddly a bright red color. He’s nearly blind, and can only see where he’s going by smell and hearing.

Personality:

Koda is a very strange dog. He doesn’t help in anything other than follow Calleigh around, wag his tail, and randomly walk into things. However, he is very quiet, never barking. He, since he is blind, sticks so close to Calleigh that you’d think he was a toddler to a mother. His quiet does not include his whining, which he does whenever he can’t see well enough to find Calleigh’s general location, or whenever someone new is approaching. He expresses his feelings well: wagging his tail happily whenever someone he knows approaches, growling or whining whenever someone he doesn’t know is around or if he can’t find Calleigh.

[nabisco]

Name: Karstag

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Rank: Candidate

Dragon: N/A

Appearance: Karstag has short, slightly curly brown hair and stands little more than six feet tall. He's somewhat gangly, but is always trying to get stronger (he's rather weak as it is). However, while his arm and torso muscles are lacking, he has very strong legs. He has dark blue/green (a combined shade, not two differently coloured) eyes and a small white scar on the side of his elbow, about an inch long. He usually has a farmer's tan from working outside often. Not caring much about fashion, he wears plain, worn clothing that always seems to be a bit dirty, even when he just put them on.

Personality: Distrusting and quiet to those he doesn't know or people he isn't introduced to by friends. To those he does consider friends, he's kind hearted and always ready to lend a hand. He thinks about the comfort of his friends before his own, often putting him in situations where he's working all night so his friends don't need to do so much. Ironically, when it comes to doing his own work he tends to slack off. He's a voracious eater, always hungry for another serving. He loves to run and swim, always trying to stay fit. Reading is also one of his favourite pastimes. He tries to write, but he doesn't think he does it very well.

History: Karstag comes from Kalanre Hold. He has a brother and sister. He is the son of a farmer and a cook. Starting from an early age, he learned the farming Craft to follow in his father's footsteps. However, he never really enjoyed it and became very tired of it turns ago. His brother suggested Dark Moon jokingly, but Karstag took to the idea. He has now come to Dark Moon Weyr in hopes that he will find a place in it's halls and a dragon that will be at his side.

Pets: None at the moment.

[Akki]

Name: Faine (Pronounced Fay-ne)

Age: Fifteen Turns

Gender: Female

Rank: Candidate

Appearance: Faine’s height has now settled comfortably at a nice and well-rounded 5’4, a decent height in her opinion. She didn’t want to be tall, that would draw far too much attention but being the shortest person around meant that you could never see over the heads in front of you. Her face is a nice round shape, framed by hair. She has vibrant red locks of hair with auburn and golden strands mixed in. She would have preferred a darker hair color, perhaps a chestnut brown, but she was learning to live with the rather bright color that she was stuck with. It wasn’t the hair color itself she minded, but more of the fact that everyone in her family had brown hair except for her. She was the odd one out. Her hairstyle is short and choppy, the longest part of it reaching her shoulders.

Her eyes are the typical color one could expect with red hair. A light green, flecked with varying hues and sometimes one could see a few specks of brown if they were standing close enough. Right underneath her left eye is two freckles, the only ones found on her body. A distinguishing birthmark that annoyed her, she thought of them as blemishes. Her lips were thin and a soft red color, but perhaps this was because she had the tendency to chew on them. Her hands and knees are covered in scars, permanent memories of the past. Her complexion wasn’t pale, but not necessarily tanned either. It was a mix, she wasn’t white enough to be pale but there wasn’t enough sun soaked into her skin to give her a radiant tan. Just above her chest was a long and jagged looking scar. She wasn’t necessarily skinny. She had more of an athletic body because she was used to running around, climbing and escaping from certain situations.

Personality: Faine looks like your everyday girl, but she most certainly does not have the personality of one. She’s a nice person, polite and knows her manners. She’s friendly and can be talkative if she feels like it. However, she has a few quirks about her.

The main quirk being the fact she is a kleptomaniac. She often finds herself holding things that do not belong to her. Her disorder is bad enough that her hands would reach out and take something and she would not even realize it until later on. She tried to be aware of her hands at all times, but it was a difficult thing to do. She never took anything that was really valuable, just small things like parchment. She would try to put the things back but often hoarded them because she wasn’t aware of where they came from. Because of this she was often yelled at as a child – no one believed that she couldn’t help it. She is now rather paranoid and jumpy. If someone starts a conversation with her, she thinks they are going to accuse her of taking something of theirs. She flinches easily if someone approaches her from behind. She’s also very apologetic; she feels very guilty when she accidentally takes something and has the tendency to loudly shout ‘Sorry!’.

Like most kleptomaniacs, Faine also has an obsessive-compulsive disorder. There are varying types of this, and she has realized that she is the kind who likes to count things. And the type that has to do certain things three times before being content. For example, Faine has to make her cot three times before she can go do something else. It’s tiring and can take up a lot of a time but she doesn’t know how to stop it. She’s learned to do it as quickly and as neatly as she can so she won’t waste too much time. She often finds herself counting things, how many dragons are in a Weyr to how many freckles one person has. She can normally avoid this compulsion by distracting herself, but if she spends too much time counting then she has to continue until she is done. It’s a handy thing when people ask her to count something for them because they know that she will have the right number in the end.

Other than that, she truly is just another girl. She likes the idea of being sociable but it can be hard for her since she is often trying to prevent herself from stealing something. If people spend enough time with her, they will see that she is a nice person with a sense of humor.

History: Faine comes from Kalanre Hold, a hold that is more or less responsible to supplying food to Dark Moon. Her father was just a holder but he often ended up spending most of his time tending to the crops. She rarely saw her father around, only on rainy days when one couldn’t go outside to work in the fields. Her mother could always be found in the kitchens, cooking and serving up the food that was brought in that day. Faine used to help out in the kitchens when she could but eventually got kicked out when the cooks finally got fed up with the girl taking their utensils.

She enjoys spending time cooking and making food, even if she does wind up taking something here or there. She found it relaxing and her tendency to count things was handy when someone wanted to know how many supplies were down there.

One day she was down there and heard the cooks coming. She fled, knowing that she was not supposed to be down there, but as she was running out she accidentally took a knife along with her. She didn’t realize what her hand was grasping. Needless to say, she tripped over her own feet and ended up falling right on the knife. It was a deep enough cut to be dangerous but not deathly, many told her that she was considered lucky. She was stitched up but now has the scar above her chest to prove that one really shouldn’t run around with sharp things.

Faine has one older sister, who hated spending time in the kitchens. However she and Faine never really got along. Her sister believed that Faine knew that she was stealing and often thought that Faine stole from her just to tick her off. Faine tried to avoid being around her and her possessions after that, not wanting to make their relationship any worse.

Faine was sitting outside, counting how many herdbeasts were in the field in front of her, when the Searchrider came. She was slightly annoyed at the rider and his dragon at first; they had startled the herdbeasts which caused them to run away slightly which meant Faine could not finish her counting. She forgave him of course, when he explained his presence. He informed her that even though Dark Moon Weyr just had a hatching, his dragon had informed him that she would be a rather nice candidate to have for the next one. She was thrilled, like most people were, and needless to say went with him. Her home was now going to be Dark Moon Weyr and all she could think, as she clung to the dragonrider, was that she hoped that locked up anything valuable. She did not want to accidentally take something that was precious to the Weyrwoman.

[Tenebrae]

Name: Tumaril

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Rank: Dark Moon Candidate

Dragon: N/A

Appearance: Tumaril’s fine hair is dark brown, borderline black in colour though in bright sun light it has a reddish sheen to it. She rarely wears it down, when she does it reaches past the bottom of her sholderblades by a couple of inches. It is far more common to see her with hair tied up, usually in a little knot or kept up with a largish clip. While she has most of it tied up, she does have a fringe and two pieces of hair at just below the jaw line level which, clearly, stay down the whole time.

The colour of her eyes are a mix of light dusty green and light yellow-y brown. They are set in a fairly round but not chubby face. Tumaril has a fairly small nose and has a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and he cheeks. The amount change with the seasons, more in summer and less in winter.

Tumaril has the potential to tan well, if only she’d spend more of time outside. Her body shape is petty average, not too slight, not too curvy, just... Normal. She has a tendency to colours in the Red spectrum with a particular fondness for the dirty, dusky tones.

Personality: Tumaril is one of those clever dumb people you see around. She is clever in sense that she has a good general knowledge for her age and can pick up new skills with remarkable ease. Despite this, she can be very dumb. She is oblivious to the world around; if there is a big event happening or something of the sort then she will almost certainly be the last to here about it and will be more surprised by than the news than necessary. Not to mention she can be a huge klutz. In the past she was managed amazing feats such as walking into large trees directly in front of her solely because she was engrossed in talking to her companion and it’s not always surprising to see her trip over her own feet (she fortunately has balance good enough to not fall) or choke on air.

She is also pretty naive when it comes to other people. On the whole she takes people at face value, believing and trusting them until she's given a reason not to. Even if she is given a reason not to, there is a good chance that it wont take much for her to start trusting them again. Tumaril is generally willing to talk about almost anything with almost anyone, not generally regarding anything about herself as secret though she knows that others aren‘t always as open about themselves as she is. It is with this open and trusting manner that she can gain friends with remarkable ease. She is liable to call anyone that she’s known and liked for about five minutes a ‘friend’, it takes a lot of putting up with her and hanging out with her to be deemed a ‘good friend’ by Tumaril.

Once people get to know her better however, some of Tumaril's 'friends' distance themselves from her a little ( not that she'll probably notice). Her sense of humour and off hand comments don't always sit well with others. Tumaril has a talent for finding humour in practically anything when she wants, from the blatantly silly or mundane to the morbid and macabre. She also has a good habit of making tongue-in-cheek comments without really realising. Tumaril also has a not so secret love of puns on top of this which will occasionally make people cringe.

Tumaril falls for people with remarkable ease which, on occasion, can become a borderline obsession but usually, sooner rather than later, she will lose interest in the person as anything more than a friend. Gender doesn't make a difference when she gets infatuated though she has yet to seriously fall for a girl but it's always a possibility.

It is almost impossible for Tumaril to hold a grudge. The most that happens is that she'll be irked with someone for a few days then will simply forget about it. It always seems like more work than it was worth to hold a grudge. If she dislikes someone, which usually only occurs when someone dislikes her first (and on a rare occasion, she’ll just dislike someone from the off because the air they have about them), then she will generally be civil with them but will make little digs and undermine them in conversation. This becomes something of a sport for her. Tumaril will happily keep this up until she is no longer in contact with said person or until they stop their open dislike of her. If she doesn’t hear about it then she’s happy.

It is rare to see Tumaril express emotions beyond the general 'happy' range. This is because she keeps such a tight reign on 'negative' emotions to the point that it is second nature. On the rare occasions that she gets angry with someone, Tumaril is the kind of person who will distance herself and reduce contact with them as much as possible, she doesn't shout or make angry comebacks. If she gets worked up to the point of shouting and tears, then you know that there is definitely something thing wrong. In the same sort of way, she refuses to let herself cry in front of others, seeing it as she's being weak and feeling like others would thing she was pathetic. Here she is hypocritical as she will encourage others to let it all out, knowing that it's not healthy to hold it all in.

Tumaril is a rather empathetic and caring person, to the point of losing sleep if she thinks something is wrong with someone she cares about. She’ll do what ever she can help the person in question, even if all it is is making them a drink and keeping them company until the early hours of the morning

It is quite common to see Tumaril sat in a corner somewhere reading or drawing, two of her favourite pass times. As a result, she spends far too much time sat inside. She *means* to go outside and knows that both these things are easy to do outside, it’s just... Getting round to it. She is easily enraptured by them that hours will pass before she’s even noticed.

History: Tumaril grew up in a hold on the coast. It was a small place and the kind where everyone knew each other. She was born to two doting parents as an only child. It's safe to say that in this environment, she had an easy and happy life. The older generations used to joke about how she was like a sponge and about how often she would pester them with questions. From a young age she had been free to roam the hold during the day and during this time she would normal extract stories from old people about their youth and information about the various trades you saw about the place. Her inquisitive nature was better tolerated than either of her parents expected which was a relief for them.

Her father worked as a trader so he wasn’t around terribly much for much of her youth. His persistent absence is what led to the break down of her parents marriage. After spending so much time alone with her young daughter, Tumaril’s mother found comfort in the arms of their widower neighbour. The affair went of for years before her father caught on to what was happening. Their family became the souce of much gossip and slander. Out of anger and hurt, her father left the town and vowed never to return, and he took Tumaril with him. He did this partly to hurt her mother and partly he feared what living with such an immoral woman and with so much scandle going about would only serve to harm is precious daughter.

So from the age of 15, Tumaril lived at Azvon hold with her father who no longer needed to travel quite so much. She was happy and content with her father, but she still missed her mother and would occasionally sneak off to visit her (Her father was still too angry to openly permit this). Shortly after they moved, as a sort of apology for everything that had happened, her father presented her with three flitt eggs. One, was unfortunately a dud but the other two produced a healthy little green and a dark brown. Life since then tended to be pretty... average for Tumaril.

Then one day about six months ago, she was searched by a Blue from Southern. Things stopped being quite so average for Tumaril then. She easily settled into the life of a candidate, making good friends with a couple of the other candidates and was quite exciting to stand at the coming hatching with them. The hatching came and the hatching went and Tumaril remained a candidate. This left her with very mixed feelings. All of the candidates she had been close to had impressed, one girl even impressed the young Gold of the clutch. Tumaril was so happy for them, over joyed for them.

And horribly jealous of them. They tried to console her but their attempts where always interupted by their new life partners. She couldn't believe how intense her resentment for them was, she couldn't stand it. Only a couple of days after the hatching Tumaril transferred to a new Weyr. She wanted a fresh start. The Weyr of choice? Dark Moon Weyr.

Pets: Brown flitt Suoh and Green flitt Midori

[Minajerie]

Name: Andilay

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Rank: Sword For Hire/Candidate For DM

Dragon: N/A

Dragon Appearance: N/A

Dragon Personality: N/A

Appearance: She has long, chocolate brown hair that reaches to the small of her back. She tends to braid it and throw it down the back of her shirt, a habit from being a swordswoman. She has a handsome face, not beautiful, but not one you will easily forget either. She has lush lips that have a slight pout to them and dark green eyes with flecks of gold in them.
She is 6'1" with her height mostly in her legs. She has a conservative curve to her body, with her bosom not being overly generous. She keeps fit with her daily sword practice and tends to have a farmers tan from doing so. She has a scar on her right arm that travels from the front of her shoulder to her elbow and another diagonally cut across her abdomen just above her belly button.
She prefers to wear close fitting leathers in either black, red, or red brown. She keeps them tidy and well oiled for pliancy.


Personality: She keeps to herself, but that doesn't mean she is a recluse. Believe it or not, she is kind of shy around new people. If she notices something in common between herself and another she will latch onto it as a way to introduce herself and hopefully start a friendship. Once she has gotten to know the people around her she opens up.
Surprise! That once quiet woman is now a smiling, sarcastic, friendly person. She may even go out of her way to embarrass you in front of that special someone! "Hey!! This girl right her says your hotter than boiling klah! Maybe you should do somethin about that, huh?" She'll do it cause you may be too shy, or just because that look of pure embarrassment- because it's true- is just so amusing she can't help herself.
She's not rude though, she always tries to be polite and do the right thing, or as close to the right thing as she can come. Her father raised her right, and this daddy's girl will always remember it. However, sometimes she can be brutally blunt. It's one of her many quirks.

History: Andilay's father was an ex-rider. He had lost his dragon in the games, but still needing to support his family- he became a mercenary. Since he was the type to believe that his little girl should always be able to protect herself, he taught her how to use a sword.
It was her life and livelihood now.
Her father died when she was 13, despite the best efforts of her healer mother. Two turns later her mother found a new man. Not really getting along with him, and not being able to live in that atmosphere, she left.
She entered her father's secondary profession and became a mercenary, mostly for caravans and traders. Every now and then she protected a single person, but people with that kind of marks were few, and fewer still that would hire someone so young.
She always traveled light, her home being on her back, but she always had a small bag for a knife and piece of wood. Andilay was artistic. When she had time she would whittle or paint something, then sell it later for some extra marks. She was quite good, and her painted carvings always gave her a good sell.
In fact that is how she ended up meeting her partner, Rayn. The younger swordswoman has a soft spot for trinkets, though she was might handy with a sword. They made good partners and have been together for two and a half turns.
On the eave of her 19th turnday, they were leaving a favored tavern of some dragon riders and ran into their search dragons, who quickly sniffed them out as possible candidates. When asked if the two women would like to become dragonriders they both smiled and said it would be their next great adventure.

[Minajerie]

Name: Rayn

Age: 18

Gender: Female

Rank: Sword For Hire/ Candidate For DM

Dragon: N/A

Dragon Appearance: N/A

Dragon Personality: N/A

Appearance: She has firey red hair that she keeps short and sassy. It eases her worry for fighting since enemies wouldn't be able to get a good hand on it. She still loves playing with it though. She has lush lips (which tend to be in a half smile) and calm steel eyes. They are darker on the rings and smooth and lighter in the middle. She would have quite an adorable face if she didn't have a defining scar running through her left eyebrow and down to mid-cheek. As it stands, she still gets more men looking after her than she likes.
She is 5'7", so average in tallness. She has minor curves and a smaller than average bosom, but it works for her. She is very lithe and also has much of her height in her legs. She has a farmer's tan from working in the sun a lot and doing her exercises.

Personality: She is alway up beat. She loves to make others smile and laugh, normally when there is no one getting hurt. However, there have been a few persistent men who have been the exception. She is a good listener and will always try to give good advice if it is needed, and if it is not, there is always the shoulder to cry on, or the sword practice to exhaust your anger on.
She loves small things that are cute and have a lot of love in them. She has a soft spot for small animals and strays and always rescues them in hopes of finding good homes for them (which Andilay finds so they can have one less mouth to feed).
She is a sarcastic person, and enjoys playful banter.

History: Her father beat her when she was little and when she was 5 turns old she ran away from home. For a time she joined a small pack of thieves, but didn't like the taste of stealing from good folk.
When she was six she attached herself to a group of swords for hire that were passing by and begged to learn the trade. They tried to get rid of her at first, when she proved too stubborn they finally relented and taught her how to stay alive while protecting others. She learned quickly and became like an adopted daughter to the group. She was happy.
When she met Andilay when she was 15 and one half turns the group that raised her told her she should join the other swordswoman for a change of pase and a test of skills. She has been happily partnered with Andilay ever since.
On the eave of Andilay's 19th turnday, they were leaving a favored tavern of some dragon riders and ran into their search dragons, who quickly sniffed them out as possible candidates. When asked if the two women would like to become dragonriders they both smiled and said it would be their next great adventure.


Pets: She is currently harboring a small tortoise-shell brown/grey kitten that she carries in a pouch in her pants. She has named him Danny, and is quite fond of the little squirt.

Fun Facts: ~She got her scar on her second mission with Andilay. She wasn't paying attention when she was blind-sighted by a thief- he slashed at her, and if she had not been quick and tried to lean away from it, the man may have taken her eye.

~They are for hire for caravans or lord holders as long as the marks are fair and meals are partly or fully included.

[Shekru]

Name: Dhunen

Age: 18 Turns

Gender: Male

Rank: (Weyr) Candidate/Gopher

Appearance:
Dirty dishwater. What would probably have been blonde, were genetics kinder to him, ended up being dirty dishwater brown. It likely doesn't help that he wears it scraggly and longer than most boys his age. No uniformity for this one; his very presence yells 'Rebel', and the smudges of dirt that seem permanently ground into parts of his skin defy soap and logic both.

Judging by his height, his growth spurt hit early. Over six feet, give or take an inch or two, to assume his growing is nearing its end would not be amiss. Broad shoulders give way to toned arms, the line of his chest stout, yet not excessive. More torso than legs, but his feet touch the ground, least. Proportionally sound, it's his face that seems to set him apart from other men.

Beyond the lightest, softest golden hairs that dust his chin and upper lip, there isn't much by way of facial hair to falsely increase his age. Angular cheeks showcase gray-green eyes beneath brown eyebrows, the outer corners of which already show signs of creasing from use - either laughter or squinting against the sun's light. Square, his jawline is firm, yet the edge is somewhat softened by the almost defiantly slightly-pouty swell of his lips.

His attire is practical, if bland. Plain breeches stuffed into old black boots, and a handed-down jacket over an off-white tunic.

Personality:
Despite a crooked upbringing, Dhunen has always possessed an instinctual understanding of balance. What is right for one man to do to another, what can be taken, what should be given. While prone to teenaged fits of declaring life unfair, Dhunen accepts reason. Eventually.

Strong of will, one could call Dhunen a stone, and they would likely be right. Immobile on certain things, trying to convince him of facts that may be obvious to anyone but him, would be like squeezing a firestone and expecting it to ooze klah. Some things just -are-, and Dhunen has a very firm, very skewed view on what those things may be.

Around most people, he is a closed book. Closed, chained, and locked, actually. Something Dhunen struggles with is trusting people, especially those he spends prolonged time around. Having never been 'trained' in such social circles, he is awkward, and tends to default to 'aloof' to cover up his inability to communicate.

History:
There wasn't a time in his life that he wasn't moving. Everytime the wheels of the wagon stopped, it would only be for a day, or maybe even less. There was enough dirt up his nose to make a new road out of, and no matter how many farmer's blows he performed along the way, he could never quite get that grit all the way out.

It had been like this, though, for as long as he can remember. Day one, out of the womb and into the dust. Dust, dirt, rocks, dead grass, wheels. Moving, moving, moving. Oh, and stealing. That was the way of their 'people'. With a front of 'honest travelers' as their compass, they navigated their itchy fingers wherever, whenever. It was the first skill he picked up as a child, in fact. How to look cute and innocent and pick the pockets of anyone not minding their satchels well. It was his father's trade. His mother gave it up for a prolonged dirt nap shortly after she brought Dhunen screaming, full of piss and vinegar, into the world.

They were rovers. Vagrants, vagabonds, wayfarers, whatever name you wanted to tack on, it meant they called nowhere 'home'. By the age of ten, Dhunen had already seen more parts of Pern than most folk would in their lifetimes, though without turns or wisdom to appreciate the wonders of the land unfolding about him. It was just one more place he'd forget along the way, after all. Without a proper education, the books that lay collecting dust and stone in the wagons held secrets. Secrets that he had been denied. 'Education?', His father had laughed; 'The only education you're ever going to need, or get, is how to make this family wealthier by what you can get your hands on'.

That was the rule. If it didn't benefit the whole, it wasn't important. It was selfish.

During an age when most young people begin trying to wrestle with who they are, Dhunen's questions were never 'Who am I?' but 'Why can I not be satisfied with this like the others my age?'. Where the other boys and girls of the traveling band fell into step and marched to the beat of the drum like their parents and elders, Dhunen lagged. Two left feet were hard to march with, and it seemed that he had left feet in spades. Stumbling from one reason to the next.

'Why can I not be happy with what I have?'

Unlike the internal struggles of most, where change must come from within first and ripple outward, the actions of his ragged family were what ultimately pushed him into self-discovery.

A small Hold offered them shelter from a nasty storm that had turned the road to mush. Their wagons were stuck, and for the first time since Dhunen could recall, they stayed for longer than a day. In fact, they stayed a full seven.

While there was no holiday or cause for merriment, the Hold treated their sudden guests with great hospitality and open friendliness. What they had, they shared. The women were given use of the baths, the mens' weather-worn clothes were taken and patched. Kindness, in such abundance. It was alien to him, certainly. But it was far from unpleasant.

The day the roads cleared enough to leave, Dhunen felt divided. There was the family he knew, and the chance at a life in one place. Some say the grass is greener, and for Dhunen, any kind of grass was a welcome thing. It sure beat dirt and dust, and that's no lie.

They stayed on one night longer, and when early morning light began to throw white fingers up over the horizon, heck broke loose.

It was a mix of blood, and shouting, and the furious bellows of the Hold's Wher. The wagons sped from the Hold at top speed, the Runner's pushed as hard as they could go. Dragged along for the ride, to say Dhunen was confused would be to understate. Horribly.

In the wagon he'd been pulled into, a family was weeping. A woman and her daughter, cheeks red with grief. When he asked why they wept, he learned the truth behind their hasty get away.

The Hold's Wher had clutched, the vagrant leader had learned. A dozen eggs, already hardened and ready for transport. He had taken a group of men to the sands where the creature lay and while half of them distracted the Wher, the others began picking eggs off and hiding them in the wagons. They wept not for their gain, but for their loss. Several men had died during the raid. Some due to wounds the Wher inflicted, others due to spear and sword from Holders rushing to protect the clutch. Among them, the woman's husband and son.

Not every sinner gets a turning point.

When the caravan made camp that night, Dhunen packed his few, meager belongings and stole off into the mist. He walked. Night slid into day, and day again into night before he came upon any other signs of sentient life.

It was a small farm where herdbeasts were bred and sold. They let him stay on a few days. Dehydrated as he was, he needed the rest. When strength returned to him, he asked of his host where the nearest Hold was. The answer was a bit staggering. 'The Weyr's not far though. I think they're lookin' for Hands to work there, though. Might be worth lookin' to', the old man had said.

To the Weyr he went, refreshed, revitalized, and utterly clueless as to what may lie ahead for him. In the dying light of early evening, his feet carried him into the Weyr bowl. Of the things he expected upon entering the dragonhold, to be flattened by a blue dragon was not high on the list.

"He says you seem like the type that oughta stick around." A tall rider nearby had called out. A bewildered Dhunen stared at the man, mouth agape and likely looking a bit stupid. "What do you say, will you Stand?"

He could have sworn the word "Yes" that crept out of his mouth then was out of someone else's mouth. But it was he, Dhunen, that was handed a candidate's knot and shoved toward the candidate quarters.

Dragon/Wher: N/A

[panther]

Name:[/size] Ezieki (to become Ez'ki)
Gender:[/size] Male
Age:[/size] 19 Turns
Sexuality:[/size] Mainly heterosexual - but he makes exceptions =)
Rank:[/size] Weyr Candidate

Physical Description

[^**Pic^**]

As a refined man of good status, he is rarely seen wearing anything drab, or dull, everything is colourful, tasteful, and beautiful. He enjoys looking good, and abhors those days when he looks less than best.

He is fairly tall, stands at five foot eleven, making him quite a striking person, his features help with that too. Light skin, Red brown hair that is worn long, left loose and always perforated with accessories, clay brown eyes, lined by sharp brows, and fine features, he is strikingly attractive. Though his nose is a tad larger than regular, it suits his face, and is softened by a set jaw line.

He is lean, gently muscled – slightly feminine even in its distribution, unscarred, he is certainly not pale, but he rarely ever tans. Tall and naturally thin, he keeps great care of himself.

Personality

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Ezieki has no fear, some might say no sense as a result, but he sees no danger, and even if he does, he will do it regardless. He is brave beyond foolishness, often, on his days out of being schooled, he would climb an almost sheer cliff face to the bottom just because it was the most direct route of accessing a cove below. Even on days he was supposed to be schooled, his tutor might find Ezieki taking a break, and nursing a cool drink whilst basking in the Rukbat’s rays at the very top of the northern tower’s roof top. Simply explained by Ezieki, ‘for it was the place with the greatest availability.’

He is brave, foolhardy, but brave. He has no qualms in opposing someone, even if that one is a one who should be feared for power or their temper. Ezieki refuses to lower himself for anyone. He thinks that he is as good as everyone else, and better than most. So why should he be humble before someone? Humility is not something he is terribly good at.

Often, Ezieki finds himself rather the joker, mainly because he can use this to subtly imply things, within humour, but cunningly manages to get across his point. He is downright cheeky at times, and can be highly persuasive, and he does use it to his benefit, making sure that he gets what he wants from the situation. Though most find his audacious nature overbearing, it is possibly one of his most endearing traits.

Conversely to this, his level off arrogance generally turns people away, as mentioned before, he likes to think himself rather grand. He carries himself, and dresses himself lavishly, as a sign that screams he is not afraid to stand out, nay, he enjoys the attention. He tends to ignore the opinions of others, especially if he thinks them below himself, because how could they know better than he? After all.

Things like this can easily anger him, especially if the person he deems as lower than him actually has a point, which is gradually coming to light, this is one of the easiest ways to piss him off. He hates being proved wrong, and will rarely ever admit defeat, be it a minor or major, his pride stands far greater between them.
His temper is not often flared, for he is lazy, and it requires a great deal of effort to deal with a person correctly when he’s angered. But with regard to his pride, and his emotions, his anger can be quick to flare. On sparse occasions, he gets angered to the point where his words become stiff, and he finds it immensely hard to express himself. Angering him further.

He is passionate about very few things. But where emotion lies, he is very persistent. His emotions are one thing that drives him, and he is slave to them above anything.

His organisation is incredibly lacking, he cannot organise anything to save his life, his efforts are half-hearted, and even less thought through. Though his ideas might be good, he generally isn’t allowed to see through with the plans. Fortunately this is masked by his ability to shirk responsibility, or as he would say – to delegate.

His words and methods can be incredibly harsh, to the point of ruthless as a task manager though. He has very little concern unless the project is complete. His ruthlessness extends outside of managing people too.

Ezieki can be incredibly malicious, to the point of vindictive, and he is not a man you would wish to stand against, an eloquent tongue and ties with. And, he is far from quick to forget a past misdoing, it is something he will not let o until he thinks it has been settled, and he isn’t always one to support friendship over adversity in these instances.

Pig headed is one way to describe him, his mule-like stubbornness is something well grafted into his gene pool from both his mother and father, neither will relent until they have what they want, or have reached a compromise (that favours them).

He likes to take life at a gracious pace, a slow to dawdling even, he is highly effective at procrastinating, he can easily push onto the long finger a task that he knows needs to be done with little if any remorse.

An easy life has allowed him to be relaxed in everything, despite his great intelligence he is not expected to achieve a great deal because he cannot motivate himself. Despite this, he always seems to achieve the necessary. He will always pass any test put before him. Whether this is due to luck, or some other god, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t question either.

The Harper – Mifilil – she always worries on his behalf, she – though rather young herself – is well aware that Ezieki does not study, that he has the potential to be great if he just exerted the tiniest piece of effort. But, she cannot find a single way to motivate him, even bribery or threats do not work, because he is not of a personality to fall for such meaningless authority’s methods.

His thoughts and procedures are all very uncouth and unorthodox, he will not take the same route as anyone would suggest, but he will take an odd path that will lead him to the same conclusions as most. This for Mifilil is confounding. She cannot follow her pupil’s methods, but does not question them, for they obviously work!

His way with words is just another thing that confuses people, he – because of his excellent tutelage – is deft with his words. And easily ties people in knots with them, he enjoys it.

He is a very flamboyant person in a crowd, very outgoing, and very self assured, he knows what he is, and he thrives on it. He is vain. Incredibly so, and will make sure he is never caught dead wearing something hideous, which is a great deal of things. His riches have allowed him this, and he enjoys looking fine, and glorious.

And because he knows he looks good, he is not afraid to flaunt this fact, it is allowed to go to his head, and the looks and words, and attention is all something that strokes his ego.

Background

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He was born the second eldest son of a wealthy trader of Azvon Hold, one of three siblings, he was the middle child. His mother doted upon him, exceptionally so. She made sure that his every whim was catered for, giving him a mild complex, where he will only ever accept the best around him, this further materialised into his personality with regards to how Ezieki treats himself. His Vanity probably the largest expression of this childhood treatment.

Colour and love for himself, this was something pressed upon him as a child, he and his mother were incredibly close, he became her 'golden' child, his father doted upon his elder brother, though was strict with all of his other siblings, whilst his mother doted upon him, and his youngest sister.

The father of the three siblings was always a hard working man who sought to make the best for his family, and get the best out of his children. Because of this, and his determination to get the eldest of the boys up to speed with accounts and ready to take over the family business, any to all of his free time was consumed throughout Ezieki's childhood by taking care of this issue, training his brother, Rikovor.

His elder brother, Rikovor, was someone Ezieki had a great deal of respect for, and a man Ezieki envied, because Rikovor seemed to have everything gifted to him upon a gilded platter. However the two had a great relationship as children, but as Ezieki entered his teens, and Rikovor turned fifteen, the pair became distant, almost as though they were not brothers at all. More like acquaintances, distanced over time. Their personalities were similar once, but as they grew, and their father and mother took to his brother and he, respectively, and molding them, they have become like chalk and cheese, not one trait in common ground.

With regards to Jisier, his youngest sister, by three turns, Ezieki is incredibly close with her still, and immensely protective over her, perhaps because he knows all too well what males of his age, and slightly younger are like. She may try to shun him, but she adores both of her brothers, and is possibly the only subject he and Rikovor can converse upon.

However as the second son, he wasn’t overly concerned about his status, and never gained any ambition to a great degree, laziness set in from a young age, as his mother doted on him, and had their servants do anything and everything for the child. His father was often heard telling Ezieki (when in his presence) that he was a disappointment, especially through his teenage years.

At the age of seven turns, his slightly elder cousin came to live with them, after the tragic death of his aunt, Danae, a slightly unusual girl, and he clicked rather well, despite being incredibly dissimilar in many, many respects. The pair grew quite close for a long time.

just before his twelfth turn, Danae was taken away from him, for on a family trip to the northern hold (here his trader father trying to strengthen his relations in the north), she impressed upon a golden wher, and he has seen very little of her since.

It was around then he was forced into education, his father found him far too lazy, and as soon as he hit twelve, he pushed Ezieki into private tutorage. Mifilil took care of him for scholar-y works and with Cenidian for harsher physical training.

He got on well with Mifilil, timid as she was, he embarrassed her and harassed her, but the pair over all got on well, with an odd system of respect present between them.

Ezieki always took to his tasks like a duck to water, when she managed to motivate him, always managed to understand and comprehend everything put before him, he could debate an issue with eloquence and grace, and solve maths problems with ease. He did occasionally struggle with music based subjects, being rather tone deaf.

Cenidian, on the other hand, was a great deal harsher than Mifilil, but he would make Ezieki work, and work hard. It is because of Cenidian that Ezieki is just as graceful as he is. Cenidian taught Ezieki of hard, manual skills, some of which he succeeds at profoundly more than others.

Ezieki is rather very much a social creature, and thrives around others, he likes to be the centre of attention, and he has the guts to pull it off rather well.

His antics when out - have often reached back to the ears of his father, for which he has often been greatly punished for, the worst of which was brought upon Ezieki in retribution. His father took him with him, on a business trip, it was something Ezieki was reluctant to do, but his father encouraged him, and forced him along. It was then his father introduced him to a girl, a girl Ezieki had intimately known before this meeting, his father then decided to lie to Ezieki about the f act the girl was pregnant, and that if his father ever caught who got her pregnant He would string them, or force them into fatherhood. Naturally this got Ezieki into a panic. His own father then proceeded to dictate as to why he thought Ezieki would never do these things, about how Ezieki was a harmless flirt. At this stage Ezieki was sweating bullets, and gradually owned up to his father, that he might have sired that child... His father then lead off into a long and loud dictator’s speech to his son, publically. Telling the boy that he would have to face up to his misdoings, and that he would make a father, and would have to right his erroneous path by making good with the child. That it was fortuitous that the child’s mother was another of the richer families of the hold. That how Ezieki would have to make a good father to the child. Gradually filling him in upon the responsibilities- his father upheld these talks for an entire seven day – got the whole family in on the event. Ezieki, naturally was despairing at how his life would be miserable, and that he would have to work, earn a wage, support a family.

Finally his family opened him in on the secret, that he was not going to be a father, and that it was all a method of making him think next time before he got involved with someone. Ezieki sulked for about a month after this, though it did put a stop to his antics for about a month after that, he gradually slipped back into his cad-like ways, though he was a little more discreet about them from then on.

It's a tale he never discusses, for he finds it an incredible embarrassment that he actually fell for such a ploy.

He has never been given an amount of responsibility. His mother never seen fit for him to be tried, or tested in any way.

On a trip with his father - Ezieki was Searched for candidacy, by the green rider G'tet.

After spending a few months as a candidate with no hatching, Ezieki got bored of chores very quickly. He found himself slipping off, not doing his duties, getting in trouble. It was all a slippery slope downwards, the more time he spent away from the chores, the more friends he made, and the more reasons he had to stay away from the chores.

But the straw that broke the runners back, was when he was found - after a rather extravagant plot by one of the other candidates - who had taken a rather strong disliking to young Ezieki who flourished in every way the other boy failed - Ez was found to have a rather well valued item of the other boys in with his own belongings.

And so, Candidacy in Telgar Weyr was over. What would he do now? Fortunately I'dalyn - the candidate master at the time - was quite friendly with the young lad, and well I'dalyn told him to go to the Weyr closest to his home, Dark Moon Weyr. He said he would give a character reference that would allow him entry, and permission to stand for the hatching there. Ezieki thanked him greatly, but I'dalyn went one better - he and Diasulyth flew Ezieki to the weyr via the between. Ezieki hated the between, it was so cold, so numbing.

Thanking I'dalyn as much as he could, he set out to find someone to accept his papers.


((Note: picture is not mine, I disclaim anything and everything to do with it, it just gives a very nice illustration as to how my character looks, and dresses. All credit goes to Heise on deviantart ))

[Xennai]

Name: Salina
("solemn")

Gender: Female

Age: Seventeen Turns

Rank: Candidate



Physical Description


She's small, delicate and very fragile-looking. She stands at an extremely petite 5'1" with long legs for her small frame. Her skin is pale, almost pure white, with the faintest hint of cream to make her look less like someone who has recently drowned. She looks very solemn and could be compared to a late night winter snow-clean, pure and always so quiet. Her big gray eyes are like smoke, always staring and absorbing-just as quiet and unsettled in her heart-shaped face as before. Her hair falls in a long, gentle golden waves to the very middle of her back. She is a naturally graceful girl, one who is likely to become almost perfectly so in years to come. She wears simple clothes in neutral colors and when it comes down to it, pastels. When she finds something of interest, something that truly pleases her, she lights up with life and looks like an entirely different person. She's very curvy for someone so petite. Her chest and hips are of an average size, but her waist is so thin that it makes her look almost out of balance. It's something she's more than slightly insecure about and can't help but notice when with other females. She's also noticed that her left eyes is slightly smaller than her right and her eyelid droops a bit more. The things a girl notices...


Personality


She's quiet, demure, with an iron will beneath it. She didn't face much hardship in her life, but that simple and fulfilling dragon-filled life has instilled in her a rock-solid foundation that could never be shaken. Or so she hopes. She's a force of nature within herself when unleashed-which, undoubtedly, it takes a lot to release. She's patient and kind, never fading or losing grip, like a rock in the middle of the river. It's taken years of practice to become this way. She's modest and humble, not to the point where she'd become a little mouse of a girl, but neither is she cocky and arrogant. She is perhaps too calm at times, a little too emotionless--she used to be called Monotone because of this--, but really only around strangers.

She's never fully comfortable in herself, always thinking that someone is watching her and critiquing her every move. She's gotten to the point where she trusts easily, but not well. Doubts plague her mind and she often wonders what the true intentions of the people surrounding her are. She expresses her emotions, those that aren't revealed easily, only to her closest friends. She has wished desperately since she was very young to become a rider, but does not think herself worthy of becoming the bonded of the golden creature that all girls try to bond with. Underneath the fragile and solemn exterior is an untapped source of something, a something that runs hot and passionate. It's slipped through in temper, in small fits of passion, but has never been fully unleashed. It scares and invigorates her whenever it does slip through. She feels alive and human those few moments before slipping back into the familiar facade. It is a facade.

Salina has never had something tremendous happen that would tear that serenity apart.When that veil is finally torn, a whole new person will emerge, still with her unflappable calm and patience, but hot-blooded with that innate strength in full evidence. It is thought, especially by herself, that that calm and patience will return, but having no real experience with it, she's still not sure on what her metamorphosis might bring. A butterfly or a moth?


Background



She lived a very simple and full life. She was the daughter of a woman who had stayed at the Weyr after not being accepted at a hatching and a bluerider who had been looking for some companionship. It's said that her calm nature stems from her sire's bond with his blue. She didn't know either of her parents very well. Her father was a rider and she didn't know him. He'd just come. Her relationship with her mother was nearly nonexistent as well. It's said that her mother didn't want a babe planted in her belly and the minute that Salina had been born, she passed her off to one of the resident softies, a woman who took in any children a woman didn't want to have. Salina grew up in the care of Mother Terri and her constantly changing brood.

Whatever the case of her parenting, as she ran through the caverns of Telgar, she became known as the little mother of her friends; bandaging knees, getting food and drink and other such little everyday things. The nickname especially came into effect when her best friend, Remmo, got into a brawl with a much older boy. After the fight was over, Salina calmly stepped in and led Remmo away, washing the blood from his face and ordering him to lie down while she got some food and bandages. She was only eight turns. She grew into the solemn girl she is and was always surrounded by and loved dragons. At Dark Moon, she decided to put herself forward for a clutch for the first time and has since become a candidate.

[Minajerie]

Name: Sleyer (S'yer)

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Rank: Candidate/ Metal Smith (Journeyman)

Appearance: He has long black hair that reaches to his mid-lower back. Since he works with a forge, he keeps it in a bound tail and when he is working on particularly difficult pieces he will throw it down the back of his tunic. He has clear sapphire blue eyes, and a ruggedly good looking appearance. He has a burn on the right side of his forehead from when he was an apprentice and careless with hot things. He is terribly tall at 6'0" and he is afraid to admit he may still be growing. He has most of his height in his legs and is well muscled as smith's tend to be. He is lightly tan from going back and forth from shade and sun almost all day, since he gets hot easily he wears only a sleeveless shirt as he works, so he has a few burns on his arms as well from flying hot dibree.

Personality: He tends to be the strong silent type. He doesn't particularly like to talk. He can, very well, and perhaps that's why he doesn't. He has what the women folk call, 'a dreamy voice'. That, mixed with his looks, makes him very popular when he doesn't want to be. So unless someone wants something from his forge, or has a question pertaining to his work, he doesn't like to talk to them. He will probably listen though.

He's vain about his hair and doesn't like to cut it. He and his mother were both devastated when it had caught on fire when he was 11, making him have to cut it. He is starting to think that he may have to cut it again, as much as he is loathe to do it.

He likes to read and play around with the metal of his shop. He's very creative and perhaps that's why he is a metal prodigy. He just soaks up information like a sponge, and then puts it to use.


History: He was always a strong and silent child, preferring to hang out and watch the forges than go out to play with the other children. It was no surprise to his parents when he told them he wanted to be a blacksmith. Even though his father had hoped he would have wanted to become a Harper like himself, blacksmith was an honorable profession, and it was what he loved. And he was terribly good at it. So good in fact the called him Sleyer the Metal Prodigy. His master from the hall was soooo proud of him, as where his parents.

When he was half past 16 turns he bought a homey shop and forge. It wasn't too far from his parents, for which they were grateful. Even though he was still a journeyman, he wanted his own place to call home.

When he was 17 he began to hang out with his neighboring craftsman Verdann. He couldn't help liking him, even if they rarely talked. He listened a lot, or they both just relaxed in silence. Somehow, they were good, no, best friends. When he had turned 18 and on his verge of mastery, Verdann had come to talk, and a green dragon landed right beside him knocking him down. When he came closer to see if Verdann was alright the dragon stuck her head in the half door in his shop- her snout a mere few inches from his face. Surprisingly he didn't flinch. The dragon had decided they were both prime search material for Dark Moon Weyr and wanted them to come with her. Since he was finished with his work, and he knew there may be more at the weyr, he agreed.

Pets: None

Dragon/Wher: N/A

Dragon/Wher Appearance: N/A

Dragon/Wher Personality: N/A

[Minajerie]

Name: Verdann (Becomes V'dann)

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Rank: Candidate/ Woodcrafter

Appearance: He has messy, silver blond hair that he tends to try to put in a small tail at the nape of his neck. He has bright green eyes and a charming smile. He is sweet guy next door handsome, so he stands out, and yet he doesn't. He is 5'11" and is still a growing boy. He has a medium dark tan since he prefers to work out in the sun. And he has a rather thin frame- though, he has muscles (he kinda needs them) they are the wiry kind.

Personality: Verdann is an easy going guy. He is one of those people who attracts friends easily, and loves to hang out with them. Since he is a good listener, many people come to him to tell their woes. When he can, he gives them advice, but more often are his friends happy just to simply unburden themselves with things they thought they could tell no one else. Of course, Verdann always keeps their secrets. He is not the type of person to blab them out to any tom, dick, or tracy. He keeps them safe inside as tokens of trust. However, he does have a little bug in his personality, he's curious. He loves to explore and sometimes may be gone for a couple days because he got 'lost'. He goes alone unless he can drag one of his friends along- which isn't often. As one of those people who like to laugh, he enjoys those kinds of people that can make him laugh. He loves it when he finds people with good senses of humor.

History: His mother died giving birth to him, despite the healers best efforts. As he grew up his father loved him greatly, his coloring so much like his mother's. He was allowed to do anything he wished, but what he ended up doing was watching his father work in his workshop. He enjoyed how his father could turn something so ordinary as a block of wood into a beautiful chair or table. He wanted to transform things too. So he became his father's apprentice.

When he was 12 his father came down with a sickness, and unsure what to do, Verdann seeked a healer. She was a very good healer, and was determined not to lose this man like she had her husband a year before. His father got better and fell in love with the healer, and when they got married and moved in together, Verdann followed. He's told he has a older sister out there, somewhere, but he doesn't know what she looks like, seeing as how his new mother doesn't talk about her much. **His sister in law is Andilay, the sword for hire. He does not know her, or she him, because she did not stick around for very long after her mother started to spend more time with Verdann's father.**

When he was 17 he was talking to his friend, Sleyer, as he(Sleyer) worked in his smithy when a green dragon landed literally right beside him, gave him a quick sniffing and a draconic nod before sticking her neck inside the smithy to peer at his friend. Apparently the green had done this all without giving her rider much of a heads up, seeing as how the man was pretty ruffled. She had landed so violently because she had sensed good candidates, and wanted them at her weyr. So Verdann agreed and his friend did too. After all, they heard that the weyr had quite a bit of hurricane damage. If anything, if it didn't work out, they could always work.

Pets: N/A

Dragon/Wher: N/A

Dragon/Wher Appearance: N/A

Dragon/Wher Personality: N/A