Post by Tashe on May 19, 2008 23:18:17 GMT -5
Name: E'rro
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bi-sexual (leans more toward women)
Rank: Selenitas's lead Dragonhealer
(Senior Journeyman Healer)
Born: May 19, 2995
Family:
Mother: Roniani of Green Quicoteth (deceased)
Father: Er’ian of Brown Cristandrith
Brother: Er'ani of Albino Lketh
Nephew: Easrian
Neice: Rioana
Physical Appearance: If anything, the most distinguishing feature of E'rro's appearance is the scar that stretches from his Right temple to the back of the left side of his jaw. The horrible scar crosses right under his left eye, runs over the bridge of his nose and trails over his right cheek. The scar is contrasted by his slightly darker skin, and is a constant reminder of the brutality of Benden. Long, thick hair frames his face in carefully maintained waves, the dark brown almost black of his hair brings out his sharp edged hazel eyes. While these eyes are framed even more with a thin ring of black charcoal around them, somewhat like what women wear when they put make-up on, fortunately it makes him look more severe than comical. E'rro stands at just around 5' 10 and a half with no promises of growing more, but one never knows. Although the scar across his face is the most noticeable, the ones across his back are just as bad. The only thing lucky about those was that his skin didn't heal in the normal roping pattern that most whip marks did. He also has scars at random intervals down his arms, most prominently the longest one down his forearm, which he sustained from the Seige. He got a knife wound in his side, one down his left leg, and another one across his collar bone near his neck.
Clothing wise, E'rro now tends to wear short sleeved tunics and pants that fit closer to his body. He often straps on leather arm gaurds as a precaution, and he has on him both hidden and obvious weapons. Consisting mainly of throwing knives, the one skill in weaponry he had worked hard on to prefect. Though the particular colors of the outfit might change, he often wears brown and green, or completely black. The Brownrider also wears a thin, black skin tight shirt under his normal clothing layers. It was a gift from M'ta, it helped cut down on the everyday skin to skin contact that he had to endure.
Personality: E'rro isn't... the most cheerful person to be around. He tends to cast off a grumpy vibe, detering most people from trying to initiate a conversation with him. Silent unless he needs to be, the Brownrider tends only to open up to those he considers himself close to. Selfreliant and untrusting, E'rro has long since learned that superfluous trust can lead you to your death. Joking and playing aren't things that he used to do, but now he can be seen pal-ing around with people, though he reserves pet names and other things of that nature for the people who he finds deserving. Slow to anger but quick to annoy, the Brownrider never lashes out physically instead relying on his towering presence and intimidation to drive the people away. Around superiors though, he is a mask. A person to be placed and put to a task, whatever it might be. E'rro isn't an Alpha, he just isn't that type of person.
Despite the cold appearences that E'rro sometimes projects, its not uncommon to see some sort of kinder emotion pass across his face. He speaks softly to people, trying never to be condecending. Turns of living in the south has broken down the walls around his feelings, but the war continues to play them like heart strings. He is capable of public displays of happiness, comfort, playfullness... you just have to be in the right place at the right time.
E'rro dislikes physical contact. If he can avoid touching people, he will. He doesn't like the sensation that you get when another person touches your skin, it makes him feel uncomfortable. The only people to date that are allowed to touch him with out restriction are his brother, his Weyrmate, his two best friends M'ta and T'san, and of course, kids.
History:Bred, Born, and Raised because of the war, E'rro grew up in stages. His parents (Roniani and Er'ian) had been chosen and forced together because of their ideal features and firm statures, all of it in hopes that their child would grow to become an ideal looking rider, just like the dragonriding parents. Although he was conceived because of dragon lust, it did not stop his parents from caring for him when they could. When Erron had grown old enough to understand that something bad was happening around the Weyr, his parents began to secretly try and turn him against Benden. Unfortunately, they were working not only against the other riders, but against the other children as well. Erron grew up listening to both sides of the arguments, for the pride of the Weyr and one opposed to it. It wasn't long before the overwhelming force of the Benden supporters made him chose the delirium that Benden was best over those fake stories that his parents had told him. His beauty as a child gained him many adversaries in the Weyrbrat ranks, but each time he defended himself when challenged.
When he was thirteen, he was Found by a Blue while playing a 'innocent' game of Benden and Enemies, and right in the middle of calling out some order's to his troops he was whisked away to the main hall to get registered. Once, twice, three times the boy stood on the sands, and on the third try the boy Impressed a handsome Brown. It was after impressing Ismaroth that Erron, now E'rro, began to see how horrible Benden life really was. He had been so ignorant, living life around him as if nothing was happening, when everything was. Rapings, violence, and everything in between had been all around him and he felt like such a fool for not seeing it. Unfortunately his rebellious side had kicked in to late, causing him to get into more trouble than he would have when he was younger.
One such instant was on a sunny day in the middle of his Weyrling training, E'rro had had the gall to try and help a classmate who had been struck down by their instructor. For his 'show of weakness and unruliness' he was sentenced to a couple of lashings. Another such instance was when the Brownweyrling refused to practice possibly lethal fighting moves against a Benden prisoner of war. This earned him his most noticeable and harrying of scars... his instructor had had just about enough of him, and decided to teach not only E'rro a lesson, but the rest of the class. The Brownweyrling was only conscious of the searing pain that spread across his face when the instructor slashed his dagger downward. The man ordered that no one help E'rro for the remainder of the lesson, everybody adhered to that order, either afraid for their own lives or simply uncaring what happened. So he was left, writhing in pain until the end of the lesson, when a few of the braver souls in the class dragged him to the healing wing.
From the point the scar had entered his life, it had become the bane of his existence, and the subtle torment that proceeded was just about enough to push him over the edge. No longer did he value how he looked, or how anyone thought of him. No longer did he care for anyone, not even himself... he was transformed into a fighting slave, fighting for the life of his Dragon and the so called Pride of the Weyr. His eyes that were once bright and cheery had taken on a steeled edge, coupling that with the scar on his face, made the Brownweyrling look as cold as the other Benden supporters. The only thing keeping him attached to his emotions was his Ismaroth, the only one he openly showed emotions toward, emotions other than indifference and cruelty. He had to battle to survive, and he only survived for Ismaroth.
Soon after Benden was absolutely sure that E'rro was for their cause, the Weyrlingmaster ordered him to the Children's wing, a wing comprised totally of Weyrlingriders with great potential. He didn't really care anymore, were ever his superiors put him was were he would go. Taking whatever classes were pushed on him, the boy found himself studying dragonhealing, he and another would be their wing's healer's. Though he didn't get very far in his studies, being forced to practice diligently for fighting and tactics. All of Benden's enemies were the same... Fort, Selenitas, it didn't matter. It was better if you didn't see your opponents as humans anyways. He had been part of the Selentias Sky Raid, and the Dominance spectacle was no different. Landing with Ismaroth and joining the fray, E'rro obediently followed directions from one of the Bronzeriders. He was charged with trying to kill a powerfully built man, and if he didn't, Ismaroth would die. A simple everyday threat from Benden, but when they said it... they meant it. Slipping into a feral version of himself, he charged the man with his dagger. The last thing he remembered before waking up on a healing bed, was the few steps it took the man to disarm and disable him. He was stuck at Selenitas, at the enemy's weyr, and Ismaroth was not acting like himself. No matter how hard E'rro tried to persuade the Brown of escape, the dragon wouldn't hear of it.
Turns seemed to pass and the Brownrider began to age out of his young, abused teenager stage, learning that there was more to life than fighting and war. Soon enough, he became an apprentice Dragonhealer, and under Greenrider Kalierre's teachings his inate skill (that had started to grow back at Benden) began to flourish. He is a regular, if not quiet, sight at the Infirmary. All of his hate and anger toward Selenitas Weyr was steadily bleeding free from his body. But being from Benden's infamous Weyrling Wing, there were always suspisions surrounding his allegance. It didn't help his standing when he was the first person to find Shmee after her Dragon disappeared forever. Through prior training, he was able to discover the cause of her death. Poison in her Wine. It was from there that his Healer abilities were tested, as the entire Weyr began to fall sick to poisonings. Being a Dragonhealer, he had to quickly pick up Human healing techniques, because the infirmary was drastically understaffed.
After what seemed like months of recovery, another catastophy struck Selenitas. Benden attacked out of no where, swiftly gaining a foothold in the Weyr. Having been assigned to the Infirmary incase of another attack, E'rro made his way quickly (if not a bit aquatically) to the Infirmary, forced by circumstances to leave his lifeline behind at their Weyr. Ismaroth would have been torn to shreads if he had come along. The others in the infirmary were a motley crew if anything. But fortunately most of them could fight, let alone a good third of them having at one point been trained in the north. Each person was assigned a job, and it fell upon E'rro to gaurd the Dragon entrance with Ka'rys (and a few others). It wasn't long before the Infirmary itself was attacked by a large wave of Benden attackers. Working closely with the injured Bronzerider, the Brownrider was able to help keep both himself and some of the others in his group alive. Although he was in Ka'rys wing, he hadn't had much respect for the Bronzerider until this point. Because of the battle, and having to trust one another with literally their lives, a form of mutual respect grew between them.
After the Seige was over, the Brownrider's work was not done. He went from the battlefeild straight to the Infirmary that had been set up in Shmee's old living Quarters. He immedietly began working on injured dragons, knowing that the amount of Healers and Dragonhealers available to work had drastically dwindled. With most being too hurt to preform their duties, and others flat out dead. How he survived those gruelling hours of constant work was beyond him. He got little sleep, and never stopped working until ordered to rest. He was still an apprentice after all. His own wounds eventually healed over to add two new scars to his rather impressive collection. All in all, he had gotten away from the Seige better than he had hoped. He even got promoted to Ka'ry's wingsecond. But that happened a few months later. The Brownrider has his suspicions as to why he got moved up in rank, but won't voice them, even if they are true.
An epidemic spreading across Selenitas, its symptoms first appearing like the common Flu, but far far more deadly. E'rro, although concerned about the Humans, worried that whatever the Virus it was would mutate and spread toward the dragonic lifeforms. As the Fever passed with no signs to rectify his worry, the Brownrider continued to work as he had always done, swiftly and as effiently as he could. Because of his specialization it seemed as if it was taking forever, his normal workload doubled with studies he had to mainly do independantly because they recieved and sent no letters to the Healer Hall. In the end, many humans parished in the fever, including the Weyrleader and several other notables.
It wasn't long after S'rei became Weyrleader again that Selenitas made a tentative alliance with Benden, a revelation that startled E'rro. He hadn't thought that Selenitas would ever extend their hand in a truce to his old Weyr, but in all rationality, it seemed the better of two evils now that J'lorin was in charge. And then, things went from bad to worse. The River was poisioned with Fellis, wiping out any Dragonic lifeform that happened to be drinking from it at the time. Numerous Dragons and pets died from the poisoning, fortunately his own mindmates were spared. If he had lost either of them, he would not have known what to do. Nuisance had now been with him long enough that he was about as attached to the Salamandyr as he was to Ismaroth. Ka'rys, who he could have called a friend, was also injured sevierely around the time of the poisoning. The Bronzerider lost all of his memories of his time at Selenitas, which meant the trust they had built between them disappeared with the blow to the Rider's head. E'rro was hopeful that Ciceroth would help him remember, although he wasn't entirely against building it all up again. True trust was like that, never being a one time thing.
Months later Fort Weyr attacked High Reaches, almost completely obliterating the population. This attack caused those who did survive to flee to Selenitas, which in turn forced Fort to attack Selenitas to get at the remaining survivers of HRW. E'rro, now a Wingleader (who never strove to be one in the first place) of a wing full of almost completely untrained riders, was forced to help repel the fighting wings and those who sought entrance to the infirmary where one of the HR Riders was being held. His Wingsecond was injured and taken out of battle early on, but teaming up with Ka'rys and his Wing, they were able to repulse the attack. Luck had definately been on their side. After the battle, S'rei completely reorganized the structure of Selentias's Wings, creating one that was outside of the "normal" operations. Legatus was headed by Ka'rys and those on the Wing were hand picked by him and with a humorous twist, almost everyone was an Ex-Northern Rider. E'rro was once again Wingsecond and more than happy to give up his position as Wingleader, feeling less than cut out for such a role. Needless to say he was happy to be partnered with the Bronzerider.
3015 rolled around and it found the Brownrider kneedeep in turmoil. Well, the entire Weyr was thrown into chaos and E'rro just happened to be in the middle of it. Oh, the year itself started out just fine. Jingth rose and was caught by Dsoleth, he found it amusing that he was friends with the Brownrider and helped lead the nightshift with the Goldrider. After that, the Wingsecond impressed a Firelizard by the name of Feather. A pudgey little Green who loved to eat and happened to be the sweetest thing he'd ever met. He even walked the tables in both Healing and Dragonhealing, although he had really only officially been enrolled as an apprentice Dragonhealer. Not that he minded, he got more marks for it and he had done enough triage for attacks that he did just about the same amount of work normal Healer Apprentices did anyway. So yes, it began well... but it was when they were betrayed did it start to get ugly.
The New Regieme
It was the end of his shift, close to around the sixth candlemark in the morning when the keening of Dragons filled the air and Ismaroth lit the alarm in his Mind. Out of no where Selenitas was being quickly over run by an invading force. Imedietly going into action and responding to the commands sent to him via his Brown, E'rro did his best to evacuate his patients before having to leave himself. If he stayed, his life would be in danger. Apparently the attackers were hunting down the Junior Golds, the metalics and anyone who was part of the Legatus Wing. Grabbing Meira he and two of his wingmates loaded as many healing supplies as possible onto their Dragons before Betweening to a secret meeting point. But as he was about to leave, an invader was able to throw a knife and injure his leg, leaving him bleeding as they disappeared. It was fortunate he was not injured any further than that. The gash would heal in time, but the real question was, what time did they have? Eventually all those who escaped did. Fleeing to a secondary place only a very few Riders knew the exact coordinates of, leaving it unlikely that the attackers could find them through those particular means. Riders, Sr. Werylings, a smattering of candidates and Weyrfolk... it wasn't the prettiest of groups, but they were safe. At least for now. E'rro was injured, he'd had to leave Nuisance behind which was almost sickening to think about and as worried as the rest of them but the Legatus Wing began to quickly try and organize a plan. First seeking out a place where they could shelter all of the Dragons and all of the humans, but it was what they found that surprised them all.
A Weyr. A hidden Weyr within the very heart of the forest, one that was almost impossible to see from above and almost equally as hard to find it on foot unless you knew what you were looking for. It seemed like a miracle. It was astonishing that something at least twice the size of Selenitas could be hidden beneith the thick foliage, but it was. It's tunnels and subterranian rooms were... challenging to map and figure out. E'rro himself got lost a few times before figuring out a numeric way to remember the tunnels and turns. There isn't much that they could do now but wait and train... plus being added onto the Burimyu Weyr Leadership Council was interesting to say the least.
Burimyu Existance- 3015-3016
He would be lyinig if he said his alliegance didn't lie with Ka'rys, that man was... well, someone he could trust. Fully. No questions asked. E'rro could say he'd do anything Ka'rys asked of him (within the boundries of sanity) and be completely honest. Yet he didn't let this sway his votes when it came down to Council business. In that room, he placed himself not under the Bronzerider, but on equal footing. Meira was a Goldrider, his fellow Healerm and most important a friend. Even their Razorclaws got along perhaps the best among the birds. E'rro did his best to serve his new Weyr the best he could, offering suggestions and help where ever it was needed, even where it was not. It was a strain, not being near Nuisance but somewhere he knew the Blue was still alive. S'rei arrived and E'rro could feel the tension between them. Neither the Bronzerider or he held a love for eachother, but seeing as how they would be living in proximity to one another for Farnath knew how long... the Brownrider tried his best to live with the man.
Hyphen Gather. He should have voted against letting the Burimyu people go, if he could have only forseen the disaster. Even though during that gather he had the chance to reunite with his younger Brother Eroiani, now Er'ani of Albino Lketh, if he had known... he might have tried to change the entire outcome. Some of the Burimyu exiles were found and killed on sight by Wastelanders. Among the people werer Ka'rys and his daughter. E'rro had lost the only person he looked up to and trusted in the south. He'd lost a Wingleader and... a good friend. Only after the Bronzerider's death could he admit it. It was difficult to accept and move on, but he did. Pushing forward was the only way to survive. It didn't help much that S'rei was voted onto the council to serve in Ka'rys's vacant position.
Ismaroth chased Jingth when she rose, E'rro's raincloud of moodiness disappated for the chase but returned when the Brown lost to Merridian's Chaoth. He was glad they no longer had the Weyrleader system, not that he had anything against the woman. The weeks turned into months and things began to settle back into a normal state, for E'rro that is. Until... the Records room was broken into. He'd been asleep when the events took place, not aware of the party who'd gone to investigate or what had happened to cause their formation. Someone, he couldn't remember who it was now, woke him up with banging on his door.
E'rro made his way to the doors of the Archives with a yawn, though despite his pace he was one of the first ones there. Pounding on the door he had called Meira's name but recieved no answer. He tried this a few times before trying to shoulder the door open but to no avail. Others joined him. Soon there were sounds of frantic movement, scraping, thumping. The sounds of things being moved around. Eventually the doors opened. What greated him was not what he had expected and what the women said was not what he wanted to hear. Meira was dead. There were vicious unknown creatures around Burimyu and no one knew what they looked like... or how to stop them. And as soon as Jingth's clutch hatched, they would loose their Queen. Things kept getting worse and worse.
3017-3019
A billion things happened, here is the condensed version:
Earthquake brought Burimyu and Selenitas back together, and there was a bunch of tension. E'rro found it hard to be a model for the Weyr when he held so much Bias. This combination also brough Raebeli back, and that opened a whole new can of worms. Eventually, they started dating.
Later part of 3018 came and shit went down. E'rro and his wing were part of the attack on Fort, killing people and chasing them down along side other veterans. this continued into 3019. Being gone for long periods of time and showing up randomly with new injuries and temperment issues drove a wedge in his relationship. They split early on in 3019. Unhappy, E'rro took his agression out on the people he hunted down. Poor unfortunate people who found themselves on the wrong side of his weapons.
3020-3023
After the Dragon War was officially considered over, the talks began. E'rro, being a Councilman got dragged into the shananigans. It was also around this time that Raebeli and he got back together after patching up some of the bad feelings the break up had left. The Summit was annoying to say the least, he protested a great many of the ideas being brought up and only succeeded in shooting down very, very few of them. He managed though, to keep most of Legatus at Selenitas, with the exceptions of Darya and K'sel. But he knew he would not win them all. After the summit conviened, E'rro returned to Selenitas to break the news to his Wing, leaving the talks not wholey satisfied at all. With the loss of K'sel came the loss of Nephele and his godson (why he agreed to that was beyond imagination), but he knew they'd all visit one another so it wasn't a complete loss. He also lost his Brother back to the North, which was perhaps the most upsetting of all, he'd only just gotten him back in his immediet area and now he was back where he began. M'ta, Riaren and Terilyn managed to stay at Selenitas, so at least he got to help with them (even after taking care of them for a year).
Once things settled down, E'rro built up the nerve in 3022 to ask Raebeli to be his Weyrmate. He was worried she'd say no, after having only been back together for two turns... but in the end she said yes and they moved in together. With the responsibilities of Councilman removed from his shoulders, the Brownrider finds it so much easier to juggle being a Wingleader and his position in the Infirmary. Things were much easier now than they were before.
Dragon
Name: Ismaroth
Color: Brown
Age: 12 turns
Physical Appearance: Tall, sleek, and handsome, Ismaroth is very much the classical example of a Brown. Strong and sturdy, the muscle that covers his body is lightweight and compact, giving him both maneuverability and precision in the air. Long and slightly broad wings and a matching tail keep him aloft for extended periods of time, it allows him to rival the endurance of small Bronzes. On the ground and in the air, Ismaroth has a naturally commanding presence. Body posture and assurance of movement speak to his Northern upbringing and the Turns he has so far spent as a Leading figure. But in truth, his true colors show in his face. He has neither sharp nor rounded angles to him, but a look that is simply common place. Something neutral and in general, unassuming. Black talons tip his toes, sharp and deadly those who wish not to be injured should be wary of their proximity.
Ismaroth is a very light brown, his hide more closely matching the color of a sand than anything else. Completely opposite of most dragons of his kind who have hides that clearly and utterly mark them as the atypical Brown. Not, of course, that he could be confused with anything but what he is. Dark brown patches, similar in shape to offkilter dimonds run from his head to his tail, closely following the path that his back ridges create. His feet, legs and tail tip, while the same color as the dimonds, look as though he had sloshed around in very shallow mud. Small speckles can be found at random intervols along his face, again making it look like flecks of mud have stuck to his face. Grey talons tip the end of his toes, adding to his overall battle ready appearence. He also has small but jagged scars around his right wing joint, having aquired a severe bite in the midst of an aerial battle. Long healed scars from previous fights are not an uncommon sight on his hide.
Personality: Ismaroth tends to be neutral in almost all aspects. Offering his opinion as a voice of reason rather than a final call to action, he'll leave that to the Dragons in charge. Unless, of course, he is the one in charge. Being born and raised at Benden, the Brown was constantly subjected to the group mentality of the other savage dragons, mainly that of his Weyrlingmaster, endowing him with a very strong fighting spirit. Yet Ismaroth doesn't care to mettle in the affairs of others, if it isn't about him, it doesn't involve him. Unlike some of the other Dragons that grew up at Benden, Ismaroth doesn't believe in Benden's Pride, for he saw no reason to fight for a set of bias ideals. The Brown couldn't careless if he's alone or surrounded by others, for he truely loves only E'rro.
Ismaroth is highly protective of those he becomes fond of, tending not to stand for anything inappropriate when it comes to them. He will fight for their protection and for the Weyr in which he calls home. The male has a gentleness in his everyday actions that offer no ill will toward the Dragons around him, although that feeling is often counter balanced by his unshakeability. Unmovable like a stone, Isma likes to move at his own pace unless pushed... and pushed he can be. Its not a pretty sight, and we'll leave it at that. Overall, the Brown is a workhorse and a supporter. He does his best when he's unconditionally trusted and can trust like thus in return. He flurishes under a strong command but falters slightly when given his own.
Just as he's not afraid to fight, he's not entirely afraid to show affection either. Ismaroth doesn't mind letting other Dragons cuddle next to him or curl up beside him, so long as he knows them. He'll even play fight or simpley just play with another Dragon if he has a strong connection with them, or if its a particularily adorable (or childish) Green. And when it comes to flights and winning them, Ismaroth offers his mate an open channel of affection for a short time (unless he has a long term mate). If they believed him worthy of being chosen for whatever reason, he's more than willing to nuzzle and praise if those affections are wanted or desired.
Species: Salamandyr
Color: Blue #002146
Gender: Male
Age: 10 or 11
Appearance: Long and slender is this salamandyr, except for his tail, which is oddly thick and crooked at the very end, making it easily his most recognizable trait. If one ignores his strange-looking tail, this little fellow could be described as handsome in build -- and some people may even fancy the oddity that makes him one of the most unique salamandyrs around. His hide is a startlingly dark shade of blue, with ripping spots of lighter, almost white, along the line of his back, forming in perfect harmony. The majority of his hide, aside from those spots, is the same almost liquid midnight blue, unbroken and flawless. The only differences in shade come at the bottoms of his legs, around his feet, which are the same lighter shade of blue as his spots, as well as the inside of his frill; this gives him the vague appearance of wearing boots or socks at all times. His frill, so light in appearance, makes him stand out in poorly lit areas, and frequently that and his spots are the only part of him that can be seen - this makes it easy for this little blue to sneak up on others, if he so chooses... and he will often choose to do so, considering that he moves with soundless grace to make others of his species envious!
Personality: Sneaky, sneaky is this blue - fond of creeping in the shadows, hiding under rugs, in crevices, behind jars, and possibly even in His's boots. Keeping track of his location will be a chore, particularly given that this little fellow likes to skulk in the dark. A favorite pastime of his will be sneaking up on people to nudge them with his slightly chubby tail, then running away before they can spot him, and given his dark coloration and otherwise soundless movements, he'll be hard to keep track of. Mischievous, this little salamandyr will also be prone to causing trouble, particularly by picking on firelizards by biting their tails or wing edges. Some might even go so far as to describe him as malicious, as his habits for stealing / sneaking / otherwise causing trouble will definitely be irksome to most of the general public. For a blue he is also surprisingly gifted at getting his point across, be it by words or biting. Even his bonded will have trouble keeping him from biting when he's angry or annoyed, and this little salamandyr's biggest quirk will be his habit of chewing on anything that comes into sight. Perhaps his only redeeming trait, though, is that he'll always bring the things he likes to steal back to his pet-thing -- would you like a present?
Today 4 U Green: Firelizard
Name: Feather
Age: 9 or 10
Color: Green #6a8e7e - #00b411 - #5ccb80 - #d9fee5
Gender: Female
Based off of: Thanksgiving Day
Appearance: Chubby. That’s the first thought that springs to mind for most people upon seeing this green firelizard. And it’s putting it kindly. Her body is quite round, even from the moment of hatching and no amount of dieting and exercise will repair it; she’ll always be a roly-poly. Her legs being on the short side definitely doesn’t help her cause any. She really does look as though her belly rubs the ground if she walks and her tail – while thin – is on the shorter side. There’s really no redeeming it: she’ll always look over-fed and coupled with her large wings, she’s more likely to resemble a grouchy salamandyr than one of her own kind. She’s on the small side for her kind in terms of length, though she definitely takes up more space (and weighs more) than the average firelizard. Nothing about her is muscular either and when it comes to picking things up, she can barely lift objects that an average green could – she’s downright pathetic when it comes to that. Her face is very round, wide big, pleasant- and her ridges, being almost non-existent, stand out: she’s a very sweet-looking firelizard. Just… chubby. Now, though, Feather's eyes seem to be a permanent milky green due to the cure found for the 3017 plague, loosing her eyesight was worth being able to stay alive.
Her coloring isn’t slimming, either. Although the backwash of her hide is a mottled gray-green, describing her as that would be a vast injustice. Vivid shades of emerald cover her body in angles and lines like feathers – perfectly beautiful to behold. Sweeter shades of blue-green line the back portion of her body, still in feather like markings, while she has seafoam rings around her eyes that bring prominence to them, like eyebrows. The overall appearance is for her to very distinctly resemble some kind of wherry or other avian. This is especially prominent when she spreads her wings (which bear the same markings as the rest of her body). The pale shade is what her hide highlights as, giving her a shimmery, elegant appearance. But as any connoisseur of fashion knows: wearing feathers when you’re overweight never ends well and she’s a classic example. Her size is just impossible to miss, thanks to these elegant, pretty even, markings. For better or worse.
Personality: Eating. This flitter loves to do it – and most of her actions are catered around just that. Food-seeking is a constant with her and there’s virtually nothing that she won’t eat if it’s offered to her. Meat, fish, insects – all of it is delicious to her, even vegetables and fruit. She loves food. This has the unfortunate side-effect of her coming across as quite the little beggar; she spends a great deal of time clinging to people chirping and chattering musically in an attempt to bait snacks out of them, and she’s completely shameless: there’s no such thing as someone who is “out of bounds” for begging. Food is food, and she likes everyone equally if they’re handing her something tasty. She knows no fear in pursuit of food. Angry drudges are nothing in the face of roast herdbeast; crying weyrbrats have no impact on her if they’re carrying around sweetened fruit. The options are limitless! And she often gorges herself; is it any wonder she’s not exactly ‘thin’? Actually, it’s a miracle she doesn’t spend more time throwing up, considering that no creature should eat as much as she does. Eat, then sleep. This is her philosophy. Nom nom.
When she’s not trying to acquire food (a rare occasion in and of itself), this firelizard frequently can be found clinging to Hers for dear life. She chose based on honest affection and even turns after Impression, that affection won’t fade; she’s sweet as sugar to her chosen and will do everything she can to make sure that her mindmate (and all of their mindmates in conjunction) is happy. Compliments are received graciously and paid in kind; she brings gifts to Hers on a regular basis, and to any creature she likes. And she likes virtually anyone. Never one to hold a grudge, this is one firelizard that will surely make friends easily. She doesn’t really understand the concept of flirting and her flights are likely to be more “game”-like than actual flights, but she does form connections, perhaps more deeply than many of her kind do. Friends are friends for life, and she never forgets a considerate act. Forgive and forget; live and love. These are this firelizard’s mottos. Even with the loss of her sight, this silly little Green still insists on trying to do everything she used to... But you know... With the help of her friends of course! If friendship doesn't include the borrowing of your eye sight for a little while, what does?!
But just because she’s generally a forgiving soul doesn’t make this firelizard unintelligent. No, this green is quite far from stupid. If one were to observe her, they’d notice that she picks up on the smallest details. While she doesn’t hold grudges, she is unlikely to trust someone (or thing) that has harmed her in the past, and will be a bit weary about anyone mistreating hers as well. She isn’t the most protective creature (she abhors violence) but she does remember – and because she remembers, her feelings of insecurity are likely to bleed over onto Hers if she mistrusts someone. Connects strongly, does this firelizard – for better or worse, Hers will never be in doubt of how she feels, or what she wants… and the latter is usually food.
Mashed Potatoes Male
Name- Thross
Species- Razorclaw
Age: 7
Bonded to- E'rro
Gender- Male
Physical Description- A very large male, this avian will prove, though given the lack of previous knowledge on razorclaws, his size probably won’t be noted as unusual for a while. With an impressive wingspan, he’ll definitely be a sight in the skies, capable of flying circles around any firelizard if he wants to. Proportionally, however, nothing about him sticks out as being strange; if anything, he’s a stunning example of what a male razorclaw should be (at least, full grown—as an hatchling he’ll be little more than a ball of gray gawky fluff), with hooked, prominent beak and large talons.
In color, the male is a creamy off-white, each feather tipped in brown to give him an overall speckled appearance. His feathers darken on the head into a pale golden tan, which traces down the line of breastbone to disappear under the male’s stomach. The feathers along the edges of his wings are the same golden tan, tipped in darker brown that nears black, the same pattern and color appearing on his tail feathers. In a startling contrast to the otherwise soft colors of his feathers, his talons are as saffron yellow as his beak—and, like his beak, each talon is tipped in pure black.
Personality- Fearless, this avian will be. While he’ll possess the shyness typical of his species at birth, his early Bonding will soon serve to vanquish that—and replace it with a creature quite at home among dragons and whers. Firelizards and Salamandyrs will always be iffy—wild blood is too close to the surface for this male to ever view them as anything but food. With training, though, at least you can rest assured he won’t try to actually eat any of them. With people, the male is not excessively outgoing, preferring the company of his own, but if humans respect him, then all’s right in the world, isn’t it.
A set of contradictions is presented by the male from the very start. While he’s undeniably intelligent, capable of undoing complicated knots and locks if he sets his mind to it, he’s also stubborn enough, the bond just loose enough, that he’ll resist as much as he can. Just for the fun of it, perhaps—or maybe because it amuses him (in a serene kind of way, for he’ll never demonstrate any kind of amusement) to see people get frustrated. However, as his respect for his Bonded is a mirror of the respect that His has for him, any frustration betrayed on his person’s part guarantees that they let the male’s affection for them slip away just slightly. And winning it back? A long, grueling process.
This male will soon find his favorites among foods. While he accepts most cooked foods and tidbits from his Bonded graciously enough, he’ll much prefer to catch his own—and his favorites are avians. Not of his own kind—never—but those songbirds, the irritatingly fearless six-limbed creatures, will always be at risk when this male graces the skies with his presence. It is, ultimately, just a preference, though—he’ll happily enough bring down young felines or canines or just about anything else, given the chance.
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bi-sexual (leans more toward women)
Rank: Selenitas's lead Dragonhealer
(Senior Journeyman Healer)
Born: May 19, 2995
Family:
Mother: Roniani of Green Quicoteth (deceased)
Father: Er’ian of Brown Cristandrith
Brother: Er'ani of Albino Lketh
Nephew: Easrian
Neice: Rioana
Physical Appearance: If anything, the most distinguishing feature of E'rro's appearance is the scar that stretches from his Right temple to the back of the left side of his jaw. The horrible scar crosses right under his left eye, runs over the bridge of his nose and trails over his right cheek. The scar is contrasted by his slightly darker skin, and is a constant reminder of the brutality of Benden. Long, thick hair frames his face in carefully maintained waves, the dark brown almost black of his hair brings out his sharp edged hazel eyes. While these eyes are framed even more with a thin ring of black charcoal around them, somewhat like what women wear when they put make-up on, fortunately it makes him look more severe than comical. E'rro stands at just around 5' 10 and a half with no promises of growing more, but one never knows. Although the scar across his face is the most noticeable, the ones across his back are just as bad. The only thing lucky about those was that his skin didn't heal in the normal roping pattern that most whip marks did. He also has scars at random intervals down his arms, most prominently the longest one down his forearm, which he sustained from the Seige. He got a knife wound in his side, one down his left leg, and another one across his collar bone near his neck.
Clothing wise, E'rro now tends to wear short sleeved tunics and pants that fit closer to his body. He often straps on leather arm gaurds as a precaution, and he has on him both hidden and obvious weapons. Consisting mainly of throwing knives, the one skill in weaponry he had worked hard on to prefect. Though the particular colors of the outfit might change, he often wears brown and green, or completely black. The Brownrider also wears a thin, black skin tight shirt under his normal clothing layers. It was a gift from M'ta, it helped cut down on the everyday skin to skin contact that he had to endure.
Personality: E'rro isn't... the most cheerful person to be around. He tends to cast off a grumpy vibe, detering most people from trying to initiate a conversation with him. Silent unless he needs to be, the Brownrider tends only to open up to those he considers himself close to. Selfreliant and untrusting, E'rro has long since learned that superfluous trust can lead you to your death. Joking and playing aren't things that he used to do, but now he can be seen pal-ing around with people, though he reserves pet names and other things of that nature for the people who he finds deserving. Slow to anger but quick to annoy, the Brownrider never lashes out physically instead relying on his towering presence and intimidation to drive the people away. Around superiors though, he is a mask. A person to be placed and put to a task, whatever it might be. E'rro isn't an Alpha, he just isn't that type of person.
Despite the cold appearences that E'rro sometimes projects, its not uncommon to see some sort of kinder emotion pass across his face. He speaks softly to people, trying never to be condecending. Turns of living in the south has broken down the walls around his feelings, but the war continues to play them like heart strings. He is capable of public displays of happiness, comfort, playfullness... you just have to be in the right place at the right time.
E'rro dislikes physical contact. If he can avoid touching people, he will. He doesn't like the sensation that you get when another person touches your skin, it makes him feel uncomfortable. The only people to date that are allowed to touch him with out restriction are his brother, his Weyrmate, his two best friends M'ta and T'san, and of course, kids.
History:Bred, Born, and Raised because of the war, E'rro grew up in stages. His parents (Roniani and Er'ian) had been chosen and forced together because of their ideal features and firm statures, all of it in hopes that their child would grow to become an ideal looking rider, just like the dragonriding parents. Although he was conceived because of dragon lust, it did not stop his parents from caring for him when they could. When Erron had grown old enough to understand that something bad was happening around the Weyr, his parents began to secretly try and turn him against Benden. Unfortunately, they were working not only against the other riders, but against the other children as well. Erron grew up listening to both sides of the arguments, for the pride of the Weyr and one opposed to it. It wasn't long before the overwhelming force of the Benden supporters made him chose the delirium that Benden was best over those fake stories that his parents had told him. His beauty as a child gained him many adversaries in the Weyrbrat ranks, but each time he defended himself when challenged.
When he was thirteen, he was Found by a Blue while playing a 'innocent' game of Benden and Enemies, and right in the middle of calling out some order's to his troops he was whisked away to the main hall to get registered. Once, twice, three times the boy stood on the sands, and on the third try the boy Impressed a handsome Brown. It was after impressing Ismaroth that Erron, now E'rro, began to see how horrible Benden life really was. He had been so ignorant, living life around him as if nothing was happening, when everything was. Rapings, violence, and everything in between had been all around him and he felt like such a fool for not seeing it. Unfortunately his rebellious side had kicked in to late, causing him to get into more trouble than he would have when he was younger.
One such instant was on a sunny day in the middle of his Weyrling training, E'rro had had the gall to try and help a classmate who had been struck down by their instructor. For his 'show of weakness and unruliness' he was sentenced to a couple of lashings. Another such instance was when the Brownweyrling refused to practice possibly lethal fighting moves against a Benden prisoner of war. This earned him his most noticeable and harrying of scars... his instructor had had just about enough of him, and decided to teach not only E'rro a lesson, but the rest of the class. The Brownweyrling was only conscious of the searing pain that spread across his face when the instructor slashed his dagger downward. The man ordered that no one help E'rro for the remainder of the lesson, everybody adhered to that order, either afraid for their own lives or simply uncaring what happened. So he was left, writhing in pain until the end of the lesson, when a few of the braver souls in the class dragged him to the healing wing.
From the point the scar had entered his life, it had become the bane of his existence, and the subtle torment that proceeded was just about enough to push him over the edge. No longer did he value how he looked, or how anyone thought of him. No longer did he care for anyone, not even himself... he was transformed into a fighting slave, fighting for the life of his Dragon and the so called Pride of the Weyr. His eyes that were once bright and cheery had taken on a steeled edge, coupling that with the scar on his face, made the Brownweyrling look as cold as the other Benden supporters. The only thing keeping him attached to his emotions was his Ismaroth, the only one he openly showed emotions toward, emotions other than indifference and cruelty. He had to battle to survive, and he only survived for Ismaroth.
Soon after Benden was absolutely sure that E'rro was for their cause, the Weyrlingmaster ordered him to the Children's wing, a wing comprised totally of Weyrlingriders with great potential. He didn't really care anymore, were ever his superiors put him was were he would go. Taking whatever classes were pushed on him, the boy found himself studying dragonhealing, he and another would be their wing's healer's. Though he didn't get very far in his studies, being forced to practice diligently for fighting and tactics. All of Benden's enemies were the same... Fort, Selenitas, it didn't matter. It was better if you didn't see your opponents as humans anyways. He had been part of the Selentias Sky Raid, and the Dominance spectacle was no different. Landing with Ismaroth and joining the fray, E'rro obediently followed directions from one of the Bronzeriders. He was charged with trying to kill a powerfully built man, and if he didn't, Ismaroth would die. A simple everyday threat from Benden, but when they said it... they meant it. Slipping into a feral version of himself, he charged the man with his dagger. The last thing he remembered before waking up on a healing bed, was the few steps it took the man to disarm and disable him. He was stuck at Selenitas, at the enemy's weyr, and Ismaroth was not acting like himself. No matter how hard E'rro tried to persuade the Brown of escape, the dragon wouldn't hear of it.
Turns seemed to pass and the Brownrider began to age out of his young, abused teenager stage, learning that there was more to life than fighting and war. Soon enough, he became an apprentice Dragonhealer, and under Greenrider Kalierre's teachings his inate skill (that had started to grow back at Benden) began to flourish. He is a regular, if not quiet, sight at the Infirmary. All of his hate and anger toward Selenitas Weyr was steadily bleeding free from his body. But being from Benden's infamous Weyrling Wing, there were always suspisions surrounding his allegance. It didn't help his standing when he was the first person to find Shmee after her Dragon disappeared forever. Through prior training, he was able to discover the cause of her death. Poison in her Wine. It was from there that his Healer abilities were tested, as the entire Weyr began to fall sick to poisonings. Being a Dragonhealer, he had to quickly pick up Human healing techniques, because the infirmary was drastically understaffed.
After what seemed like months of recovery, another catastophy struck Selenitas. Benden attacked out of no where, swiftly gaining a foothold in the Weyr. Having been assigned to the Infirmary incase of another attack, E'rro made his way quickly (if not a bit aquatically) to the Infirmary, forced by circumstances to leave his lifeline behind at their Weyr. Ismaroth would have been torn to shreads if he had come along. The others in the infirmary were a motley crew if anything. But fortunately most of them could fight, let alone a good third of them having at one point been trained in the north. Each person was assigned a job, and it fell upon E'rro to gaurd the Dragon entrance with Ka'rys (and a few others). It wasn't long before the Infirmary itself was attacked by a large wave of Benden attackers. Working closely with the injured Bronzerider, the Brownrider was able to help keep both himself and some of the others in his group alive. Although he was in Ka'rys wing, he hadn't had much respect for the Bronzerider until this point. Because of the battle, and having to trust one another with literally their lives, a form of mutual respect grew between them.
After the Seige was over, the Brownrider's work was not done. He went from the battlefeild straight to the Infirmary that had been set up in Shmee's old living Quarters. He immedietly began working on injured dragons, knowing that the amount of Healers and Dragonhealers available to work had drastically dwindled. With most being too hurt to preform their duties, and others flat out dead. How he survived those gruelling hours of constant work was beyond him. He got little sleep, and never stopped working until ordered to rest. He was still an apprentice after all. His own wounds eventually healed over to add two new scars to his rather impressive collection. All in all, he had gotten away from the Seige better than he had hoped. He even got promoted to Ka'ry's wingsecond. But that happened a few months later. The Brownrider has his suspicions as to why he got moved up in rank, but won't voice them, even if they are true.
An epidemic spreading across Selenitas, its symptoms first appearing like the common Flu, but far far more deadly. E'rro, although concerned about the Humans, worried that whatever the Virus it was would mutate and spread toward the dragonic lifeforms. As the Fever passed with no signs to rectify his worry, the Brownrider continued to work as he had always done, swiftly and as effiently as he could. Because of his specialization it seemed as if it was taking forever, his normal workload doubled with studies he had to mainly do independantly because they recieved and sent no letters to the Healer Hall. In the end, many humans parished in the fever, including the Weyrleader and several other notables.
It wasn't long after S'rei became Weyrleader again that Selenitas made a tentative alliance with Benden, a revelation that startled E'rro. He hadn't thought that Selenitas would ever extend their hand in a truce to his old Weyr, but in all rationality, it seemed the better of two evils now that J'lorin was in charge. And then, things went from bad to worse. The River was poisioned with Fellis, wiping out any Dragonic lifeform that happened to be drinking from it at the time. Numerous Dragons and pets died from the poisoning, fortunately his own mindmates were spared. If he had lost either of them, he would not have known what to do. Nuisance had now been with him long enough that he was about as attached to the Salamandyr as he was to Ismaroth. Ka'rys, who he could have called a friend, was also injured sevierely around the time of the poisoning. The Bronzerider lost all of his memories of his time at Selenitas, which meant the trust they had built between them disappeared with the blow to the Rider's head. E'rro was hopeful that Ciceroth would help him remember, although he wasn't entirely against building it all up again. True trust was like that, never being a one time thing.
Months later Fort Weyr attacked High Reaches, almost completely obliterating the population. This attack caused those who did survive to flee to Selenitas, which in turn forced Fort to attack Selenitas to get at the remaining survivers of HRW. E'rro, now a Wingleader (who never strove to be one in the first place) of a wing full of almost completely untrained riders, was forced to help repel the fighting wings and those who sought entrance to the infirmary where one of the HR Riders was being held. His Wingsecond was injured and taken out of battle early on, but teaming up with Ka'rys and his Wing, they were able to repulse the attack. Luck had definately been on their side. After the battle, S'rei completely reorganized the structure of Selentias's Wings, creating one that was outside of the "normal" operations. Legatus was headed by Ka'rys and those on the Wing were hand picked by him and with a humorous twist, almost everyone was an Ex-Northern Rider. E'rro was once again Wingsecond and more than happy to give up his position as Wingleader, feeling less than cut out for such a role. Needless to say he was happy to be partnered with the Bronzerider.
3015 rolled around and it found the Brownrider kneedeep in turmoil. Well, the entire Weyr was thrown into chaos and E'rro just happened to be in the middle of it. Oh, the year itself started out just fine. Jingth rose and was caught by Dsoleth, he found it amusing that he was friends with the Brownrider and helped lead the nightshift with the Goldrider. After that, the Wingsecond impressed a Firelizard by the name of Feather. A pudgey little Green who loved to eat and happened to be the sweetest thing he'd ever met. He even walked the tables in both Healing and Dragonhealing, although he had really only officially been enrolled as an apprentice Dragonhealer. Not that he minded, he got more marks for it and he had done enough triage for attacks that he did just about the same amount of work normal Healer Apprentices did anyway. So yes, it began well... but it was when they were betrayed did it start to get ugly.
The New Regieme
It was the end of his shift, close to around the sixth candlemark in the morning when the keening of Dragons filled the air and Ismaroth lit the alarm in his Mind. Out of no where Selenitas was being quickly over run by an invading force. Imedietly going into action and responding to the commands sent to him via his Brown, E'rro did his best to evacuate his patients before having to leave himself. If he stayed, his life would be in danger. Apparently the attackers were hunting down the Junior Golds, the metalics and anyone who was part of the Legatus Wing. Grabbing Meira he and two of his wingmates loaded as many healing supplies as possible onto their Dragons before Betweening to a secret meeting point. But as he was about to leave, an invader was able to throw a knife and injure his leg, leaving him bleeding as they disappeared. It was fortunate he was not injured any further than that. The gash would heal in time, but the real question was, what time did they have? Eventually all those who escaped did. Fleeing to a secondary place only a very few Riders knew the exact coordinates of, leaving it unlikely that the attackers could find them through those particular means. Riders, Sr. Werylings, a smattering of candidates and Weyrfolk... it wasn't the prettiest of groups, but they were safe. At least for now. E'rro was injured, he'd had to leave Nuisance behind which was almost sickening to think about and as worried as the rest of them but the Legatus Wing began to quickly try and organize a plan. First seeking out a place where they could shelter all of the Dragons and all of the humans, but it was what they found that surprised them all.
A Weyr. A hidden Weyr within the very heart of the forest, one that was almost impossible to see from above and almost equally as hard to find it on foot unless you knew what you were looking for. It seemed like a miracle. It was astonishing that something at least twice the size of Selenitas could be hidden beneith the thick foliage, but it was. It's tunnels and subterranian rooms were... challenging to map and figure out. E'rro himself got lost a few times before figuring out a numeric way to remember the tunnels and turns. There isn't much that they could do now but wait and train... plus being added onto the Burimyu Weyr Leadership Council was interesting to say the least.
Burimyu Existance- 3015-3016
He would be lyinig if he said his alliegance didn't lie with Ka'rys, that man was... well, someone he could trust. Fully. No questions asked. E'rro could say he'd do anything Ka'rys asked of him (within the boundries of sanity) and be completely honest. Yet he didn't let this sway his votes when it came down to Council business. In that room, he placed himself not under the Bronzerider, but on equal footing. Meira was a Goldrider, his fellow Healerm and most important a friend. Even their Razorclaws got along perhaps the best among the birds. E'rro did his best to serve his new Weyr the best he could, offering suggestions and help where ever it was needed, even where it was not. It was a strain, not being near Nuisance but somewhere he knew the Blue was still alive. S'rei arrived and E'rro could feel the tension between them. Neither the Bronzerider or he held a love for eachother, but seeing as how they would be living in proximity to one another for Farnath knew how long... the Brownrider tried his best to live with the man.
Hyphen Gather. He should have voted against letting the Burimyu people go, if he could have only forseen the disaster. Even though during that gather he had the chance to reunite with his younger Brother Eroiani, now Er'ani of Albino Lketh, if he had known... he might have tried to change the entire outcome. Some of the Burimyu exiles were found and killed on sight by Wastelanders. Among the people werer Ka'rys and his daughter. E'rro had lost the only person he looked up to and trusted in the south. He'd lost a Wingleader and... a good friend. Only after the Bronzerider's death could he admit it. It was difficult to accept and move on, but he did. Pushing forward was the only way to survive. It didn't help much that S'rei was voted onto the council to serve in Ka'rys's vacant position.
Ismaroth chased Jingth when she rose, E'rro's raincloud of moodiness disappated for the chase but returned when the Brown lost to Merridian's Chaoth. He was glad they no longer had the Weyrleader system, not that he had anything against the woman. The weeks turned into months and things began to settle back into a normal state, for E'rro that is. Until... the Records room was broken into. He'd been asleep when the events took place, not aware of the party who'd gone to investigate or what had happened to cause their formation. Someone, he couldn't remember who it was now, woke him up with banging on his door.
E'rro made his way to the doors of the Archives with a yawn, though despite his pace he was one of the first ones there. Pounding on the door he had called Meira's name but recieved no answer. He tried this a few times before trying to shoulder the door open but to no avail. Others joined him. Soon there were sounds of frantic movement, scraping, thumping. The sounds of things being moved around. Eventually the doors opened. What greated him was not what he had expected and what the women said was not what he wanted to hear. Meira was dead. There were vicious unknown creatures around Burimyu and no one knew what they looked like... or how to stop them. And as soon as Jingth's clutch hatched, they would loose their Queen. Things kept getting worse and worse.
3017-3019
A billion things happened, here is the condensed version:
Earthquake brought Burimyu and Selenitas back together, and there was a bunch of tension. E'rro found it hard to be a model for the Weyr when he held so much Bias. This combination also brough Raebeli back, and that opened a whole new can of worms. Eventually, they started dating.
Later part of 3018 came and shit went down. E'rro and his wing were part of the attack on Fort, killing people and chasing them down along side other veterans. this continued into 3019. Being gone for long periods of time and showing up randomly with new injuries and temperment issues drove a wedge in his relationship. They split early on in 3019. Unhappy, E'rro took his agression out on the people he hunted down. Poor unfortunate people who found themselves on the wrong side of his weapons.
3020-3023
After the Dragon War was officially considered over, the talks began. E'rro, being a Councilman got dragged into the shananigans. It was also around this time that Raebeli and he got back together after patching up some of the bad feelings the break up had left. The Summit was annoying to say the least, he protested a great many of the ideas being brought up and only succeeded in shooting down very, very few of them. He managed though, to keep most of Legatus at Selenitas, with the exceptions of Darya and K'sel. But he knew he would not win them all. After the summit conviened, E'rro returned to Selenitas to break the news to his Wing, leaving the talks not wholey satisfied at all. With the loss of K'sel came the loss of Nephele and his godson (why he agreed to that was beyond imagination), but he knew they'd all visit one another so it wasn't a complete loss. He also lost his Brother back to the North, which was perhaps the most upsetting of all, he'd only just gotten him back in his immediet area and now he was back where he began. M'ta, Riaren and Terilyn managed to stay at Selenitas, so at least he got to help with them (even after taking care of them for a year).
Once things settled down, E'rro built up the nerve in 3022 to ask Raebeli to be his Weyrmate. He was worried she'd say no, after having only been back together for two turns... but in the end she said yes and they moved in together. With the responsibilities of Councilman removed from his shoulders, the Brownrider finds it so much easier to juggle being a Wingleader and his position in the Infirmary. Things were much easier now than they were before.
Dragon
Name: Ismaroth
Color: Brown
Age: 12 turns
Physical Appearance: Tall, sleek, and handsome, Ismaroth is very much the classical example of a Brown. Strong and sturdy, the muscle that covers his body is lightweight and compact, giving him both maneuverability and precision in the air. Long and slightly broad wings and a matching tail keep him aloft for extended periods of time, it allows him to rival the endurance of small Bronzes. On the ground and in the air, Ismaroth has a naturally commanding presence. Body posture and assurance of movement speak to his Northern upbringing and the Turns he has so far spent as a Leading figure. But in truth, his true colors show in his face. He has neither sharp nor rounded angles to him, but a look that is simply common place. Something neutral and in general, unassuming. Black talons tip his toes, sharp and deadly those who wish not to be injured should be wary of their proximity.
Ismaroth is a very light brown, his hide more closely matching the color of a sand than anything else. Completely opposite of most dragons of his kind who have hides that clearly and utterly mark them as the atypical Brown. Not, of course, that he could be confused with anything but what he is. Dark brown patches, similar in shape to offkilter dimonds run from his head to his tail, closely following the path that his back ridges create. His feet, legs and tail tip, while the same color as the dimonds, look as though he had sloshed around in very shallow mud. Small speckles can be found at random intervols along his face, again making it look like flecks of mud have stuck to his face. Grey talons tip the end of his toes, adding to his overall battle ready appearence. He also has small but jagged scars around his right wing joint, having aquired a severe bite in the midst of an aerial battle. Long healed scars from previous fights are not an uncommon sight on his hide.
Personality: Ismaroth tends to be neutral in almost all aspects. Offering his opinion as a voice of reason rather than a final call to action, he'll leave that to the Dragons in charge. Unless, of course, he is the one in charge. Being born and raised at Benden, the Brown was constantly subjected to the group mentality of the other savage dragons, mainly that of his Weyrlingmaster, endowing him with a very strong fighting spirit. Yet Ismaroth doesn't care to mettle in the affairs of others, if it isn't about him, it doesn't involve him. Unlike some of the other Dragons that grew up at Benden, Ismaroth doesn't believe in Benden's Pride, for he saw no reason to fight for a set of bias ideals. The Brown couldn't careless if he's alone or surrounded by others, for he truely loves only E'rro.
Ismaroth is highly protective of those he becomes fond of, tending not to stand for anything inappropriate when it comes to them. He will fight for their protection and for the Weyr in which he calls home. The male has a gentleness in his everyday actions that offer no ill will toward the Dragons around him, although that feeling is often counter balanced by his unshakeability. Unmovable like a stone, Isma likes to move at his own pace unless pushed... and pushed he can be. Its not a pretty sight, and we'll leave it at that. Overall, the Brown is a workhorse and a supporter. He does his best when he's unconditionally trusted and can trust like thus in return. He flurishes under a strong command but falters slightly when given his own.
Just as he's not afraid to fight, he's not entirely afraid to show affection either. Ismaroth doesn't mind letting other Dragons cuddle next to him or curl up beside him, so long as he knows them. He'll even play fight or simpley just play with another Dragon if he has a strong connection with them, or if its a particularily adorable (or childish) Green. And when it comes to flights and winning them, Ismaroth offers his mate an open channel of affection for a short time (unless he has a long term mate). If they believed him worthy of being chosen for whatever reason, he's more than willing to nuzzle and praise if those affections are wanted or desired.
Species: Salamandyr
Color: Blue #002146
Gender: Male
Age: 10 or 11
Appearance: Long and slender is this salamandyr, except for his tail, which is oddly thick and crooked at the very end, making it easily his most recognizable trait. If one ignores his strange-looking tail, this little fellow could be described as handsome in build -- and some people may even fancy the oddity that makes him one of the most unique salamandyrs around. His hide is a startlingly dark shade of blue, with ripping spots of lighter, almost white, along the line of his back, forming in perfect harmony. The majority of his hide, aside from those spots, is the same almost liquid midnight blue, unbroken and flawless. The only differences in shade come at the bottoms of his legs, around his feet, which are the same lighter shade of blue as his spots, as well as the inside of his frill; this gives him the vague appearance of wearing boots or socks at all times. His frill, so light in appearance, makes him stand out in poorly lit areas, and frequently that and his spots are the only part of him that can be seen - this makes it easy for this little blue to sneak up on others, if he so chooses... and he will often choose to do so, considering that he moves with soundless grace to make others of his species envious!
Personality: Sneaky, sneaky is this blue - fond of creeping in the shadows, hiding under rugs, in crevices, behind jars, and possibly even in His's boots. Keeping track of his location will be a chore, particularly given that this little fellow likes to skulk in the dark. A favorite pastime of his will be sneaking up on people to nudge them with his slightly chubby tail, then running away before they can spot him, and given his dark coloration and otherwise soundless movements, he'll be hard to keep track of. Mischievous, this little salamandyr will also be prone to causing trouble, particularly by picking on firelizards by biting their tails or wing edges. Some might even go so far as to describe him as malicious, as his habits for stealing / sneaking / otherwise causing trouble will definitely be irksome to most of the general public. For a blue he is also surprisingly gifted at getting his point across, be it by words or biting. Even his bonded will have trouble keeping him from biting when he's angry or annoyed, and this little salamandyr's biggest quirk will be his habit of chewing on anything that comes into sight. Perhaps his only redeeming trait, though, is that he'll always bring the things he likes to steal back to his pet-thing -- would you like a present?
Today 4 U Green: Firelizard
Name: Feather
Age: 9 or 10
Color: Green #6a8e7e - #00b411 - #5ccb80 - #d9fee5
Gender: Female
Based off of: Thanksgiving Day
Appearance: Chubby. That’s the first thought that springs to mind for most people upon seeing this green firelizard. And it’s putting it kindly. Her body is quite round, even from the moment of hatching and no amount of dieting and exercise will repair it; she’ll always be a roly-poly. Her legs being on the short side definitely doesn’t help her cause any. She really does look as though her belly rubs the ground if she walks and her tail – while thin – is on the shorter side. There’s really no redeeming it: she’ll always look over-fed and coupled with her large wings, she’s more likely to resemble a grouchy salamandyr than one of her own kind. She’s on the small side for her kind in terms of length, though she definitely takes up more space (and weighs more) than the average firelizard. Nothing about her is muscular either and when it comes to picking things up, she can barely lift objects that an average green could – she’s downright pathetic when it comes to that. Her face is very round, wide big, pleasant- and her ridges, being almost non-existent, stand out: she’s a very sweet-looking firelizard. Just… chubby. Now, though, Feather's eyes seem to be a permanent milky green due to the cure found for the 3017 plague, loosing her eyesight was worth being able to stay alive.
Her coloring isn’t slimming, either. Although the backwash of her hide is a mottled gray-green, describing her as that would be a vast injustice. Vivid shades of emerald cover her body in angles and lines like feathers – perfectly beautiful to behold. Sweeter shades of blue-green line the back portion of her body, still in feather like markings, while she has seafoam rings around her eyes that bring prominence to them, like eyebrows. The overall appearance is for her to very distinctly resemble some kind of wherry or other avian. This is especially prominent when she spreads her wings (which bear the same markings as the rest of her body). The pale shade is what her hide highlights as, giving her a shimmery, elegant appearance. But as any connoisseur of fashion knows: wearing feathers when you’re overweight never ends well and she’s a classic example. Her size is just impossible to miss, thanks to these elegant, pretty even, markings. For better or worse.
Personality: Eating. This flitter loves to do it – and most of her actions are catered around just that. Food-seeking is a constant with her and there’s virtually nothing that she won’t eat if it’s offered to her. Meat, fish, insects – all of it is delicious to her, even vegetables and fruit. She loves food. This has the unfortunate side-effect of her coming across as quite the little beggar; she spends a great deal of time clinging to people chirping and chattering musically in an attempt to bait snacks out of them, and she’s completely shameless: there’s no such thing as someone who is “out of bounds” for begging. Food is food, and she likes everyone equally if they’re handing her something tasty. She knows no fear in pursuit of food. Angry drudges are nothing in the face of roast herdbeast; crying weyrbrats have no impact on her if they’re carrying around sweetened fruit. The options are limitless! And she often gorges herself; is it any wonder she’s not exactly ‘thin’? Actually, it’s a miracle she doesn’t spend more time throwing up, considering that no creature should eat as much as she does. Eat, then sleep. This is her philosophy. Nom nom.
When she’s not trying to acquire food (a rare occasion in and of itself), this firelizard frequently can be found clinging to Hers for dear life. She chose based on honest affection and even turns after Impression, that affection won’t fade; she’s sweet as sugar to her chosen and will do everything she can to make sure that her mindmate (and all of their mindmates in conjunction) is happy. Compliments are received graciously and paid in kind; she brings gifts to Hers on a regular basis, and to any creature she likes. And she likes virtually anyone. Never one to hold a grudge, this is one firelizard that will surely make friends easily. She doesn’t really understand the concept of flirting and her flights are likely to be more “game”-like than actual flights, but she does form connections, perhaps more deeply than many of her kind do. Friends are friends for life, and she never forgets a considerate act. Forgive and forget; live and love. These are this firelizard’s mottos. Even with the loss of her sight, this silly little Green still insists on trying to do everything she used to... But you know... With the help of her friends of course! If friendship doesn't include the borrowing of your eye sight for a little while, what does?!
But just because she’s generally a forgiving soul doesn’t make this firelizard unintelligent. No, this green is quite far from stupid. If one were to observe her, they’d notice that she picks up on the smallest details. While she doesn’t hold grudges, she is unlikely to trust someone (or thing) that has harmed her in the past, and will be a bit weary about anyone mistreating hers as well. She isn’t the most protective creature (she abhors violence) but she does remember – and because she remembers, her feelings of insecurity are likely to bleed over onto Hers if she mistrusts someone. Connects strongly, does this firelizard – for better or worse, Hers will never be in doubt of how she feels, or what she wants… and the latter is usually food.
Mashed Potatoes Male
Name- Thross
Species- Razorclaw
Age: 7
Bonded to- E'rro
Gender- Male
Physical Description- A very large male, this avian will prove, though given the lack of previous knowledge on razorclaws, his size probably won’t be noted as unusual for a while. With an impressive wingspan, he’ll definitely be a sight in the skies, capable of flying circles around any firelizard if he wants to. Proportionally, however, nothing about him sticks out as being strange; if anything, he’s a stunning example of what a male razorclaw should be (at least, full grown—as an hatchling he’ll be little more than a ball of gray gawky fluff), with hooked, prominent beak and large talons.
In color, the male is a creamy off-white, each feather tipped in brown to give him an overall speckled appearance. His feathers darken on the head into a pale golden tan, which traces down the line of breastbone to disappear under the male’s stomach. The feathers along the edges of his wings are the same golden tan, tipped in darker brown that nears black, the same pattern and color appearing on his tail feathers. In a startling contrast to the otherwise soft colors of his feathers, his talons are as saffron yellow as his beak—and, like his beak, each talon is tipped in pure black.
Personality- Fearless, this avian will be. While he’ll possess the shyness typical of his species at birth, his early Bonding will soon serve to vanquish that—and replace it with a creature quite at home among dragons and whers. Firelizards and Salamandyrs will always be iffy—wild blood is too close to the surface for this male to ever view them as anything but food. With training, though, at least you can rest assured he won’t try to actually eat any of them. With people, the male is not excessively outgoing, preferring the company of his own, but if humans respect him, then all’s right in the world, isn’t it.
A set of contradictions is presented by the male from the very start. While he’s undeniably intelligent, capable of undoing complicated knots and locks if he sets his mind to it, he’s also stubborn enough, the bond just loose enough, that he’ll resist as much as he can. Just for the fun of it, perhaps—or maybe because it amuses him (in a serene kind of way, for he’ll never demonstrate any kind of amusement) to see people get frustrated. However, as his respect for his Bonded is a mirror of the respect that His has for him, any frustration betrayed on his person’s part guarantees that they let the male’s affection for them slip away just slightly. And winning it back? A long, grueling process.
This male will soon find his favorites among foods. While he accepts most cooked foods and tidbits from his Bonded graciously enough, he’ll much prefer to catch his own—and his favorites are avians. Not of his own kind—never—but those songbirds, the irritatingly fearless six-limbed creatures, will always be at risk when this male graces the skies with his presence. It is, ultimately, just a preference, though—he’ll happily enough bring down young felines or canines or just about anything else, given the chance.
