Post by lyricalblue on Feb 16, 2006 22:09:57 GMT -5
Character Information
Name: A'zon from Arazon
Gender:male
Age/Birthday: 53, midwinter (born turn 2355)
Sexual Orientation: heterosexual
Location: Lateo Weyr
Rank/Wing: Sidius Wingsecond
Standing:
He says if the Holds want nothing of the Weyrs then thats all they should get. Proud of his standing as a dragonrider he is quick to see any slight a holder might say against the Weyr.
Family:
A'zon's entire family died in a fire when he was 15 turns. His Weyrmate Tasare died in a cave-in in the lowest level of the Weyr. His only living family member is his daughter Chani. She is 17 turns and is a candidate.
Pets: none
Appearance:
Tall, dark and handsome basically sums him up. Standing at 6 ‘2, A'zon is a formidable figure indeed. His hair is ebon black and cropped so short it stands up on end. From head to toe, he is all muscle but as thin as a whip cord and often as violent as one. He has a strong jaw and broad forehead leaving no one to question his masculinity.
When he walks, it is the confident stride of one who knows he should rule all he sees.
His face is always clean shaven, for he hates the feeling of hair, the rest of him is too almost always this spotlessly clean as he very thorough in his bathing. On many occasion Miroth has complained that A'zon spends more time cleaning himself than the dragon.
Although handsome his countenance is one that more strikes disquietude than appreciation. A full mouth is often drawn down in a frown and his dark, nearly black eyes betray nothing.
Personality:
He is dark, mind body and soul. They say the dragons always choose the right rider, but this time the saying is in question. Not a soul knows why A’zon acts like he does, but they all console themselves with the idea that “there is always one in every hold” and “every family has a bad egg”. However this talk has only fueled that raging fire and driven the man farther back into his shell.
But despite this darkness, there is something about A’zon that draws people to him. His charisma is such that very few try to upset him and even fewer try to rebel against him. For A’zon is a brilliant man, such that many have said it was wasted on one such as himself. But none the less he is brilliant and will often see things that no other can, a talent that makes his darkness ignorable.
The only thing in the world he has ever opened up to is Miroth, his elegant Bronze dragon. And his Miroth is as light in character as A’zon is dark. And you would not be the first to look at them and say that dragon was the only reason A’zon was still sane.
History:
Silver waves lapped up upon the shore and a lone boy sat in the fading light, his voice, a wonderful, heart filled tenor reached out across the waves. A huge tower of flame lights his back, a hold or what was a hold is alight with fire. The boy, eyes bright with tears look down, his hands, bloody and scratched hold tightly only a pendant, a ebon dragon. The likes of which is rarely seen, for the craftsmanship is so fine. He lifts his voice again to the twin moons and as if conjured by him a small ship drifts over the horizon. After a few hours the ship pulls into the sandy shallows and a dozen men leap over the side and rush up to they boy. One, bearing a Captain’s knot on his arms gazes upon the ruined hold for a long, quiet while, then his eyes wet with tears look down to the boy.
“Who are you son.” The nameless song stopped and dark, cold eyes locked with the Captain’s. Those eyes, they were so cold, so dark, so unlike a child’s the man had to suppress a shiver. “Son?”
“I am alone, they are all gone.” He looked back out to sea and began to hum again, this time the tune was darker than before Just then a great keen filled the air and all the men looked upwards, a lone Bronze dragon soared above their heads. But all knew the rider would not land, this tiny hold was one of many that had suffered much the same fate in the last few years. The boy watched the great winged beast disappear into the fading light. Then he turned back to the ocean.
“Son, what’s your name.”
“I don’t have a name.” The Captain’s eyes clouded, all boys had names, the fire must have done terrible things to him, and it looked like he was the only survivor.
“Men, spread out, find what you can?” Silently the crew disappeared into the ruins that were no longer on fire. Looking for anything, anyone that could tell them what happened. The Captain hoped they would find another survivor other than this boy, but that fire had burned so hot and so long, that he doubted very much that anything would be found.
“Do you know who that dragon was?”
“No.”
“That was Arazoth of R’len. So for now, we will call you Arazon, sound good.” The boy, was far away again, eyes locked on the ocean. The Captain followed his gaze, just where the setting sun met the sea, the horizon, but the normal golds, read and purples were muted tonight. It was all that awful smoke. He looked back to the boy as the humming began again. Who was he?
A warm light lit the Harper Hall, it was late, and only two were still awake, the only two in all of Pern, the Harper thought. He ran a hand tiredly through his light brown hair and gazed at the Captain who sat across from him. He played at the baliset in his lap absently.
“You say you found the lad at an abandoned hold?’
“Not abandoned, burnt down. There were no other survivors and we don’t know what to do with him.” The Captain glanced to the closed door that led to the infirmary. The boy lay there, sound asleep.
“His name is Arazon, please Telly, we can’t do anything with the boy.” The Harper nodded absently.
“Alright, alright, we will look after him.” The notes of the baliset drifted through the hall and the Harper Tellano smiled quietly at the sound eyes closed for a moment before looking back up into the Captain’s worried ones.
“We can take the boy.” The Captain stood up and bowed deeply to the Harper.
“Thank you Telly thank you.” With that he strode out of the hall, a swaying sea swept figure.
A rap on the door, let Telly know the boy was here, he swung around in his chair and placed the baliset down on the desk.
“Enter.” A tall, dark lad stepped into the room. He would have been very handsome if it wasn’t for that perpetual frown thought the Master Harper. He gestured for the boy, nay, the young man to sit down. Arazon was 16 now.
“Ara, you’ve been found on Search, do you understand what that means?”
“Yessir.” Telly nodded, that was about the only thing Arazon had ever said to him, that and “nosir”
“Good, you will be going to Lateo Weyr immediately. Mind your teachers there and do this Hall proud.
“You have ten minutes to pack then the dragon will be here to collect you.”
“Yessir.”
The sands burned his feet through the thin sandals, but Ara did not move, his eyes were set on the great eyes of the Queen dragon. There was no Queen egg this time, but many had hoped that the next flight would bring about the new gold they needed so badly. But Ara really could have cared less and he began to hum a familiar tune, he had always known it, but had never known it’s origin. Memories of flames ripped through his mind and his hand reached up and grasped the pendant tightly. Then the dragons began to hum and eggs started to rock to and fro. His eyes focused on one. It was a creamy white flecked with brown like all the others. But this one was much larger than the others. Several rocked and hatched. Blues and Greens quickly found their lifemates. Then Ara’s favorite began to rock and the young man held his breath. A crack and then a foreleg showed, it was a dark brown/black and wet with goo from the egg. He stood stalk-still, unable to move a muscle. The Bronze shook himself off and proved to be as dark a color as he first appeared.
Slowly and awkwardly the dragon made his way forward to the boy whose eyes for the first time in his life showed any emotion at all.
I am Miroth. The words they were so incredibly beautiful, tears began to run down his cheeks and Arazon grasped the dragon tightly around the neck. The feeling of the dragon’s mind linked to his was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was so wonderful, so incredible. A wave of loved flooded his mind as his arms held to the neck of the dragon. This is good. Thus Arazon became A'zon
Three years later Miroth flew a Green for the first time and unlikely as it was, A'zon fell head over heals for the rider. Hetril was bright and open, but while her dragon was only to happy to accomodated Miroth, her intrests lay elsewhere. She was deeply in love with a young weaver in the lower caverns. Tasare was a captivating, if frustrating woman and as life would have it wanted nothing to do with Hetril. The Weaver pressed A'zon on several occasions to no avail.
So, one warm summer night the three of them found each other and nine months later Tasare gave birth to Chani. It was obvious who's son she was and Hetril broke off all contact with both lovers.
When Chani was fifteen, Tasare was killed in a cave in. And A'zon, despite not getting along with nearly anyone was a loving father. He finally bought her a fire lizard and the love for the pet helped her to get over her mother's death.
But both have had a hard time coping and as A'zon withdrew and became even more disagreeable, Chani went on to be brightly open, using all the charisma she had inherited from her father.
He worked in Lateo, earning wingsecond after the fromer holder of the position retired. Since that moment, running the wing has been his life and A'zon burried himself in that to the exlusion of nearly everything else.
Dragon Information
Name:Miroth
Color: Bronze
Age: 37 turns
Description:
Miroth is small for a bronze dragon reaching just over 40 feet from nose to tail and his wingspan is comparable to his size. His hide is extremely dark, the color black Klah; however, it has a rich shade to it and darkens still more around his underbelly and joints. Mir has a regal look about him and carries himself as such. Like his rider, he looks to be the epitome of males, with a strong broad chest and well muscled legs.
His wings are long and sails unusually wide, this gives him the strength to fly Golds in mating and makes him an asset on long flights. Sleek and seemingly well muscled at the same time Miroth is a looker of a dragon indeed.
Personality:
He is as steady as a rock, firm in his loves and in life. For a dragon he has an unusually long memory. He is the rock in a stormy ocean. True to the nature of Bronze dragons, he is very blatant and strong willed. Really like the famed knights of old earth. He likes nothing better than to drip honeyed compliments over a gold and can't understand why it bothers his rider so much.
Calm and dignified, observant, and prone to offering his opinion to his rider, Miroth is almost always a boone.
History:
Miroth found A'zon immediately at Impression and there life has been reflected of such ever since. They share a very close bond and little escapes one or the other. Both passed through Weyrling training roughly, despite their obvious talent, A'zon's tendency to stray and his lack of cooperation with other rider landed them at the bottom of their class.
Despite the fact that Miroth is large enough to fly a Queen and no doubt could if he wanted to, the bronze has only flown in Green flights and is famous for pulling unheard of maneuvers. Going between is almost banned in flights for the danger of it, Miroth however, calmly ignores this. His favorite is a maneuver A'zon calls the "Shot Wherry". Miroth will gain as much height as he can above a flight, then wait till he is above his goal and drop, like a stone. Closing his wings completely until he is nearly on top of the female. He snaps his wings open and grabs ahold of the green then pushes her down and out of the chase before really slowing his decent. Even as he ages the Bronze shows no sign of letting up.
Clutch: Bronze Zarmith and Gold Ulmerath
Name: A'zon from Arazon
Gender:male
Age/Birthday: 53, midwinter (born turn 2355)
Sexual Orientation: heterosexual
Location: Lateo Weyr
Rank/Wing: Sidius Wingsecond
Standing:
He says if the Holds want nothing of the Weyrs then thats all they should get. Proud of his standing as a dragonrider he is quick to see any slight a holder might say against the Weyr.
Family:
A'zon's entire family died in a fire when he was 15 turns. His Weyrmate Tasare died in a cave-in in the lowest level of the Weyr. His only living family member is his daughter Chani. She is 17 turns and is a candidate.
Pets: none
Appearance:
Tall, dark and handsome basically sums him up. Standing at 6 ‘2, A'zon is a formidable figure indeed. His hair is ebon black and cropped so short it stands up on end. From head to toe, he is all muscle but as thin as a whip cord and often as violent as one. He has a strong jaw and broad forehead leaving no one to question his masculinity.
When he walks, it is the confident stride of one who knows he should rule all he sees.
His face is always clean shaven, for he hates the feeling of hair, the rest of him is too almost always this spotlessly clean as he very thorough in his bathing. On many occasion Miroth has complained that A'zon spends more time cleaning himself than the dragon.
Although handsome his countenance is one that more strikes disquietude than appreciation. A full mouth is often drawn down in a frown and his dark, nearly black eyes betray nothing.
Personality:
He is dark, mind body and soul. They say the dragons always choose the right rider, but this time the saying is in question. Not a soul knows why A’zon acts like he does, but they all console themselves with the idea that “there is always one in every hold” and “every family has a bad egg”. However this talk has only fueled that raging fire and driven the man farther back into his shell.
But despite this darkness, there is something about A’zon that draws people to him. His charisma is such that very few try to upset him and even fewer try to rebel against him. For A’zon is a brilliant man, such that many have said it was wasted on one such as himself. But none the less he is brilliant and will often see things that no other can, a talent that makes his darkness ignorable.
The only thing in the world he has ever opened up to is Miroth, his elegant Bronze dragon. And his Miroth is as light in character as A’zon is dark. And you would not be the first to look at them and say that dragon was the only reason A’zon was still sane.
History:
Silver waves lapped up upon the shore and a lone boy sat in the fading light, his voice, a wonderful, heart filled tenor reached out across the waves. A huge tower of flame lights his back, a hold or what was a hold is alight with fire. The boy, eyes bright with tears look down, his hands, bloody and scratched hold tightly only a pendant, a ebon dragon. The likes of which is rarely seen, for the craftsmanship is so fine. He lifts his voice again to the twin moons and as if conjured by him a small ship drifts over the horizon. After a few hours the ship pulls into the sandy shallows and a dozen men leap over the side and rush up to they boy. One, bearing a Captain’s knot on his arms gazes upon the ruined hold for a long, quiet while, then his eyes wet with tears look down to the boy.
“Who are you son.” The nameless song stopped and dark, cold eyes locked with the Captain’s. Those eyes, they were so cold, so dark, so unlike a child’s the man had to suppress a shiver. “Son?”
“I am alone, they are all gone.” He looked back out to sea and began to hum again, this time the tune was darker than before Just then a great keen filled the air and all the men looked upwards, a lone Bronze dragon soared above their heads. But all knew the rider would not land, this tiny hold was one of many that had suffered much the same fate in the last few years. The boy watched the great winged beast disappear into the fading light. Then he turned back to the ocean.
“Son, what’s your name.”
“I don’t have a name.” The Captain’s eyes clouded, all boys had names, the fire must have done terrible things to him, and it looked like he was the only survivor.
“Men, spread out, find what you can?” Silently the crew disappeared into the ruins that were no longer on fire. Looking for anything, anyone that could tell them what happened. The Captain hoped they would find another survivor other than this boy, but that fire had burned so hot and so long, that he doubted very much that anything would be found.
“Do you know who that dragon was?”
“No.”
“That was Arazoth of R’len. So for now, we will call you Arazon, sound good.” The boy, was far away again, eyes locked on the ocean. The Captain followed his gaze, just where the setting sun met the sea, the horizon, but the normal golds, read and purples were muted tonight. It was all that awful smoke. He looked back to the boy as the humming began again. Who was he?
A warm light lit the Harper Hall, it was late, and only two were still awake, the only two in all of Pern, the Harper thought. He ran a hand tiredly through his light brown hair and gazed at the Captain who sat across from him. He played at the baliset in his lap absently.
“You say you found the lad at an abandoned hold?’
“Not abandoned, burnt down. There were no other survivors and we don’t know what to do with him.” The Captain glanced to the closed door that led to the infirmary. The boy lay there, sound asleep.
“His name is Arazon, please Telly, we can’t do anything with the boy.” The Harper nodded absently.
“Alright, alright, we will look after him.” The notes of the baliset drifted through the hall and the Harper Tellano smiled quietly at the sound eyes closed for a moment before looking back up into the Captain’s worried ones.
“We can take the boy.” The Captain stood up and bowed deeply to the Harper.
“Thank you Telly thank you.” With that he strode out of the hall, a swaying sea swept figure.
A rap on the door, let Telly know the boy was here, he swung around in his chair and placed the baliset down on the desk.
“Enter.” A tall, dark lad stepped into the room. He would have been very handsome if it wasn’t for that perpetual frown thought the Master Harper. He gestured for the boy, nay, the young man to sit down. Arazon was 16 now.
“Ara, you’ve been found on Search, do you understand what that means?”
“Yessir.” Telly nodded, that was about the only thing Arazon had ever said to him, that and “nosir”
“Good, you will be going to Lateo Weyr immediately. Mind your teachers there and do this Hall proud.
“You have ten minutes to pack then the dragon will be here to collect you.”
“Yessir.”
The sands burned his feet through the thin sandals, but Ara did not move, his eyes were set on the great eyes of the Queen dragon. There was no Queen egg this time, but many had hoped that the next flight would bring about the new gold they needed so badly. But Ara really could have cared less and he began to hum a familiar tune, he had always known it, but had never known it’s origin. Memories of flames ripped through his mind and his hand reached up and grasped the pendant tightly. Then the dragons began to hum and eggs started to rock to and fro. His eyes focused on one. It was a creamy white flecked with brown like all the others. But this one was much larger than the others. Several rocked and hatched. Blues and Greens quickly found their lifemates. Then Ara’s favorite began to rock and the young man held his breath. A crack and then a foreleg showed, it was a dark brown/black and wet with goo from the egg. He stood stalk-still, unable to move a muscle. The Bronze shook himself off and proved to be as dark a color as he first appeared.
Slowly and awkwardly the dragon made his way forward to the boy whose eyes for the first time in his life showed any emotion at all.
I am Miroth. The words they were so incredibly beautiful, tears began to run down his cheeks and Arazon grasped the dragon tightly around the neck. The feeling of the dragon’s mind linked to his was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was so wonderful, so incredible. A wave of loved flooded his mind as his arms held to the neck of the dragon. This is good. Thus Arazon became A'zon
Three years later Miroth flew a Green for the first time and unlikely as it was, A'zon fell head over heals for the rider. Hetril was bright and open, but while her dragon was only to happy to accomodated Miroth, her intrests lay elsewhere. She was deeply in love with a young weaver in the lower caverns. Tasare was a captivating, if frustrating woman and as life would have it wanted nothing to do with Hetril. The Weaver pressed A'zon on several occasions to no avail.
So, one warm summer night the three of them found each other and nine months later Tasare gave birth to Chani. It was obvious who's son she was and Hetril broke off all contact with both lovers.
When Chani was fifteen, Tasare was killed in a cave in. And A'zon, despite not getting along with nearly anyone was a loving father. He finally bought her a fire lizard and the love for the pet helped her to get over her mother's death.
But both have had a hard time coping and as A'zon withdrew and became even more disagreeable, Chani went on to be brightly open, using all the charisma she had inherited from her father.
He worked in Lateo, earning wingsecond after the fromer holder of the position retired. Since that moment, running the wing has been his life and A'zon burried himself in that to the exlusion of nearly everything else.
Dragon Information
Name:Miroth
Color: Bronze
Age: 37 turns
Description:
Miroth is small for a bronze dragon reaching just over 40 feet from nose to tail and his wingspan is comparable to his size. His hide is extremely dark, the color black Klah; however, it has a rich shade to it and darkens still more around his underbelly and joints. Mir has a regal look about him and carries himself as such. Like his rider, he looks to be the epitome of males, with a strong broad chest and well muscled legs.
His wings are long and sails unusually wide, this gives him the strength to fly Golds in mating and makes him an asset on long flights. Sleek and seemingly well muscled at the same time Miroth is a looker of a dragon indeed.
Personality:
He is as steady as a rock, firm in his loves and in life. For a dragon he has an unusually long memory. He is the rock in a stormy ocean. True to the nature of Bronze dragons, he is very blatant and strong willed. Really like the famed knights of old earth. He likes nothing better than to drip honeyed compliments over a gold and can't understand why it bothers his rider so much.
Calm and dignified, observant, and prone to offering his opinion to his rider, Miroth is almost always a boone.
History:
Miroth found A'zon immediately at Impression and there life has been reflected of such ever since. They share a very close bond and little escapes one or the other. Both passed through Weyrling training roughly, despite their obvious talent, A'zon's tendency to stray and his lack of cooperation with other rider landed them at the bottom of their class.
Despite the fact that Miroth is large enough to fly a Queen and no doubt could if he wanted to, the bronze has only flown in Green flights and is famous for pulling unheard of maneuvers. Going between is almost banned in flights for the danger of it, Miroth however, calmly ignores this. His favorite is a maneuver A'zon calls the "Shot Wherry". Miroth will gain as much height as he can above a flight, then wait till he is above his goal and drop, like a stone. Closing his wings completely until he is nearly on top of the female. He snaps his wings open and grabs ahold of the green then pushes her down and out of the chase before really slowing his decent. Even as he ages the Bronze shows no sign of letting up.
Clutch: Bronze Zarmith and Gold Ulmerath
