Post by shikura on Jan 28, 2006 17:57:04 GMT -5
Name: Shikura
Contact: WingedElfMage(AIM), PM
How You heard of Lost Weyrs: Search, then link..
Rider Information
Name: D'lian (Dylian)
Gender Male
Age/Birthday: 22, Late Summer
Orientation: Heterosexual
Location: Sodalis Weyr
Rank/Wing: Wingsecond/BloodChar Wing, Weyrleader J'ren
Standing: D'lian has an unexpected standing, given his background. He feels that the Holders should be dominated, thinking that they don't know how to run themselves. If the riders are going to save Pern, they should decide how it is run.
Family:
Father: Danor, 47
Mother: Liana, 40
Brother: Danin, 26
Daughter: Essie, 2
Essie's mother: Kiyoun, Greenrider. Conceived during Flight.
Pets: None
Appearance: D'lian is a tall young man, standing at around 6'1. His tan complexion comes from his long hours of working in the sun as a boy, and then from his work as a rider. It blends well with the long dark black hair that tends to fall in his smoky blue-ish eyes unless it is brushed back, out of the way. D'lian's muscles are lean, not giving him the appearance of someone overly-built, but not making him look scrawny. He can hold his own in a fight, to be sure. The bronze rider wears well-tailored clothes that fit him, but that also manage to compliment his lean, muscular frame.
Personality: D'lian is not a hard man to understand. At first meeting him, one can almost see the intensity for life in his eyes. He is not someone you would want as an enemy. He is a man to go after what he wants, when he wants it, sometimes regardless of the consequences. This has led him to take some risks in his life, with different outcomes. D'lian is very ambitious, but that is tempered somewhat by his intellect. He's not rash enough to make a move unless he is fairly certain it will work to his advantage. However, D'lian knows how to have a good time too. He's no stranger to women, and has created quite a reputation for himself in the Lower Caverns. He tends to stay away from drinks though. He feels vunerable when drunk, and would rather have his wits about him at all times instead of puking his guts out. Although, he will enjoy a glass of wine or two when the times calls for it. Overall, he is a good leader, using the riders around him's good traits to better the Weyr when he can.
History: D'lian was born and raised in one of the Northern Holds. His father was a manservant to the Lord of Nerat Hold, and his mother was one of the Lady of Nerat Hold's ladies. It was a comfortable arrangement and one would think D'lian would be fairly happy with his living situation. But that was far from the truth. As the younger son, D'lian was deemed to be unimportant. Danin would inherit anything their father left, leaving D'lian with nothing. D'lian refused to accept that, and felt there was more for him out there. Ever since he was a little boy, he had been obsessed with legendary stories of the dragonriders. When he turned 16, he chose to leave the Hold he had been born and raised in, and (some would say foolishly) sought out the Weyrs. By luck, or fate some could say, he was searched not to long after at a Gathering he attended. D'lian hasn't looked back since, and has enjoyed his new life at the Weyr.
His searching went something like this:
After Dylian left his home, he was not used to the wrath of the elements like others were. Where one man would brace himself, Dylian would shiver. Where a woman would continue againist hardships and toils, Dylian would be forced to stop or risk the loss of his fragile extremities. No, working for all of ones life in the kitchens or with weavers would not prove very useful in the wild. No, no it wouldn't...
On the tenth day after he had left his family, Dylian was starving. He wasn't as good as scavenging and the such as he had wanted. He couldn't find the delicious roots he had wanted to find...he couldn't hunt animals... He was, in all facts and theroys, a horrid wildsman. He clung to life as though it were his lover, and ate whatever he could find. His stomache oft churned with disgust, but he still lived on.
Eventually his stomache must have shrunk, because he found himself with less hunger. He felt stronger and by the fifteenth day he was in the middle of no where.
Out of the sky like the bullets of Terra, a sleek pair of dragons graced the heavens. Their wingsbeat in symphony, and for a moment Dylian felt his heart twist in emotions combined. Anger, he wanted to have the ability to fly. Sorrow, why were they so hated? Joy, they were so... They were Dragons!
"Fall!" Dylian bellowed. The dragons had swooped down to his camp, a glade, and it looked like they would land. Their thin yet powerful wings stroked one last time as they deftly touched down. Dylian dove aside at the last second, his body taking the brunt of his roll. The breath was knocked right out of his chest, and he let out a silent yelp. His eyes rolled back in his head, but he could still hear.
"Vicasserra? So...how do we find the girl?" A male Rider removed his helmet fluidly, pulling of his gloves and stuffing them in his pockets. He looked no different then other men, save for darkly tanned skin and a muscular body. His compainion was a female, beautiful in all respects save one. She was a Blue-rider, and she had a manish look about her. Her arms and legs, showing through a twice-slitted skirt, were chisled. They were strong, that was it.
"F'von," The dark woman repied testily at her Brownrider friend. "F'von, we will find her by simply searching. Nerat, Telgar, Ista, and Bitra if needed. We will find her, do not worry." Her voice was smoother than possible, with a musical touch. It carried power won from years of work with little play. Her companion nodded a afirmative. They proceeded to decide that camping here would be their best bet, since the day was most over.
F'von was the one that found Dylian, now laying on his stomache, listening intently. He had no time to run.
"Now, lady, what shall we do?" F'von's voice carried less power then the womans, but it held more promise of punishment. Vicasserra shrugged.
"Vicasserra," F'von began in a warning tone. She was obviously leading this expedition.
"We can't leave him, obviously. We have to take him back. He's around Impressing age, anyway." Vicasserra smoothly covered her previous surprise with that creamy voice.
And so began the story.
Dragon Information
Name: Vasyth
Color: Bronze
Age: 5 Turns
Description: Vasyth was the darkest bronze of his clutch. His hide is a dark, molten bronze with blends of copper. Lighter tones of bronze grace his underbelly and haunches. He is fairly large, but completely in porportion to his size. He has a grace that many would not think of a dragon his size.
Personality: Vasyth is confident in himself, but not quite to the point of arrogance. He has what it takes to become a great leader, knowing what to do and when to do it. He does not care much for color, knowing that not every dragon is fortunate enough to be a bronze. Also, Vasyth is not one to hesitate, especially when he knows what he wants. And once he knows what he wants, he will not allow anything to stand in his way of it.
History: Vasyth was the last bronze of his clutch to hatch. There was no hesitation after he broke away from his egg-shaped prison: the bronze hatchling knew who exactly who he wanted. A candidate got in his way, and ended up geting a talon in his heart as Vasyth made his way to his Chosen. Shaking off the dead boy the bronze approached Dylian. The candidate gasped but any feelings of fear or thoughts of running left his mind as he heard the dragon speak to him. Fed your Vasyth, D'lian. I am hungry. "Of course, we'll get you seen to right away!" He beamed. He had actually impressed! Him, the boy no one wanted! Now he had a chance to make his dreams come true! Together, they would make a name for themselves...
Clutch: Sire: Bronze Beodith Dam: Gold Caliath
Contact: WingedElfMage(AIM), PM
How You heard of Lost Weyrs: Search, then link..
Rider Information
Name: D'lian (Dylian)
Gender Male
Age/Birthday: 22, Late Summer
Orientation: Heterosexual
Location: Sodalis Weyr
Rank/Wing: Wingsecond/BloodChar Wing, Weyrleader J'ren
Standing: D'lian has an unexpected standing, given his background. He feels that the Holders should be dominated, thinking that they don't know how to run themselves. If the riders are going to save Pern, they should decide how it is run.
Family:
Father: Danor, 47
Mother: Liana, 40
Brother: Danin, 26
Daughter: Essie, 2
Essie's mother: Kiyoun, Greenrider. Conceived during Flight.
Pets: None
Appearance: D'lian is a tall young man, standing at around 6'1. His tan complexion comes from his long hours of working in the sun as a boy, and then from his work as a rider. It blends well with the long dark black hair that tends to fall in his smoky blue-ish eyes unless it is brushed back, out of the way. D'lian's muscles are lean, not giving him the appearance of someone overly-built, but not making him look scrawny. He can hold his own in a fight, to be sure. The bronze rider wears well-tailored clothes that fit him, but that also manage to compliment his lean, muscular frame.
Personality: D'lian is not a hard man to understand. At first meeting him, one can almost see the intensity for life in his eyes. He is not someone you would want as an enemy. He is a man to go after what he wants, when he wants it, sometimes regardless of the consequences. This has led him to take some risks in his life, with different outcomes. D'lian is very ambitious, but that is tempered somewhat by his intellect. He's not rash enough to make a move unless he is fairly certain it will work to his advantage. However, D'lian knows how to have a good time too. He's no stranger to women, and has created quite a reputation for himself in the Lower Caverns. He tends to stay away from drinks though. He feels vunerable when drunk, and would rather have his wits about him at all times instead of puking his guts out. Although, he will enjoy a glass of wine or two when the times calls for it. Overall, he is a good leader, using the riders around him's good traits to better the Weyr when he can.
History: D'lian was born and raised in one of the Northern Holds. His father was a manservant to the Lord of Nerat Hold, and his mother was one of the Lady of Nerat Hold's ladies. It was a comfortable arrangement and one would think D'lian would be fairly happy with his living situation. But that was far from the truth. As the younger son, D'lian was deemed to be unimportant. Danin would inherit anything their father left, leaving D'lian with nothing. D'lian refused to accept that, and felt there was more for him out there. Ever since he was a little boy, he had been obsessed with legendary stories of the dragonriders. When he turned 16, he chose to leave the Hold he had been born and raised in, and (some would say foolishly) sought out the Weyrs. By luck, or fate some could say, he was searched not to long after at a Gathering he attended. D'lian hasn't looked back since, and has enjoyed his new life at the Weyr.
His searching went something like this:
After Dylian left his home, he was not used to the wrath of the elements like others were. Where one man would brace himself, Dylian would shiver. Where a woman would continue againist hardships and toils, Dylian would be forced to stop or risk the loss of his fragile extremities. No, working for all of ones life in the kitchens or with weavers would not prove very useful in the wild. No, no it wouldn't...
On the tenth day after he had left his family, Dylian was starving. He wasn't as good as scavenging and the such as he had wanted. He couldn't find the delicious roots he had wanted to find...he couldn't hunt animals... He was, in all facts and theroys, a horrid wildsman. He clung to life as though it were his lover, and ate whatever he could find. His stomache oft churned with disgust, but he still lived on.
Eventually his stomache must have shrunk, because he found himself with less hunger. He felt stronger and by the fifteenth day he was in the middle of no where.
Out of the sky like the bullets of Terra, a sleek pair of dragons graced the heavens. Their wingsbeat in symphony, and for a moment Dylian felt his heart twist in emotions combined. Anger, he wanted to have the ability to fly. Sorrow, why were they so hated? Joy, they were so... They were Dragons!
"Fall!" Dylian bellowed. The dragons had swooped down to his camp, a glade, and it looked like they would land. Their thin yet powerful wings stroked one last time as they deftly touched down. Dylian dove aside at the last second, his body taking the brunt of his roll. The breath was knocked right out of his chest, and he let out a silent yelp. His eyes rolled back in his head, but he could still hear.
"Vicasserra? So...how do we find the girl?" A male Rider removed his helmet fluidly, pulling of his gloves and stuffing them in his pockets. He looked no different then other men, save for darkly tanned skin and a muscular body. His compainion was a female, beautiful in all respects save one. She was a Blue-rider, and she had a manish look about her. Her arms and legs, showing through a twice-slitted skirt, were chisled. They were strong, that was it.
"F'von," The dark woman repied testily at her Brownrider friend. "F'von, we will find her by simply searching. Nerat, Telgar, Ista, and Bitra if needed. We will find her, do not worry." Her voice was smoother than possible, with a musical touch. It carried power won from years of work with little play. Her companion nodded a afirmative. They proceeded to decide that camping here would be their best bet, since the day was most over.
F'von was the one that found Dylian, now laying on his stomache, listening intently. He had no time to run.
"Now, lady, what shall we do?" F'von's voice carried less power then the womans, but it held more promise of punishment. Vicasserra shrugged.
"Vicasserra," F'von began in a warning tone. She was obviously leading this expedition.
"We can't leave him, obviously. We have to take him back. He's around Impressing age, anyway." Vicasserra smoothly covered her previous surprise with that creamy voice.
And so began the story.
Dragon Information
Name: Vasyth
Color: Bronze
Age: 5 Turns
Description: Vasyth was the darkest bronze of his clutch. His hide is a dark, molten bronze with blends of copper. Lighter tones of bronze grace his underbelly and haunches. He is fairly large, but completely in porportion to his size. He has a grace that many would not think of a dragon his size.
Personality: Vasyth is confident in himself, but not quite to the point of arrogance. He has what it takes to become a great leader, knowing what to do and when to do it. He does not care much for color, knowing that not every dragon is fortunate enough to be a bronze. Also, Vasyth is not one to hesitate, especially when he knows what he wants. And once he knows what he wants, he will not allow anything to stand in his way of it.
History: Vasyth was the last bronze of his clutch to hatch. There was no hesitation after he broke away from his egg-shaped prison: the bronze hatchling knew who exactly who he wanted. A candidate got in his way, and ended up geting a talon in his heart as Vasyth made his way to his Chosen. Shaking off the dead boy the bronze approached Dylian. The candidate gasped but any feelings of fear or thoughts of running left his mind as he heard the dragon speak to him. Fed your Vasyth, D'lian. I am hungry. "Of course, we'll get you seen to right away!" He beamed. He had actually impressed! Him, the boy no one wanted! Now he had a chance to make his dreams come true! Together, they would make a name for themselves...
Clutch: Sire: Bronze Beodith Dam: Gold Caliath
