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Post by prissy on Jun 25, 2007 14:58:19 GMT -5
Player Info Name: Prissy Contact Info: already gave the info How you heard of LW: got other charries
Character Information
Name: Laurian (Lore-ee-inn), nickname Lauri (Lore-ee)
Gender: Male
Age/Birthday: 26/Summer birthing day
Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Journeyman Harper
Location: Keroon
Affiliation: He is a harper. A peacemaker and judge. He takes things as they are and tried not to pass early judgment.
Standing: He loves the old ballads of Dragons and Weyrs, and although he does not know that the dragons still exist, not being in the Master’s inner circle, he would defiantly be pleasantly surprised at that discovering. There is precedence of a long interval and the records say thread will come. The songs he sings say it will come-so it will come.
Family: Father, A Master Harper (Composer), Aurion 53 (Ore-ee-yon) Mother, Lemrick 49 (Lem-rik)
Brother, Journeyman Harper, Aumrin 31 (Ohm-rinn) Sister, Healer (Midwife trainee), Lemriane 28 (Lem-ree-anne) Sister, Holder’s spouse, Kirui 27 (Kee-ruw-ee) Journeyman Harper Laurian 26 Sister, Harper’s Spouse, Rici 24 (Richi) Sister, Holder’s Spouse, Mrisse 23 (M’riss) Brother, Apprentice Smith, Iomril 21 (Ee-ohm-ril) Sister, Apprentice Weaver, Lemura 18 (Lem-oor-uh) Brother, Apprentice Smith, Raurol 15 (Ror-olle) Brother Amekor 11 (Am-eh-korr)
Spouse, Apprentice Harper (Singer), Wynnhye 22 (Win-ee-yeh) – She is much unlike most women of the north and often gets in trouble for it. She was a wild one and unruly until her parents thrust her unto Laurian. She showed great talent but they had little success in turning her into a lady. And yet, she fits well with her mild mannered if somewhat traditional spouse. She is vibrant and exotic in personality and appearance with an head of long, dark brown, wavy curls and deep blue eyes. Her beauty isn’t textbook to say the least but recognized. With her two children now born she has settled down somewhat but her spark will be hard quenched.
Daughter Layhne 4 (Lane) Son Rowahnn 1 (Roh-wan)
Pets: Runner Fred, real name Fredlen – A mare of 10 turns, given to Laurian by his father upon reaching Journeyman rank. She was just turned 4 when given to the young Harper as a Journeyman’s runner. It was his father’s reasoning that he’d be traveling more now it could be nice for him to have his own runner. Fred is certainly not from a noble or well bred line but she does her job. She’s about middle height and sturdy, gray and dappled in color.
Appearance:
He’s good looking but not drop dead gorgeous. His best feature is probably his deep green eyes that really reflect his personality; intelligent, calm and pensive. His hair is rather plain, a light brown color and cut fairly short except a little longer in the front. His face and bone structure is fine except for a slightly large nose and smallish ears. But he is still a handsome man, all put together.
He is about six foot and fit. He excerisize regularly and his job involves a fair amount of movement anyways so he is never really out of shape. He is not particularly tanned, living in the north as he does, and his skin is fairly even without freckles or many blemishes. His hands however are blistered from both riding and playing the gitar. He has several nicks and scars that he has acquired in no particularly interesting way throughout his life and his body generally shows the wear that a 26 turn old man’s might.
He wears harper blue on official occasions but when traveling or otherwise he wears soft clothes pants in dark brown or black with a white shirt and a vest and if necessary, a cloak in dark green or brown. He wears a single silver band on his finger from his spouse, Wynnhye . His boots are well worn leather with the harper seal branded into the sole. He dresses fairly simple, as he believes a Journeyman should; too old for silly fashions but too young too where things of extravagance.
Personality:
He is a good fit for harper life. Keen to learn and a good teacher in return. He is bright, but not overly so, and enjoys the traditional ballads and stories, especially those of dragons and the weyrs of old. He would hardly be perturbed or surprised if he discovered their existence which he might one day do if he reaches master rank. He is a good mediator and likes to solve issues respectfully and peacefully. He prefers patience and peace to war and violence any day. He speaks little but has well formed opinions and is set in them and is stubborn to change them. He is loyal to the hall and to the people of pern in general but it is to the Masterharper that he truly serves. He respects the customs of the north and their formalities even if he does put up with his spouse whom many would suggest often goes out of her place.
Where he does falt as a harper is in shrewdness and cunning. When he argues he argues with silence, not words, which can be all well and good in small disputes but he would never spy or spread propaganda or meddle as the harpers do. He is too honest and truthful and would have trouble lying when it was asked of him. He does not really have the mind it takes to reach the Masterharper seat and neither does he have the ambition. It is actually his goal to, once reaching a masters position to, teach at the hall and pass on his knowledge to the next harpers of pern.
His skills as a harper are mainly voice and gitar but he can play simply on the drums and fiddle, with some competence, with the other instruments. His voice is rich and smooth like good klah or fine cloth. His Journeyman gitar is somewhat warn and although not originally made by him all the strings have been replaced by his hand and some of the body and neck as well. He does not own much else, a belt knife and such, he values simplicity. He is, for a Pernese person, spiritual. Not religious or superstitious but he believes in the innate goodness of the human soul and the unity of a man with Pern.
He has a fun, personable side as well though. In between grueling hours of harpering and a strict excerisize regime of sparring, riding and running he is a good father and spouse. He carries his little daughter on his shoulders and makes his baby son laugh at the funny faces he makes. He hangs out with his friends and shares skins of wine.
History:
He was born into a large harpering family and grew up with music everywhere. What they say about having to be loud in a big family, well he went the opposite direction. He found he could get what he wanted without saying much at all,. Most of his siblings were younger and grew up with many responsibilities, but certainly not as many as Aumrin or Lemriane. As his brothers grew up they were apprenticed off to some trade, Harper or Smith. His sisters, until the wily Lemura, were married off. He had decided he wanted to be a harper at age 5 when his father first let him touch a gitar. He made his first instrument, a crooked set of pipes at age seven and played music he had written on his own or picked up from older children. He showed much promise and was marked for apprenticeship early.
He first began riding and sparring when his snot nosed little brother Iomril called him a sissy for loving music so much at age 9. He took it very personally. He grew up tall and strong like most of his family members and had his fair share of girlfriends as an apprentice who liked his quiet, romantic nature…not to mention the songs he wrote for them. He didn’t have the knack for composing that his father did but he wrote simple things well enough. Apprenticeship wasn’t that hard for him, he picked up things easily and was always respectful and helpful to his teachers who admired greatly. It was because of his voice master, Harling, that he took up singing as his forte and wanted to become a teaching master. He became a Journeyman at just before 20. He had come down with fever at 18 and although he had gotten back into shape quickly, he realized he had some catching up to do and wouldn’t be graduating that turn.
His first post as a Journeyman, at age 20, was at a smaller, mining hold just outside of Crom. His charges were few and he found the job rewarding if somewhat tedious. That was however, until he met Wynnhye. He hadn’t really ever met anyone like her and was immediately taken with the girl. The elders of the hold were obviously exasperated and pushed her towards him to see if he could do something with her. He readily accepted and discovered that there was even more to her than he saw. She had a beautiful soprano voice, as fine as any of those he’d heard at the hall. As they grew closer and he began his courtship, to the annoyance of his parents who didn’t think her suitable, he insisted that she return with him to the hall once his posting was done. They were espoused midway through his term at the mining hold and she was pregnant soon after. About have a turn before he was set to leave she gave birth to their daughter, Layhne.
He returned to the harper hall with his daughter and spouse when he was 23 turns. Wynnhye, upon showing off her voice, was accepted as an apprentice much to the couple’s delight. However, Laurian was faced with a problem. He had been assigned to another hold for a turn. He promised that he wouldn’t leave her again when he came back. Sometimes he wondered if she was always faithful to him, as he was to her, but when he visited he could see in her eyes that she was. He returned home at a gallop with Fred and it seemed that the girl was pregnant again within a month. In terms with his promise he decided to stay at the hall for two turns as an assistant to the teaching masters and study further at the hall until his unborn child was old enough to safely go with him.
Rowahnn was then born and now, a year after that, Laurian is preparing to leave again. Wynnhye had decided, that to go with him, she would leave her apprenticeship on hold. It was surprising how much she had matured in a few turns. Now for Laurian, he has just been trasnfered to Keroon. He is excited about the mobve and can't wait to see how it develops.
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Post by prissy on Jun 26, 2007 16:08:30 GMT -5
Player Info Name: Prissy Contact Info: maetao2000@yahoo.com How you heard of LW: links
Character Information
Name: Sevyn
Gender: F
Age/Birthday: 15, winter/fall birth
Orientation: Hetero
Location: Sodalis, Candidate Barracks
Rank: Candidate
Family: Firadra was a loving and caring mother for the few years she was with her children, although a bit strict and very old-fashioned. She always seemed more Grand-damely to the children then motherly, but still they called her Mother and loved her deeply. Firadra was a simple woman, above all, wanting the best for her offspring. She had no sense of adventure, and lived by the rule that once you had children to carry on your name, nothing else mattered.
Lynra was a loveable, almost sisterly mother. She would play with the children as soon as chores were done, teaching them everything she knew, listening to their stories and kissing their scraped elbows and knees. Any child would feel loved in Lynra's presence, and indeed they all sought it, making her children and step-children a bit jealous. However, she always proclaimed what sweet children she had, and how they were her stars and she was the sky.
Trevas was a good father, providing for his family through thick and thin. He was very tall and dark, being atleast 6'10, most likely more. No one ever went hungry under his roof, although his children complained that he worked them to much. Teaching his sons was his specialty, and he never seemed to have enough time for his daughters, although they occasionally slipped into their brothers lessons just to be with their father.
Jakra, the eldest son at twenty-one turns, is a pessimist to the core. He always mumbled things like "it won't work" and "we'll die trying..." Because of that, he was sent to an apprenticeship as a Artist, where that pessimisty could be molded into catiousness, which would then be useful if he had any talent. And he did, atleast some. Now, the boy spends his time painting for various persons as a Journeyman Artist.
Jenva was born next, with his twin brother Lilion, and they are twenty. The twins are opposites in most respects except one; both are mentally retarded. Having been born as twins, this can be expected, and so it was no surprise when they never learned to talk. However, both are very strong and, even though they are slow, they can work very well, even with distractions. They reside with Lynra and Trevan, working quite happily.
Lett, sweet Lett, is nineteen. The inpersonified Harper. He could sing a fowl from its next. But fate did not agree, and he was sent, instead of to the Harper Hall, to the Beastcrafters Hall. Yet the allure of singing songs, writing them, and playing music for a living called him so deeply that it seemed to grasp his very core. And it did not take long for him to steal a Runnerbeast and make his way to the Harper Hall. He was reprimended sharply, but he survived and was allowed to become an Apprentice Harper. Now, at the rank of Journeyman, Lett plays some of the sweetest music under the Pernese sky.
Pathar was Trevan's cruelest son. He found torturing his younger siblings interesting, along with small animal's and fowl. Even his own Runnerbeasts were whipped into submission. A gentle hand never seemed to be in Pathar, and eventually he was sent to the Smithcrafts Hall. Within a month he was sent back with a letter proclaiming he was too this, too that. So, instead of trying again, his parents decided to keep him with them until he learned to be calm and gentle. Pathar still resides with them, at the age of seventeen turns.
Catherdel, the first of Lynra's babes and the second girl in the family(to be followed by two more), is around thirteen turns old, possibly twelve. She is a beauty, being everything Sevyn was not. She was beautiful. Sevyn was...odd. Catherdel was sweet and caring. Sevyn wants to rule Pern. Catherdel was perfect. Sevyn is human.
Minorim, the seven year old doll. Between herself and Catherdel, there are three misscarried babes. Minorim is a doll in many respects. She is small and dainty, unlike her siblings. She speaks little, unlike her siblings. She is undoubtably going to be married off to a well off family, prehaps even a Lord if she doesn't lose her beauty with age.
Tika is a newborn babe, and not much can be said about her save that her birth was long and grueling, and Lynra did not enjoy it at all.
Pets: None
Appearance: Sevyn was the oddest of her large family. Inheriting large eyes and a sharp chin from her great-grandmother clashed with her wide, full, bright lips and thin, long neck.
Her light gray eyes seem positively beautiful, like you would find them painted on the face of a Holder's daughter, not the offspring of a poor Cotholder in the middle of, it always seemed, nowhere. They hide her emotions quite easily, always seeming welcoming and friendly, yet with rippling undertones of a more intellectual, ambitious girl underneath.
Her hair is long, sweeping her waist. It is her one true vanity, though she does care a bit about attire and her face. Her hair is golden brown, and brushed carefully every morning. Usually it hangs in a high ponytail on her head, though occasionally it is found in a smooth braid or a piling bun.
Her body type is easily describable. She was envied for her tiny waist and large hips, though she did have a healthy stomach on her. Her chest was always small, but not girlily small. Her hips sway in naive allure, and she has seduced more then one man with her body. However, she towers over most boys and men, at 6'5. She doubts she will grow anymore, though, at her age and height.
Sevyn wears simple clothing; a slip or dress occasionally, but usually fitted breeches and a short tunic. She wears clothing that is appropriate for her personality and living style, though it is shaken by her new candidacy. Often found barefooted, she troops around the Weyr's halls as if they were her own, observing and waiting, ignorant of the cold biting her toes.
She can afford fitted breeches only because she worked her hide off when she was ten, saving every mark she could and hoarding as many as possible. Although her way of getting the Marks might have been considered a bit.. Bitran, it worked. Every night for almost a entire Turn, she held small bets with anyone around her. They were rigged, almost obviously at first. Two of her fathers Runnerbeasts, used solely for the children's riding, would race each other, Sevyn's twin brother's riding them. The boy's knew the meaning of "lose" and "win" and as long as they got a treat, they never said a word. Most of the Marks came from men that felt obliged to bet, but occasionally a small group would gather and Sevyn would profit incredibly. Her Da let this go on until he found out that REAL Marks were being used.
Personality: Sevyn is a complex person. She enjoys most things, and seems to be a happy, out going girl with a lot going for her. She came from a close, if sullen and withdrawn, family, and she prefers to get to know one before divulging her history to them.
She is a master storyteller, with the wildest imagination one could see in a young girl. Tall tales come out of her mouth undesirably at some times, and yet so believably told that even a story stars("Of all thing, Sevyn, stars?! You embarrass me to much!" Her mother wailed at her one day.) falling from the sky will seem momentarily believable.
Sevyn is out-going to the point where she is considered risk taking and daring by her friends. If she says she will do something, she does it, and usually with flying colors. No one can deny that, especially her many witnesses who will always remember the young girl with the 'Heart of Gold.'
But she something always seemed not quite right with her, and few know why.
Sevyn is a genius. And not just very smart-genius. Truthfully, genius isn’t the word to describe her. It’s more like “intelligent and clever with a amazing memory,” but as there is no word like that, genius will have to apply. Sevyn has high, very high ambitions. She want's to be in complete charge of Pern. As a female, that seems impossible. And any who knew that would doubt this young, impatient and daring girl would succeed, but she knows, deep down, she can do it, even as a female.
Why she wants to control her world is a simple reason, no matter how different and intricate the plan is. She cannot stand to let anyone see her in a postion of weakness. She can't let anyone know her deepest fears. Every time she is seen weak, she cannot stand it. She has to make herself look better in that persons eyes. And to this young girl, to make herself all-powerful and never weak, she has to control the world around. And everything in it. Even murder will not stop her.
Maybe it's the fact she has so many people loving her that it she could cry "Murderer!" at a innocent man and he would be dead-if not by authority then by foul play- before night fall. Maybe it's that she can easily control people. Maybe it's not. Maybe it doesn't matter, as long as everyone in the Weyr believes she is a innocent candidate, with no hidden agenda.
Sevyn is a master story-teller, yes, but she uses this in a bad way usually. Instead of entertaining children, she tries to one-up Harpers, who in turn either love her to bits and pieces or hate her terribly. Although Sevyn has a excellent memory, she is still learning how to observe things. If she were to be a Dragonrider fighting Thread, she would need to observe much more better then she does now.
History: Sevyn was born to her parents in the middle of the night. Cold air kissed her mothers sweating brow as the healer murmured again and again at his assistant.
"Trevas, make sure the children are--ahhh--fed." Firadra cried, a contraction seizing her in the middle of her sentence.
"They are! Just deliver this child, you've done it five times before!" It was true, though unlikely. Firadra was lucky, she had five older children, with no serious complications. Only one did not survive infancy, but that was due to an illness.
This birthing took very much too long, and the Healer wasn't sure the babe would survive. Firadra gave another groan before the slightest hint of a head was seen. Then, it took three long, painful moments and Sevyn was finally born.
Her mother died five Turns later, giving birth to a stillborn -yet beautiful- child.
But Sevyn lived on in the cothold near Benden Weyr, her father remarried, and she had many more younger siblings. When Sevyn was thirteen, her stepmother taught her well in the way's of homemaking, as no one expected her to be searched. She wasn't important, but even then Sevyn had a rough outline of the intricate plan to gain influence over all of Pern. It took her stepmother three day's, and then Sevyn had memorized every recipe recited to her, knew every way to clean, every way to heal minor wounds, and had it all known so well she started helping her twelve turn old sister, Catherdel, to learn ahead of time.
Sevyn had nice bit of friends, mostly the daughters and sons of the many Cotholders that all lived in a small clump, relying on each other for certain things. One would heal, another family would weave, and Sevyn's family would farm.
Sevyn had three very close friends, Kilonra, Jenel and Malia. Kilonra was a out-spoken, wild child who had no need for authority. She was amazingly kind, though, and Sevyn was good friends with her. Kilonra was often in trouble, and almost always suspected of doing the latest mischief.
Jenel was a very quiet girl, usually, but when pushed, she would snap. She was in love with an ignorant prat who was very stupid, and never realized that Jenel was the best thing for him. Jenel put herself down a lot, but Sevyn, Kilonra, and Malia pushed her back up constantly.
Malia was a bit different. She didn't get along with Kilonra very well, but still was close to Sevyn. She was a bit of a boy-crazy girl, always going for one man or another, but dropping them quickly.
Sevyn fell in love only twice, with various crushes but nothing serious. One love was older then her, and it would never work out. He didn't know she liked him at all, and she was only twelve and he was fourteen. She thought she loved him, she really did, but now she doubts it very much.
The second love still burns within her with such passion she wants to go back to him even if he won't have her. She loved him so much, yet everything about her was wrong. He would occasionally dance when a Harper decided to play music, he would talk to her, touch her hand. He knew she liked him, yet still he chose one of Sevyn's close friends over her.
Sevyn wanted to be mad, but she realized that as long as he was happy, she was happy. Her love was pure, not selfish. If he was happy with her, Sevyn was happy for him, no matter how many tears she shed, sobs she cried, and nights she laid thinking about the "if only's" of life.
One short turn later, a Bronzerider landed on Trevas' newly harvested field in the late fall, right before sundown. Sevyn remembered a lot, but this could be recalled with such accuracy it scared even Sevyn herself.
The sky was a beautiful, deep orange color fading to red, then maroon, then deep blue, then black speckled with white star's. The moons hung low in the sky, and a wind tumbled through as Trevas stood happily observing his harvest. Sevyn stood in her long slip, beautiful for all it was plain, the wind playing with her uncharacteristically loose hair and the skirts of her dress. Why she was wearing a dress was etched clearly in her mind, too. Trevas' had wanted to celebrate with a small Gather-like party. He had insisted everyone dress up just to celebrate the harvest.
The Bronze dragon was at first just a dark shape, high in the heavens. Probably a bird, Sevyn thought. But then, the shape's head turned down, and folded it's wings. It fell almost straight down, opening it's wings-very, very LARGE wings, Sevyn realized with a gasp-and evening out at the last second.
It took Sevyn a full minute to move towards her protective father and stepmother. The Dragon rider dismounted and walked forward towards the trio, as everyone else was gone or in bed, deep asleep with the help of delicious wines.
"Trevas," A deep, secretive voice boomed as a man with dancing eyes and a large nose held out a gloved hand.
"O-Obrion?" Trevas whispered, one hand holding Lynra, his second wife, close and the other doing the same to his beloved first daughter.
"No, no, O'rion now, brother! And Father said I wouldn't make it! Hah!" O'rion grinned, all of his teeth showing. Sevyn immediately liked him.
"You're a Dragonrider!" She cried, her eyes wide and happy.
"You guessed it, little one!" O'rion touched her nose lightly. "And you must be one of my many nieces!"
The thought didn't register, Sevyn wasn't paying anyone any attention except the Bronze Dragon. He was beautiful, the first of his kind she had ever seen. She had barely believed the old tales Harpers weaved, but now she recalled everything perfectly.
O'rion, she likes me. Only O'rion heard this laughing voice, but Sevyn had focused on him once more and guessed what was happening.
"Wha'd he say?!" She exclaimed, removing herself form her fathers protection and looking up-for once- into the Dragonriders face, childlike questioning filling her face.
"By the Egg! How'd you know it? Guessed, didja? Well, why don't you go over there while me and your Da have a talk, hmm?"
I like this girl...She could Impress, I believe. Very well. O'rion, they would want us to take her...
O'rion rubbed his stubbly chin, then gave Sevyn a unneeded little push. She took off, listening carefully with one ear to her parents discussion as she ungracefully stumble-ran to the Dragon with fear hovering, ready to emerge but being pushed down by curiosity. No one would have guessed it, though. She touched the Bronze bravely, slightly afraid once more, but knowing that this man just would not put her in danger.
"Scratch his eyeridges, girly!" O'rion called before turning to Lynra and Trevas with a sudden change of emotion.
"Trevas, Trevas...A second wife?" O'rion's voice held sadness before unexpressed.
"Yes, I am Lynra." Lynra boldly stated, her pregnant belly bouncing slightly as she inclined her head.
"Nice to meet you," O'rion's voice suddenly dropped into a hoarse whisper. "Trevan, the Weyr is in grave trouble. I need supplies, any supplies. We are mostly wiped out." O'rion continued on with this story, which only he knew the reason for, finally getting Healer supplies out of his brother.
O'rion needed the supplies for his grown daughters cothold. No one liked the husband; he cheated them out of too many prizes, too many good deals went bad at his hands. The daughter, Lirka, was with child for the first time, although she was already caring for her husbands first and second wives children, all seven of them.
Yes, Lirka's situation seemed shady, but for some reason she liked -O'rion was hazard to say loved- her dark husband. But now situations arose where Lirka and Gyre, her lifemate, needed healer supplies gravely. They couldn't buy any; Gyre spent the last of his Marks on clothing and blankets. No one would help them, no one liked Gyre and his offspring(the oldest ten, then eight, then seven, five, four, three and two) would undoubtedly follow in his footsteps. If they could ignore him, maybe his cursed line would die out.
However, O'rion loved his daughter very, very much. He wanted the best for her, and when she sent a flit to him with a message stating they needed medical supplies from a source that would not know who got them, O'rion turned to his baby brother. He cheated his own flesh and blood, yes, but he also helped his beloved daughter and her babe.
"There is one last thing..." O'rion hesitated, not sure how to address this matter.
O'rion, she must come. Look, she handles me like a natural. She will do well, and we need her.
"Trevas, Firth say's Sevyn could Impress. We need her. Let her come, please?" O'rion whispered pleadingly.
"No!" Lynra cried. She loved Sevyn as her own.
"No, no way. Shards, man! You can't take her!" Trevan loudly said. Sevyn paused as the words faintly reached her ears.
"They're talking about me, I know it." She muttered, touching the dragon's snout lightly. "I know you know, too. I've heard the ballads." Sevyn smiled. "I would like that, too. Hmm..." She slowly walked back to her family with a hard pat on Firth's shoulder.
"Sevyn!!" Lynra called in a motherly voice. Sevyn hurried, holding her tall mother tightly.
"Sevyn, he wants to take you to Impress." Trevan finished in a quiet voice. Sevyn nodded.
"I know."
"Do you-" Lynra hesitated, tears brimming her eyes.
"Do you want to go?" O'rion broke in kindly.
"Yes." Sevyn did not hesitate. She loved her family, but she wanted this so badly. To be able to have something-someone- to love her so much would make her whole. She needed it deeply.
O'rion spent the night and took Sevyn back to the Weyr with him the next afternoon.
Do you want this char Searched? Yes, if she can't already be at Sodalis
Color Preference: Green or Gold
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Post by prissy on Jun 23, 2007 0:44:30 GMT -5
Player Info Already have this for my other sona Th'ral
Rider Information
Name: R'daur (Rundaur) Gender: Male Birthing Date: Born in the turn 2471 Orientation: Bisexual Location: Sodalis Weyr Rank/Wing: Queen's wing; Master Dragonhealer
Standing: R'daur is less worried about planetary conquest for the dragonriders than he is about preserving the health and spirit of their dragons. He was staunchly anti-North in his youth, but as a healer he has come to appreciate the value of life, be it Northern, Southern, or draconic. Going off of this belief, he would be against denying the North aide when Thread once again begins to rain death upon the people of Pern. He's seen enough lives lost in accidents and fights to support the slaughter, through action or neglect, of thousands of people.
Family: His father was Daumun, a small-time farmer in a small-time cothold, and his mother was Ruwatta, born at Sodalis Weyr but fostered out to a nearby cothold at a young age. His mother died due to complications from childbirth when he was ten and his father was left with six mouths to feed alone.
His oldest brother at four years older is Dormund, built like their father and well able to handle the rigors of farm life. After that is his brother Ettan, smaller but quick on his feet and smart when it comes to crop cycles and planting. They're both long married and with families of their own, working the same plot of land together and doing moderately well. He hears from them every so often and enjoys getting news of his nieces and nephews, however rare it is.
Younger than him are Yatta and Datine, both workers in the lower caverns, primarily the kitchens, and two and three years younger than him respectively. They've had children of their own and raised others as foster parents, but he pays them little mind, having drifted apart after he took up his apprenticeship with the resident dragon healer. Youngest of all was his brother Dulak who, though seven years younger and small, had ingratiated himself with their father enough that the man couldn't part with him. The resemblance to his dead wife was just too strong, and this had been her baby for too many years. Last he heard of him was years and years ago, when he ran away from home to seek his fortunes elsewhere.
Pets: - Meier [hatched 2497]: Meier is a pale blue fire-lizard who is easily distracted from his appointed errands but nevertheless at least partially trained. R'daur uses him to fetch small things he may need while working. Whether or not the flit returns with the right object or even returns at all is always up in the air, as he's very easily distracted and will abandon anything in pursuit of a rising green. He's unreliable at best but the brownrider finds him useful at times, when hard pressed for help.
Appearance: Standing a good 6'2", R'daur usually sports shoulder-length hair, though that's more from lack of trimming than a desire for any kind of length. It's mostly straight and used to be a dark brown before he started graying. Now over half of it is streaked unevenly with gray, the majority concentrating on the area around his temples. It's partly due to genetics and partly due to the stressful nature of his calling. Some say it makes him look more dignified, while others just call him old. His watery gray eyes only add to that impression.
When he has the time, he enjoys engaging in physical activity to keep himself trim. Health is important to him, as is stamina and the ability to last for as long as he needs to on the job. When work becomes stressful and demanding, though, he will work himself to the bone and develop a harried, gaunt appearance if his self-neglect is left unchallenged. As Thread begins to fall, this will come to be the norm rather than the exception and he will become more prone to stress-related headaches, which only bothered him occasionally before.
R'daur dresses in sturdy, warm clothes whenever possible, which might be his riding gear or a thick woolen tunic and pants depending on the situation. He has a fondness for some jewelry, especially rings, but he can't often wear them due to the hands-on nature of his work. His beltknife is always sharpened to a razor's edge because a medic of any kind should never be without a good knife in his opinion.
Personality: A serious and often stressed man in his middle years, R'daur has earned every single gray hair on his head. He has come to value life and health above all things and views his patients as paramount to his life. If they aren't comfortable, he has trouble relaxing, and if he knows there's a dragon that needs tending to, he finds it difficult if not impossible to leave the task until later and get some rest. The health of other people is paramount to his own, so much so that he will easily forget about food and sleep during a crisis in favor of working feverishly to save those under his care. Even when neglecting himself terribly, however, a gentle nudge from Lheth regarding the brown's well-being is all it takes for him to to disengage from work and care for his dragon.
When people look at him, at a glance they see an often tired, rarely jovial man with permanent creases in his forehead and a small frown turning down his lips without his even realizing it. It's when a dragon they know is placed under his care that they realize what a mask that is, and what a compassionate and empathic soul lurks beneath the facade. If there is anything that can be done to help his patients, he will do it. If not, he will try to ensure that their pain is numbed and their passing easy. It's not uncommon for him to have nightmares of the dragons he wasn't able to save and the riders left bereft in their loss. Many of them involve Lheth's injury and subsequent death due to a bad teleport, a faulty direction, or even Threadfall. He'll wake up in a cold sweat, his brown's concerned mind touching his own with soothing comfort and forcing him back to sleep. Those nightmares happen with more frequency after a fresh loss and it helps when there's someone beside him, usually the result of a won or lost mating flight, that he can cling to as he calms his breathing. He's scared off a potential lover or two with this behavior but many have been understanding, haunted by their own nightmares.
In his spare time he grows a small garden of medicinal plants for use in his lotions and salves. The Weyr granted him a tiny plot to use during the growing season and he's become adept at coaxing life out of unwilling or finicky plants. Something of the farmer in his past comes through in these moments and he cares for them almost as he would a patient. Lheth finds it quite amusing and wastes no time in teasing his rider about his latest 'children'.
Looking at the more domestic side of things, Lheth has won his share of green mating flights since he reached maturity and R'daur has had extensive experience with members of both sexes. He's generally had more fun with men but doesn't object to a good fling with a woman. Younger is his preference and he wouldn't mind finding a weyrmate someday who can accept being third in his heart, after Lheth and his calling as a dragon healer. He no doubt has children in the Weyr, but none that he's ever been able to identify as his.
History: Born Rundaur a couple of amateur farmers, he started out living in a small cothold a ways out from Sodalis Weyr, the third of many children. The couple were poor but relatively happy with their lot in life and their many children. After the birth of her seventh, his mother was left weak and struggling in a harsh winter. She didn't make it through to spring, leaving his father alone with a newborn infant, who died not long after his mother from a high fever. Without his consent, a ten-year-old Rundaur and his two younger sisters were fostered out to the Weyr in exchange for three slightly older children from the nearby hold whose parents were looking for some relief.
He spent his first few months at Sodalis familiarizing himself with the Weyr and trying to find his place. Lower caverns work was always the default, but he was a bright and capable boy. Those concerned with his placement knew he could achieve more. The Weyr's dragon healer expressed an interest in taking him on as an apprentice and so his teaching began.
He spent the next several years learning to read and write, then learning the various plants and herbs native to the area and used in medicine. From the age of thirteen on, his master had him stand as a candidate for every hatching until, at fifteen, he Impressed brown Lheth and his training was put on hold for the next two years in favor of a different kind of training. Soon after he graduated and continued his profession in a more formal capacity, he began using his dragon as a learning tool as well as a lifemate and his true understanding of dragon anatomy was shaped.
Life as a dragon healer without Threadfall provided him with an excellent environment to learn as much as he could from his master before the old man's death from a heart attack. All of his knowledge of Threadscore and the treating of it is theoretical, so dealing with the stress and pressure of real-time combat wounds will be a real wake-up call to him.
The last several Turns were quiet until the Muneo incident occured. In 2506, there was a volcanic eruption causing severe injury to dragons and riders alike. After days of dragons succuming to injuries or Theirs passing away, the keening was still ringing in R'daur's ears as helped to try and heal those who were injuried in this disastor. His dragon was a great help however, Lheth would get in the way when he was healing a brown or bronze and get injured himself.
While he was healing so many he had little time to care for Lheth who suffered a little, but not enough that His could not repair the damage in a matter of a sevenday. The pair grew stronger from this and now are closer than ever.
Dragon Information
Name: Lheth Hatching Date: Hatched in the turn 2487 Clutch: Gold Caliath and Bronze Symeth
Color: Lheth is a rich, warm brown, the color evenly distributed across his hide. A few scars mar the smooth texture of his right side from an unpleasant fall and scrape as a weyrling, but they don't hamper his mobility in any way and are in fact quite faded now.
Description: A medium-sized brown, Lheth has large, strong wings that give him a good deal of stamina in flight. He can last a while, whether it's a mating flight or a Fall. His shoulder and wing muscles are especially well developed, as he's often flying around the Weyr while his rider is otherwise occupied in his office or quarters. The aforementioned scarring on his side is a source of old embarrassment for the dragon, one of his extremely rare memories from weyrling training. Where he fell and scraped his side on jagged rocks there remains pale scars and a raised, uneven texture.
Personality: Lheth has the same compassionate soul as his rider, though it's expressed towards the man and his patients alone. He's not a particularly sociable dragon, though he treats them all with the courtesy they're due, and has little use for humans other than his rider and perhaps his eventual weyrmate. He is not above asking a queen to have their rider command R'daur to rest, especially if he hasn't eaten for most of the day and has barely the past few nights. He will take care of his rider at all costs, much as would be done for him.
You might say the brown thinks of R'daur as his permanent patient, keeping tabs on when he last ate and rested so that he knows exactly when to intervene for maximum effect, which is when his rider is still semi-conscious but least able to argue. He has learned much about dragon anatomy along with his rider and can help R'daur save time in critical situations by obtaining a list of symptoms before he even gets to them and offering a recommendation on what should be done. Sometimes they're implemented and sometimes they're not, but his rider is usually grateful for the input and time-saver if nothing else.
History: Lheth hatched near the middle of his clutch, breaking shell with a loud creel and scattering shards amongst his siblings. A particularly sharp one stuck up and caught on his soft brown wing as it dragged through the sand, causing him to cry out with a different sort of noise. Another voice cried out at the same time, half with the concern of a doctor and half in shared pain.
"No, don't pull it any more!" the young man cried, running forward and falling to his knees in the burning sand. "You'll only rip the membrane and injure yourself. Here, let me..."
With a moment's careful work, Rundaur worked the jagged shell fragment free from the brown and tossed it violently to the side, irrationally angry at it for hurting his precious Lheth. When that thought hit home, it made him glad he was already kneeling because his legs wouldn't have supported his weight at the realization.
Your Lheth thanks you, R'daur, the gentle voice of the hatching crooned in his mind, the pain temporarily ignored as he stared up at this boy in wonder. It was an odd echo of his own, younger and deeper but still familiar. You saved me. But...I would thank you again if you found me something to eat.
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