The skies were dark over Western Weyr that night, the moons’ light strangled by dense clouds and the air still and stifling. Sleep was difficult for many in the sultry heat, and the dragons were restless, sensing a storm’s approach. Hundreds of yellow eyes whirled in the darkness, looking up toward the distant heavens.
Talela tossed and turned in her bed, having shed her thin blankets hours before. Her sleep, when she managed to enter it, was weak, and filled with strange and frightening images as her body struggled with the airless atmosphere.
Dearest…?
Talela heard her dragon’s voice through the fog of her dozing. She stirred, groaning aloud. Yes, love? What is it?
I need you. Please, come.
There was an atypical uneasiness in Vimiath’s tone that made the woman sit bolt upright. Her weyr was so dark that she couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face, but she got out of bed and walked toward the door. She yelped as her shin slammed into a piece of furniture. Patting it with her hand, she found it was her wooden chair. So she’d gotten herself turned around. The door was over that way. She shuffled more carefully now, in the right direction. Finally, her hand touched the knob, and she opened the door.
Kreeeeeeeeeeeeee!
A firelizard careened into Talela’s weyr, shrieking as it collided with her head and became entangled in her hair. She screamed and swatted at it, and it screamed and clawed and beat her about the face with its wings. She managed to grab hold of it and pulled it loose, but not before it had mauled her hands with teeth and talons. Where was Vimiath? Why hadn’t she intervened and calmed the creature? Talela was in a panic for her lifemate as she threw the flit away from her and sprinted outside.
She froze as she became aware of a huge bulk a half-dozen arm lengths away. It seemed to be writhing in pain – a heaving mountain of black upon black.
“V… Vimiath?”
She recoiled as a double burst of red light pierced the darkness, much closer than she believed the creature was. The lights flared and spun, mixing with yellow, green and purple until they were a sickening prism of color. Then lightning struck, revealing Vimiath, contorted into a twisted crouch, her golden hide reflecting the burning white blast with a vaporous, glowing halo.
THE STORM HAS COME! she roared, pointing her nose to the sky and letting out a guttural howl so loud that the woman dropped to her knees, desperately covering her ears. The slender gold curled in on herself for a moment, then flung herself from the earth to the sound of a thunderclap. Terrified animal shrieks punctuated the night, and the next bolt of lightning revealed Vimiath hunched over the corpses of her prey, blood spraying into the air as she swung her head upwards to howl again.
Shocked by the behavior of her lifemate, Talela got to her feet and stumbled toward the gore-slickened scene. But the fiery agony in the depths of her body, flowing into her from the dragon, left no question as to what was happening. Two blooded, any more would be too much for what was yet to come. Vimiath, it’s time! Rise, NOW!
Then the queen was in the air, flying straight into a heavy curtain of cooling rain as it swept over the Weyr. Moonlight broke through the clouds and shone upon her glistening body as she hovered above the caldera. The darkness is my domain! she bellowed into the abyss. Come and join me, my lovers, if you DARE!
And so begins our second goldflight here at Echoes of Pern! Vimiath welcomes all male suitors, no matter the color of their hide OR where they hail from. If your dragon isn’t a Western resident but has IC reason for being there in the middle of the night, he’s qualified to chase! Blues cannot win, sadly, but are invited to join for fun!
Viamath is not old, thank you! Dragons don't age like runnerbeasts, or even humans, for that matter! And besides, even at her age, Vimiath is still a very... fruitful sort of dragon.
Clutching is decidedly her favorite function as a gold. Presiding over a generous brood makes her feel so grand, so big, so beautiful! Look at us! Look at me! Vimiath is never happier than when she is surrounded by her own eggs. As any mother, she wants to see her children safely Impressed once they hatch, but then her job is done. She loves them, but they'll be fine with their bonded, no need to keep tabs... no, she'll just start the countdown for the next bunch!
In light of that, it is fortuitous that she just so happens to love each and every one of those bronzes, blues and browns. Even the unpleasant or ugly ones, or the ones who are... confused. They're all potential sires-in-waiting, each with something wonderful to contribute to the next generation. She'd rise once every sevenday for them, if she could. Since she can't do that, she settles for doting upon them, often in mixed-color and age groups.
She's not picky about her mates, but she IS picky about what she eats. Vimiath will only consume what she perceives to be the best -- she favors caprines, especially younger, darker-colored beasts. She won't touch any with white spots on their fur, believing that to be a sign of sickness or weakness. Wherries are her last resort if nothing else is available.
Vimiath doesn't appreciate being thought of as "old," but she does enjoy using her age as license to get away with things younger dragons get scolded for. She'll steal things for a laugh, leave half-eaten carcasses for others to clean up, cause distractions during greenflights, anything that she can do to get her jollies. And if she can get friends to join in, so much the better!
Talela Positive: Self-deprecating, caring, jocular Negative: Forgetful, sad, overestimates her abilities
You would be hard-pressed to find another old auntie as cheerful as this one. Talela, nowadays better known as "Auntie Tally," is notorious for her kindness and good humor, whatever the situation. For an older woman, she is surprisingly fit and physically capable -- likely due to her bond with Vimiath. Age has slowed her down some, but she still works light duty, both in her capacity as a dragonrider and in the creche, when she can get away with it.
She always had a way with younglings that was playful, but also built up trust and obedience. She's fostered at least fifty children for varying lengths of time, and can still remember all of them by name, even though most days she can barely remember her own. She'd probably forget it completely if not for Vimiath's telepathic chatter giving her constant reminders. Not that it matters, really. "Auntie" is a perfectly suitable substitute by her book.
Talela's forgetfulness also sometimes causes her to forget just exactly how old she is. Those are the times she'll flirt with one of those handsome young dragonmen, or, alarmingly, try to insert herself and Vimiath into a position of higher altitude during Threadfall. So far, the damage has been minimal, thanks to Vimiath and Western residents who know Auntie Tally's silly ways.
She doesn't often talk about her dearly departed weyrmate Jylacus, even with her dragon, preferring that she and Vimiath focus on the present and remain a positive force for those who may look up to them. There are nights, though, when she lies awake, curled around his pillow and wishing to be with him again, wherever he is.
Please note, Talela’s and Vimiath’s weyr is at ground level, carved into the caldera wall – for those who might be looking for it! Talela is 73, quite youthful and healthy for her age but she won’t mind if the winner has different tastes and uses a stand-in. Vimiath is only 44, still young! She will invite the winner into her court and will greatly favor him for some time, but likely will not take him as a permanent mate.
(Mostly) Important stuff: - All males who have a reason to be at Western are qualified to chase. You can make up an NPC rider and dragon pair to use for the flight if you don’t already have one! - The winner will be selected from bronze or brown males only. It will be randomized from the two highest-scoring males PLUS a third “dark horse,” chosen by Teiha. The dark horse may have the lowest score, or may be chosen for some other reason, such as quality/effort of RP. So don’t give up all hope if your rolls come up lousy! - Each round will last up to two days. Date and time for the end of each round will be posted in red! I may roll again on the same day if all entrants have rolled and completed their RP posts! - Your points will be halved for a round if you roll but do not add any RP to the post. - If you are unable to roll for a round, you will receive 0 points for that round but may continue on and roll for the next one! - As always, please keep track of your own score! - The player of the daddy dragon will have the opportunity to write up one of the babies from the soon-to-come clutch! - STAFF MAY ENTER! 8D
- A Western Weyr resident: +5pts - Rider age 40 and up: +2pts - Rider under age 30: -2pts
Please distribute your total points in the below stats based on your dragon’s history and personality.
Strength: Speed: Dexterity: Stamina: Wits:
Your first post should be at least a few sentences about your dragon’s “entrance” into the chase, plus your final chosen stat distribution for the game. My next post will be considered "Round One" and will start the actual dice rolling. You have two days to get in your entry! The first round for dice rolling will begin in the evening on Tuesday, October 3rd!
Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2017 5:28 pm
NPC Bronze Tamlienth
Determining Your Male's Stats: Base points for bronze: 45pts +10 age +10 fit and motivated (Or his muse threw one hell of a fit I wasn't including this)
Please distribute your total points in the below stats based on your dragon’s history and personality.
Tamlienth woke to lightning, the heavy scent of ozone and coming rain and sharp tang of lust all mixed in the stifling heat. It was dark and the thunder clash and roar, lightning zigzagging in the air. It was time, and he might not have been a native but she was raising and he was honor bent to meet her and give her his best. He shook himself, reaching out, voice reaching out for his rider.
'Ra'fe, wake. She rises and I must answer!' He called, excitement curling and eyes whirling. 'I...'
'It is fine, Tam,' Ra'fe muttered, tired and preparing for a bit of a rough night. He moved out, looking out over the storm, the lightning and coiling darkness of stars broken by flashes. 'Show her what you are made of.'
'Well, if she would have me,' Tamlienth replied and launched himself up towards the queen. 'I join, thee, in the dark of nights and approaching storm, lovely Vimiath, to prove my worth.'
Info on Dragon and Rider below
Name:Ra’fe Age:37 Sex:Trans Man Sexual Preference: Demi Ace and major shrug Physical Description: There is military form to Ra’fe’s stance. Not quite at attention, well dressed if plainly, and clear alert eyes, he is ready for something to happen. Ra’fe is slender, built much more along the lines of a feline and short, reaching 5’6’’ in height. He certainly isn’t an intimidating appearing man.
He is rather striking, with an angular jawline, sidewise cheekbones, warm golden brown eyes, and a strong aquiline hawk noise. His hair is black, thick, reaching down to his mid back and has a trace of white at the temples. He keeps his hair pulled back in an ornamental hair clasp.
Ra’fe detests jewelry with an exception of his ornamental hair clasps. Necklaces can be pulled to choke a person. Rings can get snagged. Earrings torn out. The clasps tend to be heavy allowing him to toss his head and use it as an improve weapon in an emergency.
Personality: Ra’fe is a solider at heart, and a follower of rationality and calm, collected, clear-headed thoughts. You can’t eat honor and it certainly isn’t going to allow you to live. Duels land what should be allies onto a med bed in the infirmary or in death. Revenge and vengeance are on another level. The level of cold, and rightful anger and things that needed to be calculated for best results. As much as Ra’fe has daydreamed a bit about revenge and vengeance against some rather irritating bronze rider, but at the heart of it, they are pompous idiots. He shouldn’t let them get to him. Even if he is tempted to bribe someone in laundry to misplace that ridiculous pompous hat.
At the cusp of that matter is that no one has done anything fiendish enough for Ra'fe to put himself above the group's welfare. At least in taking it any farther then particularly bad smack down during a training spar. He's more mature then he was when he was a brat and jealous of his uncle's apprentice.
Despite the fact he finds most of the riders he works with to be pompous children, he does care for them. They are his unit and while he can’t shape them up to his level, he can certainly keep an eye on them. Even if that is telling someone to shut their mouth, with a less then polite elbow into the ribs.
He has a rather stern nature, it seeps into his posture, with a straight back and vigilant gaze. He comes across as gruff, tending to be straightforward in his criticism. Relaxation is a slid from vigilant to merely observant. Ra’fe is in general just a serious person. He equates work with pride and good work only happens with concentration and control.
His skills are something Ra’fe takes pride in and he finds it irritating that random circumstance instead of hard work is what separates wings. He wouldn't trade Ban for the world, but he wants to be noticed for his skills, not what color his dragon's hide is.
Three Positive Traits:Rational, Caring, loyal Three Negative Traits: Gruff, Stubborn, Tense, chip on a shoulder for seeing special or more fit because they are a bronze rider and not because of skills or merit. Some what competitive.
History: : Ra'fe grew up with his uncle in Tillek hold, while his father was off at sea and his mother who knows where. His uncle not to sure how to raise a infant decided that one they would figure out gender things and name things after Rafafe showed an interest in one or another and two find a wetnurse to help out. Probably tack on some letters or take some out. It was clear very quickly that Rafafe wanted to be a boy and some what relieved his uncle continued to care and teach him, apprenticing him early as a blade smith and teaching him about hard work, commitment, and pride in skillful craftmanship.
Puberty was absolute hell on all three of them. He had never seen his uncle blush before. His dad general feeling is don't talk about it, and nope. It was around then when his uncle took on another apprentice and Rafafe was jealous at the other boy who why not a quick or having as fine touch was certainly stronger and able to do things that he struggled under the weight of. He did walk the table as a journeyman at 22, slightly irritated that Jasin has managed at 21 and it irritated him.
Tillek goods were done right without cutting corners and he liked to consider them some of the best. It wasn't meant to be though, he was in High Reaches Hold to deliver a blade when he got invited to accompany his client to the Weyr to see the hatching. He went out of curiosity and to get an bit of inspiration for a project. It wasn't a large clutch being a queens maiden flight but the hatchings were certainly worth staying a bit longer. He also felt that there was something he wasn't quite getting as people chattered about the draognets currently out, mainly shades of blue and greens and occasional brown.
The biggest egg hatched towards the end to untold excitement as a hint of something bronze flashed and the egg finally broke spilling out a dragonet. Which everyone seemed to be excited about? Certainly the boys in candidate robes started to stand up more straight. The bronze though careened straight into the girls, seemly ignoring all the boys. Crashed into his mother before waddling off into the boys as if directed.
Ra'fe will say Tamlienth while very elegant now was a very clumsy hatching.
The minutes ticked by and soon the bronze was the only one left, frustrated and looked up towards the sands.
His life changed rapidly, perhaps others would say for the better but now he was a rider not a sword smith. He was a bronze rider and some how that was better because he was getting suddenly more attention then the others in his group. It ranked on him that he was not being judged soley on his merit but on Tamlienth’s hide coloration though he would never give up his dragon.
Ra'fe remained in the weyr till thread fall because it was his weyr, where he impressed perhaps out of mistaken loyalty and that they had not crossed that line to make him leave. And then they crossed it. It was Tamlienth home. In was a commitment, Ra'fe follow through with his commitments even when he never signed up for them. But he just can’t see or stand the thoughts of green and blues just being thread folder. So he filed for transfer to western in the last turn. Flights are something he and Tamlienth are still working out, but things are getting somewhat better. He doesn't like not being in control of his emotions and spends flights in his weyr.
Feel of voice: The crackle of frost and crisp chilled mountain peaks, the undertone of pine branches, and the watchful feeling of night shining eyes skittering in the night snow.
Appearance: Small in size, and mainly dull in color, Tamlienth is not an impressive bronze. At thirty five feet in length from horn nubs to tail tip, he is built for speed and agile twists.
His shade of bronze is mainly dark, aged metal that is occasionally broken up with spattering and flecks of new minted color that makes him appear older than his years. His flash, a tapering flare of bright bronze that starts from his right nostril and up his head and down his neck, where it spays off into three separate strikes.
Personality: : If Ra’fe is a solider, then Tamlienth is a knight. He is honorable, obeying a strict code of rules, do not lie, and always attack head one being the major two. There was always announce yourself in battle, but Ra’fe wasn’t going to have it and Tamlienth edited to announce yourself in a duel. Ra’fe is letting that one lie, though he finds dueling to be idiotic. And his rider is very much is lord, and Tamlienth is loyal. In the hierarchy of authority, Tan listens foremost to his rider.
There is a lot of social grace in this small bronze. He makes a very firm effort into remembering everyone’s names. He loves gossip in all forms, one has to network, yes, and general needs to know what is going on now. ‘I’m sorry, to overhear, but what was that?’ It will not due for him to be blindsided, not at all. He is polite and courteousness to all, disregarding if he enjoys their company or not.
Meddling Tamlienth has long grieved over his riders, his lords, lack of courtesy and socialization in general. His rider is smart, and clever, and certainly has skills with his hand and body, but he could use a little polish when it comes to being polite. And what could be better than setting his rider up with someone?
Though humans are rather funny things, aren’t they? Fragile, and needy, and just so, so tiny. Most of them can’t even communicate correctly. Tamlienth is a tad elitist, not about colorist, but species. He’ll tolerate humans, finds them adorable in their weird bipedal ways, but ultimately, it would be better for them if they were all bonded to something that talked properly. Even flits manage to communicate in images, it just so much more convenient. Poor, things, they are so very deaf.
While Tamlienth will apologize to a dragon for overhearing their conversation, humans are freegame because they certainly need someone to watch out for them. He is also a major romantic prone to falling in love with ladies and gents and waxing poetically at their perfection.
Shaddaling
Wrathful Shapeshifter
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demon_pachabel Crew
Beloved Werewolf
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Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2017 5:53 pm
MINE.
Phylideth had been a bit more up and at it since the pair had been given their newest honor: Wingleader. The brown hadn't been pleased with the choices in Wingsecond (a bronze? How dare!) but the more T'mor had focused the brown on it, the less his childlike tantrums had reared their heads. Yet a tone he was far too familiar with pierced through his mind, interrupting a dream of a farm with a cute wife and an adorable child. Shells, how many times had he dreamed of a little tyke of his own? It seemed whenever it happened, however, his actual 6-year-old's thoughts would go rearing thru his head.
Phylideth? It took but a moment for the roaring of a familiar feeling to rip through him - stronger than any greenflight, more desperate than any greenflight. A queen? T'mor barely had to ask before the rumbling impatience of the brown filtered through him, pulling the man from bed. He never fought it - there was no point in fighting it. I'm GOING. The brown didn't ask permission, but T'mor granted it anyways.
From his ledge, the brown could see the lovely gold - much older than his vigorous youth - taking to the air. A deep inhale and he roared out, desire lacing his bellows openly and with no shame as he dropped from the ledge, spreading his wings to grab the air and with a single stroke of his wings, taking to the air with another bugle.
The storm and the darkness will not keep me from you, lovely Vimiath! he called, yet as others approached red began to whirl through his purple eyes and a territorial grumble vibrated through his chest.
She's not yours until she's in your claws, Phylideth. T'mor warned, pulling on a tunic as he exited his weyr and began the venture to go find the lucky lady who would have her pick of suitors that night. It seemed it was dear prolific Vimiath, which meant....down. He needed to head down.
---
About Phylideth Pros: Eager, Attentive, Finish-what-you-started Cons: Bratty, Easily-angers, Selfish
About T'mor Pros: Hardworking, Protective, Steadfast Cons:Self-Sacrificing, Stick-in-the-mud, slow-to-start
Phylideth's Stats Brown Dragon: +40 5 Turns: +2 Motivated: +10 Native to Western: +5 27 years old: -2 (55)
Strength: 13 Speed: 11 Dexterity: 14 Stamina: 12 Wits: 5 (he is not a wordsmith)
Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2017 6:27 pm
NPC R'tansky and Bronze Atalith
Nights had always been the hardest for R'tansky to sleep during. They were filled with nightmares of when Thread returned. They were always filled with the enemy falling from the sky over Monaco Weyrhold, urgency to run to the farmstead where the woman he loved lived with her family and their daughter. Everything destroyed and gone. It had taken Atalith forcing his rider back onto his back to get them to safety, both with scars on them. It was why R'tansky was leaned against the trunk of a large tree, eyes his staring up at the sky. He dreaded sleep and it seemed today was a good night not to have fallen asleep.
Atalith stood a bit away from him, his eyes whirling as his body was tensed as if ready to snap. There was something in the air and it was more then the storm that was beginning to approach. R'tanskymine. A gold rises this night, she calls and screams through the storm, ready and willing for all that will chase. The large bronze turned his head to look at his rider eyes whirling between purple and red, as if threatening the man to stop him.
"Go Atalith. Let them see your speed." The bronze was gone before R'tansky could finish his words and he sighed. He had kept Atalith back for so a year, keeping himself away from others and away from other dragons. He had felt the yearning and aching in his dragon and it hurt him, now was the best time. Flight lust was not something R'tansky wanted to feel ever again, especially not having her by his side, he yearned for the love of his life and she was not here.
Atalith had taken flight like a bolt shooting towards the caldera where the lovely gold was, she had already garnered other suitors, but he was not worried, he knew he was fast for his size and he longed to show his speed off again to other dragons. A Lightning Storm will not scare me lovely gold. Atalith will chase you through the clouds and around the bolts as they strike down. He let out a bellow that sounded like a low roar, as if an unearthly rumble was starting.
Both R'tansky and Atalith are currently mercenaries near the area of Western Weyr. Something to know about R'tansky's history is the fact that he lost everything after thread fell, his weyrmate and daughter were killed while he was busy trying to protect a weyr that fell anyways. He was too late to save them and it has caused the rider to be solitary and distant from everyone. Atalith does his best to keep his lifemate from going deeper into a hole and he longs for a chance to get them back into a weyr.
Z'haq awoke from a fairly sound sleep despite the storm raging outside. Rolling onto his back, he scrubbed his face with his hands. He had just had a very vivid dream of a somewhat... odd nature. So vivid was the dream that he almost felt as if he was still in it. It was then that he heard Eorawth bugling out on his ledge.
Eo, beloved, are you alright?
Vimiath RISES! came the reply, accompanied by the crash of thunder and a loud bugling. I MUST GO!I must chase her! Catch her!
Sitting up, Z'haq shoved his dreadlocks back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Well, that explained the dream, and the feeling... So go! What's stopping you?
LYRAETH! I cannot betray Lyraeth! The bronze bugled again, and this time there was a plaintive tone to his bugling.
Z'haq sighed and shook his head. "Get going, you big dimglow. I'll talk to Resa and she'll smooth it out." He wanted to find Resa anyway -- if Vimiath was the queen who was rising, that meant Auntie Tally was the rider, and he... had to think about it...
With a roar, Eorawth launched himself from his ledge. Glorious Vimiath, Eorawth comes for you! I will chase you through storm and lightning until you are mine!
******* About Eorawth: Pros: Easy-going, supremely confident, intelligent Cons: Not very competitive, tells dad jokes, too daredevil-ish at times
About Z'haq: Pros: Easy-going, natural leader, fearless Cons: Slow-burn temper, confidence issues, pickpockets for fun
Ah’i had spent the night alone in his bed for once, dreaming of the time he had first met and impressed with Honath. While the brown had been a new hatchling, he had still been much larger than most of his clutch and the boy had experienced emotions and a love that went beyond anything he could have ever imagined or conjured up. He had cried at the moment of impression and held the dragonet to his chest to just be closer to him. Honath had claimed him as his and it became clear very quickly that he was possessive of his lifemate and Ah’i for the first time in his life reveled in that feeling. It was the first time that Ah’i found himself so engrossed in another being that he didn’t know where he ended and where Honath began. Even now the bond they shared was just as strong and something the pair encouraged just like any other dragon/rider pair.
Honath felt a shiver down his spine when the call from the gold rose. It was the first time that Honath had ever been close to a gold flight and he was determined to fly with her. Ah’i he called loudly through their bond. As he called for his rider, he quickly rushed out of his den and twitched his tail in expectation.
Ah’i woke with a start and an overwhelming amount of feelings he had never felt before and it took him a few moments to realize that it had been Honath’s feelings being projected at him. And then another moment until he realized what was happening. I will have her, Honath told Ah’i through their bond and the young man stuttered out his approval. ”G-g-go Honath! Show her what you’re made of!” Ah’i cheered his brown on.
No further permission was needed as Honath flew up into the arms of the storm after the gold.There is nothing and no one who could keep you from me beautiful Vimiath! You will be mine!He roared for the gold and all to hear as his eyes began to turn red.
Ah’i breathed in deeply and began getting dressed, knowing that before the night was through he would be getting no sleep. He grinned, knowing that the emotions he was feeling through his bond were fueling his own desires.
D'zek was fast asleep when the storm struck, thunder or no. The new duties of a wingsecond hit the already work-driven bronzerider harder than he'd expected. It didn't help that Jageth kept dragging them off on impromptu searches or side missions every chance he got.
It wasn't until that dragon's sharp voice spoke in his mind that D'zek finally stirred. Mine! She rises! The wonderful Vimiath. She is like a wreath of fire in the night sky. "Mhmm..? Okay, have fun then.." D'zek mumbled rolling over in bed and closing his eyes again. Next thing he knew, Jageth's tail hit the floor with a crack, shaking his bed like a thunderclap. Pay attention!
"Right right." D'zek muttered sleepily, but he did eventually pull himself up in bed. Jageth's eyes were turned towards the darkened sky as he sat out on his ledge and lightning broke behind him. What a time to rise. D'zek thought, rubbing one eye. That can't be safe.
Jageth was in no way deterred however, and if anything, seemed more enthused. He always did like things with a little more danger in them. Pay attention. he repeated, the anger gone from his voice this time. Replaced only with raw desire and anticipation. This will be a flight worth watching! he said as he took off from his ledge after the gold.
A'iel had never worked so hard in his life as he had since becoming a wingsecond. It wasn't that the work was too much, or that it was especially taxing, but he was wholly devoted, and determined to prove that T'mor had not made a poor choice in one as young as him. He trained hard and long, running through drills long after the day's training had ended, and the end result was that the young man had fallen face first into his bed after dinner and been out like a light, barely managing to get his boots off before drifting away. Nasath hadn't been tired, but the workhorse of a dragon never was, and had looked on with vague interest as other dragons had whiled away her evening.
It was Nasath's brassy bugle that woke A'iel, startling him out of his bed and onto the floor, scrabbling about as if he could find his wits beside his shoes. "Nasath...? Wha—?"
Now is the time, A'iel! She is rising, and she is golden, and she is glorious! Look how furious she is, there in the storm! The bronze had left his stone couch to perch on the very edge of the weyr's lip, wings half lifted already to cup and snap lightly against the gusting wind. His bulk dipped as he leaned too far, one claw slipping on the wet stone before he could catch himself, tail snapping like a great feline preparing to pounce. Phylideth is up there too...and others, of course (she's worth them all and more besides!) but I must go too! She calls for the best, and so, of course, I must go to her! The bronze's squat back end bunched, compressing before he leapt up, wings like thunder chasing after the lightning bolt of the gold's shape through the torrent.
Vimiath! The most towering black storm cloud would fail to hide your beauty! Your shape across the moon will haunt a hundred dreams tonight, so achingly lovely it is! But lovelier still I think if you had mine beside yours!
Still in a daze below, A'iel had crawled half way to the door of his weyr before he managed to push himself to his feet—unbooted feet, at that. Who rode Vimiath? What candlemark was it? Which way...? He'd moved weyrs when he became Wingsecond, and he'd barely learned the way to the first one...One hand on the wall to help find his way through the dark, he groped along, leaving his weyr's door hanging wide open behind him like the dark mouth of some huge beast.
Nasath's Stats: Bronze Dragon: 45pts Between 6-20 turns: +10 points Fit/Motivated: +10 points A Western Weyr resident: +5pts Rider under age 30: -2pts 68pts
While a storm brewed over Western Weyr, the weather was not afoul off the coast of Tilek Hold. Jacomus, fresh from one of his infrequent baths, walked up to Kraketh, who seemed to be vibrating. "Kraketh? What's wrong?"
The bronze dragon's great head swung around, as Fish and Marsh circled in agitated flight, chittering away, A queen rises this day.
Letting out a huff, the pirate gave his lifemate a pat on the shoulder, "Well, we're NOT going back to High Reaches just so you can chase a pretty tail. I might wind up at risk of being with more than just that... Rather terrifying woman."
She is at Western. It'd be a good home for us, J'musmine. No pressure for what I am.
Jacomus was quiet as he thought about it. Fish settled on his shoulder, the blue flit trembling, and Jacomus reached up to gently scratch at the creature's cheek, chin, throat, neck, until it'd been calmed even slightly.
We cannot continue like this, J'mus, we NEED to join a Weyr. We don't know when Thread will fall and we may be caught unawares. I am not ready to go Between forever yet if something happens to you. Please...
Rubbing his face, Jacomus groaned out, "Fine! If you can catch the queen, we'll stay! But the moment they put any heavy expectations on us because you're a Bronze, we're OUT of there, you understand?"
Kraketh pushed his face against Jacomus' chest, rumbling, Yes. Thank you, J'mus. He shifted, allowing his rider onto his back. When Jacomus was well secured, he launched from the cave and took to the air. Fish and Marsh vanished from where they flew beside him, before soon returning to Jacomus.
He gripped Kraketh's neck ridge in front of him, shoulders tensing. "You're taking us into a STORM?!"
Just show me where to go! We've never been to Western!
Shaking his head, Jacomus shared the image with Kraketh. They were soon in the ice cold nothing and sensory deprivation that was between, before they came out in darkness and lightning flashes over a Weyr that was incredibly warm. For one panic-riddled moment, Jacomus thought they were at Southern again, but nothing was familiar beyond the image Fish and Marsh had given him. Kraketh angled down, landing long enough to allow his rider off, and then he was in the air, letting out as mighty a roar as he could
I come for you, my dear! I have crossed the ocean for you!
Shuddering, Jacomus went to find shelter from the rain. Western, Southern, or High Reaches, rain was misery and he wanted well and out of it!
--
Kraketh's Stats: Bronze Dragon: +45 Between 6-20 Turns: +10 Fit/Motivated: +10 Rider under 30: -2 63
Fi'o hated leaving Bitra. There was very little she ever needed or wanted that she couldn't get there, so why in Faranth's name would she want to leave her home to go anywhere else, let alone to a Weyr? Occasional errands to another Hold were all well and good, but going anywhere near a Weyr was very close to the top of her list of Do Not Wants. And yet here she was, camped out in the dark in weather that was rapidly deteriorating; back in her mercenary days, sleeping rough in all manner of elements had been perfectly normal, nothing to bat an eye at, but she'd gotten used to her soft bed and well-appointed lodgings.
Lodgings that were the result of her employment, which every once in awhile included an errand. This time, she'd been sent to fetch back on of the brothel-girls, who'd been Searched and soon after decided that Weyr life was not quite as glamorous as she'd pictured it. Candidacy, after all, was very hard and often dirty work. Akaris had found that it disagreed with her, and Fi'o couldn't say she was surprised. What she was was annoyed: annoyed that Akaris, despite ample warning, wasn't ready to go when Fi'o arrived. Couldn't it wait until the morning? Her things weren't quite packed, and she had a 'friend' to say goodbye to. A friend. Right.
So here sat Fi'o under the wing of her snoring dragon, not quite as far from the Weyr proper as she would have liked to be, but if that were the case, well, she'd be on the other side of the continent. Between the discomfort and thr impending weather, she wasn't likely to get much sleep tonight. She should have just made Akaris come with her, ready or not, but she was a sucker for a pretty, pouting face. Shaffit.
And just to add to the delightful night she was having, an unmistakable roar broke the air, giving her just enough warning to keep from toppling over when Ivanhoth started to his feet with a bugle. Mine, Mine, she is Rising! Can I go, please, pretty please? It has been so long!
She could have told him no, and he would have listened, but she didn't have the heart, even if it meant she'd be getting a lot wetter without his wings to shield her from the rain. It had been well over a turn since he'd so much as been involved in a Flight, green or gold, much less won one, although privately she doubted her little brown's chances. But, hey, this was Western. Go on, then. Have your fun.
Thank you, myFi'o! You are the best! The brown bounded jubilantly out into the open, and used his powerful hind legs to launch himself into the air with another bugle. Oh, hello! Hello, lovely gold! It is a wonderful night, such a pretty night you've chosen! I think maybe a little dangerous, but very pretty, so maybe you have something in common with it? Mostly the wonderfulness, though. Mostly.
About Ivanhoth Pros: courteous, easygoing, people-pleaser Cons: nosy, follower, gullible
About Fi'o Pros: tough, protective, loyal Cons: combative, suspicious, harsh
N'var might have dealt with self worth issues, but not Licerth. Once the brown heard the gold's call, he was ready. He bugles in response to Vimiath's roar.
Mine, I am going! She is rising and I will chase! Perhaps to catch her.
N'var was baffled. "In this storm? You'll never be able to see her in this."
I will. And I will catch her, maybe! You'll see, mine. You'll be proud of me!]
(Will add more it's 7am and preparing for school)
~~~
Base points for brown: 40pts - Between 6-20 turns: +10 points - Average/Normal: +5 points - A Western Weyr resident: +5pts - Rider under age 30: -2pts Total: 58
It had been a peaceful day. He'd spent some time settling in to his role as Wingleader, working with Bahrain on a small Wingdrill for thread, though they were safe. The older man had been enjoying the sounds of the storm, watching as Sigurath took a moment to lay beside him. The warm bronze hide was always comforting to the man, his fingers moving to stroke the glittering metallic. All these years later, and it still awed him that he'd become a Bronzerider. Just about to drift in to sleep, it took the man a while to realize the feeling that had begun to twist his gut. The strike of lightning, nothing, though something inside rolled, warning the rider of the impending occurence, one that had him glancing at his lifemate.
Sigurath's eyes were whirling, a mix of orange, green, and purple, sickening to watch with how fast they all danced together. The bronze seemed intent on something, his wings shifting as he slowly misplaced his rider, and stepped to the ledge of their weyr. Oh, he could feel what Sigurath was thinking, and a delicate hand reached up to stroke the male's nose, My Sigurath...I know that when any female calls, you chase...So go, my beloved. Show them how you chase. There was an acknowledging rumble, and he spread his wing and shot out of the ledge and in to the sky, his glittering hide joining the hoard of males that were there before him, Here in the sky, as the storm rages, we follow.
Bronze wings beat strongly as he studied the raging female, feeling his own Rider suffering from the lust that he was enjoying. Ah, perhaps it wasn't fair that he was finding such pleasure in it...and that H'ral was not, but right now? That had no bearing. Right now it was only beautiful Vimiath. He bugled loudly, hovering in the sky as he enjoyed the storm on his hide. Oh, how wonderous, Beautiful Vimiath, rising on the wings of the storm suits you! As powerful as the lightning and beautiful as the thunder! Will you not honor me with your gaze~?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- H'ral and Bronze Sigurath
H'ral has been established in Western for a long time. As a Wingleader now, his new responsibilities seem to have settled in well with him. He's made a name for being the man that usually avoids company, even during the Goldflights, and has a hesitance to take a long term weyrmate, though no one's sure why, since he does have children, and dotes on them lovingly. He is a father first and foremost,
H'ral is a loving and wiilling personality, though he isn't afraid to make decisions that need to be made within his own life. He stands with Western, and with his Dragon, and even at 52, he's still just as energetic as he was when he was 16.
Sigurath may be older than some dragons, but call him old, and the dragon will show you why he has made it this long. He is proud to stand at the side of ANY lady that flies, finding favor in their lovely hides, and enjoying far more the thrill of the chase. He is a poetic soul, and the most doting of males, wanting only to ensure that his lover is cared for and content.
This is especially true of Golds. While Sigurath cares little for the color of hide, something about the glitter of gold gets his heart singing, and he will dote upon them more than most. He would go to the ends of Pern and back to do whatever it was they asked of him, after all.
Sigurath's Stats: Bronze Dragon: +45 Between 21-35 turns: +7 points Fit/Motivated: +10 A Western Weyr resident: +5pts Rider age 40 and up: +2pts
Keahith's head lifted up slightly from a combination of the gold's cry and the lightning. Nedrima, however, popped up the instant Keah moved and registered the gold calling for all the males. He rumbled unhappily as he stood and walked to the ledge. Nedri pulled the covers around herself for a moment as the pulling on the edge of her consciousness from the beginning of the flight. "You know you should go, even if it is during a storm." She got another unhappy rumble from her moody brown as he launched his slim body into the air. He was not happy that it was occuring during a storm but he also knew he'd be unable to resist if he waited. Nedrima knew as well and wished her brown luck. She dressed slowly and debated on holing up in her weyr or if she should try to find some other rider, there'd be no short supply of flight-lusty bronze riders...
Base points for brown: 40pts - Between 6-20 turns: +10 points - Average/Normal: +5 points - A Western Weyr resident: +5pts - Rider under age 30: -2pts Total: 58 points
Thath woke H'ner with a loud and desperate bellow. MINE!!! I will chase! I will catch her! I WILL WIN! H'ner groaned and rolled back over to bury his head into his bed. Have fun.... The reply was fogged with sleep and the strong desire to go back to his dreaming. It was simple fact that the bronze would rise to meet Vimiath's challege. He was hard pressed to ignore anything that was the slightest bit shiny, and the gold was positively radiant on a normal day. The bronze lept from their ledge and bugled his arrival to the world as he made for where the gold was, Vimiath! Radiant beauty! You pick the best time to rise. What better way to shine than against the pitch black sky to highlight how you shimmer! Your Thath shall rise to any challege you give him!
For his part H'ner tried to ignore the shared feelings of lust that rolled off of the bronze, but it was much harder done than said. With an annoyed sigh he sat up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to untangle it so he could pull it out and away from his face. He slid on a pair of breeches and slid his feet into his boots before heading out of his weyr to wander the halls. It was Vimiath rising, which meant that it was Auntie Tally waiting in her weyr...the thought trailed off as he considered the full ramifications of that. While she was still very attractive for her age, she well and truly lived up to her name in H'ner's eyes.
Base points for bronze: 45pts Between 6-20 turns: +10 points Average/Normal: +5 points A Western Weyr resident: +5pts Total: 65 points
H'ner Positive Trait List: Not hasty in making decisions, Soft-spoken, Concerned for Others Negative Trait List: Mischievous, Lazy, Uncertain of himself
Calm and quiet, H'ner likes to think things through thoroughly before making a decision. This is a double-edged sword for him he's discovered. On the one hand, he rarely makes a decision that he regrets later in life, and it gives him the air of someone much older than he truly is. On the other, it sets him apart from others his age. He's frequently teased for being 'slow-witted' because of his long hesitation in answering even the simplest of questions.
He's very soft spoken. His tone is quiet and words kind and calm. His intelligence and responsibility make him someone that people tend to rely on, even without thinking about it. If something needs to be done, he's usually there and doing it before its even brought up to him.
H'ner is very concerned about the wellness and happiness of others. He tends to try and please each individual as well as make decisions that benefits the greater group all at once. If it becomes obvious that a decision can't be made that fulfills both, he chooses the path that gets him closest. He often seeks out the advice and opinions of others, feeling that hearing a variety of opinions will help him see the greater picture. He feels that he's a good leader, but is still unsure of his decisions at times. He often doubts himself and his ability to properly lead, which in turn pushes him to try harder. Sometimes he needs to hear confirmation that he's doing a good job.
Like any boy who was a weyrbrat, he has a mischievous streak. If there's rumors of a flit nest, he's there to search for it. If there's something to explore or get into, you can expect him to be shirking his more mundane duties to be there to lead the way. Just like when he was younger it tends to get him in trouble, though not nearly as often anymore.
He also has a tendency to be lazy, often using candidates to oil Thath for him, or finding any way he can to skip out on his chores while still making sure that they get done. Drills and wing-meetings are different stories entirely though. He's eager to prove himself, and enjoys the feelings that come with his more exciting responsibilities.
Thath Thath has a fondness for the niceties of life, and knows just how to get them. This carries on into most everything he does, as Thath is highly ambitious. He feels that as a pair, he and H'ner deserve only the best and highest stations in life. Despite his ambition though, he can be a bit lazy, spending hours sunning himself or watching and teasing the heardbeasts like the glutton he is. Candidates would be well advised to watch any spare food around this great oaf. When it comes time to get serious though he's quite a different dragon. He lives to fly and show off what he's capable of, be it during drills or a mating flight. If a female rises, you can expect Thath to be right there to chase her. And he's convinced he's got what it takes to catch a gold one day.
A bit like an over grown flit at times, Thath has an immature streak in him that seems to bring out the mischeivious and adventurous side of H'ner. Like the dragons of myth and legend he has an attraction to anything shiny or forbidden to the two of them. He's more than willing to waste an entire afternoon to go out searching with H'ner for buried treasure or new discoveries. His observant nature extends beyond his search for treasure though, which makes him an excellent candidate to lead his wing in searching for lost things. It also provides him with the knowledge of who might be injured or off their game which he promptly relays to H'ner.
When it comes to his rider, Thath can be very jealous and possessive. As exhibited by his anger at the idea that H'ner was paying more attention to the two fighting bronzes at their hatching than to himself. Although he regrets hurting the man now, he feels it was a good lesson to them both. They are each others, and no one else is worth looking twice at.
In counterpoint to H'ner's slower decisions, Thath is able to make educated and quick decisions that usually reflects the best outcome for any situation. Where H'ner tries to keep both group and individual foremost in his mind, Thath focuses on the best interests of the group as a whole.
DarkHikari
Shadowy Seeker
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Hattaki Crew
Lonely Phantom
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Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2017 8:46 pm
NPC C'nat and Bronze Aratasth
A particularly loud crack of lightning ripped the sky above Western Weyr apart and stole the breath of both man and beast. C'nat, eyes closed but certainly more awake than his prone form would indicate, listened to the rumbling aftershocks as they spread across the lands outside the Weyr. Rain drummed into the dirt, splattering it all over and releasing the scent of petrichor through the humid night air. He opened his eyes to stare into the darkness of the canopy above him and let out a sigh when he realized that he was starting to get wet. Compounded by the heat that had made this trip particularly unbearable from the start, C'nat was growing crankier by the minute. Cold rain on a hot night was one thing, warm rain quite another.
Only I shall have her!
Aratasth's form loomed large in the darkness above him, thrown into stark relief by an errant bolt of light. The wing that had been covering his now soaking body was flapping along with its mate to keep the large bronze perched on his hind legs, front claws slashing at the night sky. The whirling purple of his eyes bore into C'nat through the rain and inky black, confusion banged around in his head but desire flooded through his entire body.
A roar tore the night. A flash of gold streaked across the sky, small from a distance but distinct all the same.
C'nat rubbed his face in exhaustion and sat up slowly, every muscle in his back protesting the new position. Long days and nights of travelling had tweaked his back, still sore from the last time he had fought Thread in his former Weyr. That had been weeks ago now and the silvery scar on his left arm was still healing. Their travels afterwards had certainly sapped every ounce of his energy and he had thought that Aratasth had suffered from the same afflictions that he could feel so strongly. How he could even desire to rise to follow the glittering gold dragon was beyond his exhausted rider.
Share in my strength, the Gold will be mine this night! When dawn rises tomorrow you will have forgotten your exhaustion beloved C'nat.
The darkness hid the look that C'nat flashed in the direction of his large bronze but the dragon gave a humming laugh in response to his frustration. The beleagured rider laughed harshly in response and rose to dig through his packs for a food ration and a rain cover, his night was about to become longer and wetter if Aratasth left. C'nat sighed, like he would stop him. When Aratasth was like this it was impossible to argue, no matter their state of affairs or the exhaustion that was spreading through him even now, the large bronze was crackling with energy. As the lightning struck through the night it seemed to give him strength, make him glow with a vibrancy that he hadn't seen in a while.
"The heat of the West agrees with you. Don't get used to this humidity Tasth!" He grumbled and wrapped himself in the rain cover, not bothering to set it up as it seemed fruitless. "Fly if you must, go to her. We have a long day tomorrow though, remember your duty!"
A swift rush of uplifting dragon was all that he felt, Aratasth's wings taking him far and fast, off towards the Weyr the two had sought, off toward the gold that was so surrounded by dragons already. Lightning flashed, purple swirled to orange irritation at the sight of all the other dragons in the sky, after the gold that only he would have! Just try my brothers, this night's victory shall belong to me!
C'nat slumped against the rough bark of the closest tree and closed his eyes again. He could hear Aratasth's bugles over the thunder and rain, could hear his thoughts screaming in his own mind as desire drove him. The tired rider rubbed a hand over the bark of the tree and sighed out his own desires to the silence of the forest.
About Aratasth Positive: Disciplined, Kind, Wise, Loyal Negative: Reserved, Cunning, Vain, Shy
About C'nat Positive: Relaxed, Mellow, Understanding, Quiet Negative: Overprotective, Insecure, Holds a grudge, Too cautious
Aratasth's Stats: Bronze Dragon: 45 pts Between 6-20 turns: +10 pts Fit/Motivated: +10 pts Rider age 38: +/-0 pts (65)
