C'vin of Bronze Ohtarth

[Ivy]

Name: C'vin
Age: 34
Turnday: March 14, 2989
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Bronzerider
Weyr: Inverness Weyr

Appearance:
Top to bottom there is one thing everyone is likely to notice - Corvin is cute. He is also fit, its obvious he has taken care of his body from an early age. He is toned all over, but more so in his legs - perhaps the effect of growing up in a traveling caravan. Standing at roughly 6'1" he is neither overly tall nor overly short. He'll be taller than some and shorter than others, not exactly average but nothing too spectacular.

Short sheered, wavy, dirty-blonde locks top the man's head, bushy dark brows brood over his hazel eyes - which tend to take on a darker sheen when he was angry or upset by something. He has a pronounced nose - not to say it was huge or anything but it was something that one would notice when looking at him. It set just above his relatively thin lips. He has some facial hair, it is darker than the hair on his head but only a shade or two so. He keeps it cut down short, almost shaved but not quite all the way - it will be rare to see him fully shaved and baby-faced but even rarer to see him with a full beard and mustache. He likes the somewhat grungy look that having stubble gave him, but not the full-out 'homeless' look that a beard would give him.

As far as clothes go, Corvin is a simple man. Pants and shirts. Sometimes shorts. Neutral colors. Loose fitting. If it was cheap and simple he probably owned it. He only owned two pairs of shoes - sandals and then some boots. They were brown, so as to match all his outfits.

Personality:
Corvin is a friendly fellow - not that he has many friends to show for it. His friendliness isn't the kind Southerners are used to, as he grew up mostly in the North. His views on women are somewhere between those he learned in the North and those he has begun to adapt from living in the South. He respects women as a whole but doesn't put much stock in them for more than bearing children, cooking, and cleaning. However he'd never lay a hand on one in anger, nor would he tell a woman her place is in the kitchen (not to her face, he isn't stupid). His views are sure to broaden as he spends more time in the South, especially in the Weyr.

He is curious, almost to the point of being obsessive with things that pique his interest. He is open-minded and adventurous, despite his father's attempts to beat those traits out of him. Honesty is something he values, even if the truth isn't something others really want to hear. He has some tact to him when dealing with delicate issues but not much.

He adores the fairer sex, when it comes to the bedroom at least. He has caught himself eying other men but he was raised by a closed-minded man and a timid woman so it is doubtful he would ever pursue anything with another man on his own. He sees nothing wrong with bedding one woman one night then another the next -though his sense of loyalty and responsibility would keep him by a woman's side should he get her pregnant.

History:

Harper, your song has a sorrowful sound,
Though the tune was written gay.
Your voice is sad and your hands are slow
And your eye meeting mine turns away.
Dragonsong

2989-3010: From the North...

Born to trader Vinelis and his wife Corrina, life was nothing spectacular for Corvin. He was not raised by his parents alone - no the whole caravan of traders had a hand in raising the young lad. Mostly men, with a few women, they moved from Hold to Hold to barter with Holdfolk to sell their goods and take on new goods to sell at the next Hold. This meant Corvin grew up meeting a lot of different people from different walks of life, though in the North it seemed most people had something in common.

Growing up with the influence of the trader men, Corvin never really thought much of the plight of women in the North. That is, until the caravan took to the seas and headed to the Southern continent.

Life in the North had grown too intense and risky, at least that is what Vinelis said. The Weyrs had started fighting, Benden and Fort were at each other's throats. Traveling was getting more dangerous, the whole atmosphere in the North - while it had never been overly friendly - was now acidic and venomous. So South they went, not all of the traders in their caravan joined them but most of them did. The seas were less than friendly to the group of mostly land-locked men, women, and children. They lost at least three members of the caravan to the seas on the trip South but then they made port.

Thankful to be back on solid ground the traders were quick to gather maps and familiarize themselves with the roads to and from the different Holds. It was a strange new world to the Northern bred group but the change of scenery was mostly welcome - the children in the caravan loved it. Corvin himself, now around eleven turns, was enthralled by the new people and places in the South. Firelizards had been seen up North, but here in the South it seemed everyone had one. Eager to get one himself he tried to convince his father to trade for some of the firelizard eggs, but Vinelis did not see much value in the flying beasts as pets and they were so common he wouldn't be able to get rid of any extra eggs for much profit so he said no.

Crushed, Corvin attempted to steal some from a nest he found by one of their campsites in the jungles between Southern Hold and Selenitas Hold. This venture did not turn out well for the boy - and the angry gold firelizard that caught him reaching for her eggs gave him a taste of her talons for his efforts. Left with light scarring along his hand and right arm the boy retreated back to camp where he then had to deal with his father - a swift belting helped hit home the message. No meant no, it did not mean do whatever you wanted to behind your father's back.

The group of traders finally made it to Selenitas Hold - and once more Corvin's young mind was intrigued, this time by the Weyr. The only one in the South he found it fascinating how different these riders seemed to be than the ones to the North. Vinelis and Corrina did their best to pile chores onto the boy while they were near the Weyr though, especially when riders were about.

From Selenitas Hold the group traveled to Blossom Hold - the roads bringing them closer to Selenitas Weyr than Vinelis would have liked. At one point Corvin tried to steal away in the night when they made camp to go to the Weyr, but he was caught by one of the other children in the caravan and once more a swift belting was given to him. Not that any amount of beating seemed to be able to get rid of his curiosity.

It was in Blossom that a wayward rag-tag group of Harpers joined with the trading caravan. They spent their nights telling of the Weyr and asking questions about the North. They were not hall trained harpers but they were entertaining and seemed to know quite a bit about the area so Vinelis let them come along. They spun songs about the unlikely Gold Impression to Shmee - breaking the Selenitas bloodline. None of the traders found this information very interesting, they had little to do with the Weyr.

The crossing from Blossom to Hyphen was a dangerous one - they could only travel on certain days, and spent much of their time taking cover as dragonwings flew overhead - clearing the skies of Thread. It was a long journey, interrupted so often by Threadfall it seemed they spent more time hidden away in small cotholds or the occasional cave than they did on the road. Despite the harsh journey and the sullen mood of the traders, the harpers continued to sing almost nightly - and with Thread falling their songs were mostly about dragonriders. Corvin hung on the harpers' every word (despite how his father thought ill of them), and was sad when they parted ways when they neared Hyphen Hold.

3010-3016: Holed up at Hyphen Hold...

Once in Hyphen, Vinelis decided they would set roots. Or rather that he was tired of the hard life of traveling, and now with thread falling once more it was safer there than anywhere else. Hyphen suited the man, now getting up in his age, as it reminded him of the North where he was born. Corvin, now in his early twenties, was less than impressed with the Hold. He yearned to go back towards Selenitas, but dared not go alone. They had encountered more than their fair share of felines in their travels in the South (gee - thanks Serava) and he wasn't foolish enough to think he could make it on the roads alone.

So he stayed in Hyphen and took up whatever work he could. He proved to be a decent miner, if only because of his physical fitness. He hated it in the mines though, hated feeling confined, hated feeling stuck. Even more than that though, he hated how Hyphen had little relations to Selenitas Weyr. He never heard news of the Weyr, never heard any of the Hold harpers weave songs or tales of the Weyr. The one time there was a dragonpair in the Hold he missed out on it - they'd come to gather more firestone. He'd been scouting out a new mine on the far side of the Hold's lands when the pair came and only heard about it after the fact. Furious he retreated to his room in the small shack of a house his father had managed to purchase - pouting like a child for a few days.

Vinelis took a turn for the worse health-wise, though it was no surprise to his family. The man had been entirely too hard on his body from the time he was ten turns on, and as he finally took time to relax it all caught up to him. He passed in 3014, leaving Corvin and Corrina alone - as Corrina had never provided any other children in her prime. Corrina too was getting older, gray touching her hair and wrinkles forming in her once smooth skin. She was a good woman, whose personality seemed to blossom more once her husband passed away - not that it was appreciated fully by anyone in Hyphen Hold.

When she too passed, a mere turn after her husband from some unknown illness, Corvin was left alone in the shack-like home. He wanted to take up the trader's lifestyle once more, but most of the others in the caravan had already moved on or had set up homes and lives in Hyphen. For once in his life Corvin was not surrounded by a large family-like group and he hadn't a clue what to do with himself. So mining it was, miserable as he was it was something to put marks in his pocket.

Change didn't come for the young man until the following turn when a Gather was hosted in Hyphen. Finally, it felt like life was being breathed into the Hold. He'd attended Gathers in the North - but they were a whole different thing in the South. As people poured in from all over the South (maybe all over was an overstatement, but it was a refreshing change from the boring Hyphen Holders) Corvin became excited. He didn't have any wares to show but he had marks saved up - and riders would come. Even in the North the riders made time to come to Gathers, this would be his chance to get out.

Things didn't go quite as planned though - apparently something had happened. Riders were killing riders, even here in the South. When did it become so much like the North? Unable to get a ride back to the Weyr on dragonback due to the chaos that occurred, he managed to join up with some travelers headed back to Blossom Hold from the Gather. At least he wouldn't have to travel alone.

3016-3018: The road to Selenitas...

The folks he traveled with were a talkative sort - a nice change of pace for Corvin. They knew more about the Weyr as well, and were more than happy to fill him in on what had been going on the past six turns. They told him of the various clutches that had hatched, the change of power when defected riders from Benden (coined as Wasteland Riders) effectively took over Selenitas Weyr, and how some riders had been killed. Rumors had it some had escaped but no one knew where they went. It was assumed the survivors went North, though those were just rumors.

Finally they made it to Blossom and Corvin meant to bid his farewells and be on his way. However one of the daughters of the men he had traveled with declared she was with child - and she named Corvin as the father. As he had indeed bedded the young woman (who truth be told was only seventeen turns to his twenty-seven) he felt it only right he stay. So he settled down while she was pregnant and took care of her, though they were never Joined. It wasn't until the child was born that it became obvious it wasn't truly his - nothing about the child looked like him, and bore a more striking resemblance to one of the other men they'd traveled with.

Cleared of the possibility of being a father Corvin once more took up on his quest to head to the Weyr. As he readied himself and his belongings though, disaster struck in the form of an earthquake. Terrifying as it was at Blossom - it was even more so at the Weyr itself, or so he heard from those with friends and family there. He stuck around in Blossom again, to help repair damages the quake left. Once he was done with his work there he packed his few belongings and set out for the Weyr - only to find it in ruins and no one there.

Aggravated he set up camp, hoping to run into someone anyone who could point him in the right direction. They couldn't just up and disappear, the South needed them! He stayed a full seven day there at his camp, but not once did he happen upon anyone. Making up his mind to head back to Blossom he was spending his last night in camp - and that's when it happened. Unexpectedly a group of felines on the prowl came upon him, he couldn't fight them all off. Things looked grim indeed for Corvin, until a greenrider appeared. She had come back to the ruins to look for some of her missing belongings and instead found Corvin a bloody mess about to be mauled to death by felines. The beasts were quickly dispatched by the green and the severely injured Corvin was whisked away to Selenitas - the new one.

Coming to in the infirmary a few days later, Corvin's wounds were on their way to healing thanks to the healers of the Weyr. So now the young man, nearing his 30th turnday, must find his place within the Weyr or give up whatever foolish notion brought him there in the first place.

Up, up, and away...

Too old to be a Candidate, at least for dragons, Corvin accepted his role as regular Weyrfolk in Selenitas. Aside from the harpy of a Headwoman he had to learn to avoid, life was rather easy - especially since he was in one place and no longer wandering around the South. He learned what he could about dragons and the way the Weyr ran, it seemed rather straight forward enough even though the idea of a council threw him off.

A Gold rose and then a clutch was laid to harden on the Sands. While he took no part in the touching (or rather viewing as the Junior Weyrwoman had apparently lost all sense of reality when her Gold laid her eggs) he heard the Candidates talking about the eggs and he could not wait for his opportunity to see them. Soon enough it came, the Gold's hum started up the rest of the Weyr and he headed to the Sands.

It was there that he watched the clutch hatch - a clutch that gave him his dragon.

Yes, Corvin the trader, the nearly 30 turn old who sat in the Stands and was not even a Candidate, Impressed. Not only did he Impress, but C'vin managed to catch the eye and mind of a Bronze no less. Bronze Ohtarth cried for His from the Sands and of course C'vin could not deny the little dragon.

Weyrlinghood was interesting for C'vin, he was much older than most of the group save for perhaps a few of those bonded to Blues. Keeping to himself he and Ohtarth did well, which was good since things were about to change drastically for the pair.

While they worked their way through Weyrlinghood, life on Pern was changing. Specifically, the Selenitas council had decided as a whole that they should throw their hand into the ring up North - they would side with Benden against Fort. Graduation could have brought on the opportunity to go North and fight with the others, but it didn't. He along with most the other new riders (or riders of dragons under a few turns old) were ordered to remain South.

Missing out on the battles, not that he minded (Ohtarth did though), he took care of Thread and kept up with wing training. The battle up North ended, Benden and Selenitas were victorious. Something had to be done about the way things were set up though, and so something was - the Summit.

It was at this Summit a new Weyr was decided upon, Inverness. Rules for riders, crafters, and holds were established - none effected him much save for one. Now that there were only two Weyrs and they wanted to balance out the numbers between them, C'vin and Ohtarth were to be posted to Inverness.

North they went, orders were orders. Even if they didn't like them too much

Name: Ohtarth
Age: 4 turns, 5 months (August, 3018)
Color Code: Base (868600), Markings (625e00)/(815200)
Clutch: Herioc; Impressively Great
Dam and Sire: Nitrath and Weith
Egg: Republic Egg

Appearance:
Although Ohtarth is actually an average sized bronze, he will look distinctly small compared to some of his clutch siblings, and to his mother. He's thin and wiry; actually, as a hatchling he will be pretty wimpy, with a sort of soft, feminine form that would be more at home on a skinny Green than a Bronze. If Ohtarth puts in the work (not unlikely given his personality), he'll end up with the sort of ropy muscle that doesn't quite look like it should be there, but he will always look skinny and a touch awkward until he learns to own it. Somewhat undersized wings help his agility but cut his stamina, leaving him more suited to chasing small golds and large greens; dragons like Millieth and Nitrath are likely to be beyond his grasp, or at least very challenging catches with short falls (and correspondingly small clutches). Tail, legs, and neck are all normal lengths, but lacking the kind of muscle some of his other siblings have, giving them an attenuated appearance despite their normalcy.

There is something about Ohtarth's shape that would make even the most manly of Bronzes watch him with interest if he were somehow tinted green. While his frame is certainly not pretty, there a gentle rounding of his chest, a surprising elegance to the curve of his neck and the shape of his head, that is undeniably feminine and oddly alluring. Even his claws, while deadly sharp, are a sort of pearlescent white. His ridges are smooth and understated, his eyes round and larger than normal, giving him a touch of innocence. As a young dragon, his gait - both on land and in the air - is bound to be a bit funny, stumbling, and strange, but if Ohtarth learns to own his hints of femininity, that will smooth out, giving way to a sort of slinkiness that will allow him to move near silently. This would be an asset in battle, but that, too, will take maturity to realize - Ohtarth would rather bull in head-on, not really something he's built for.

While his base coat is definitely bronze, Ohtarth's hide looks like it couldn't quite decide what shade of bronze it wanted to be. The most traditional of bronzes is patched in with a much browner tone, lacking almost all shine, and a very shiny greeny-bronze that is almost olive. The three colors are almost equal in distribution; certainly no one would be able to point one out as the dominant shade. Although the splotches are very uneven, they are unified in their distinct differences from each other - no fading from one to the other, here. The lines between color are as distinct as they can be on a dragon's hide. The overall effect makes for surprisingly effective camouflage, especially in the kind of jungly forests that surround the Weyr.

Personality:
Ohtarth is a straightforward, enthusiastic dragon, easy to work with and friendly to all. He utterly lacks the arrogance of your average bronze... within his Weyr, at least. All the Selenitas dragons are his friends and comrades, and even the ones he doesn't get along with will be treated with a grudging acceptance and enough respect to get through working together. 'Other' dragons should be careful, though. He blatantly discriminates against dragons not born at Selenitas, no matter how long they have been at the Weyr. Of course, he won't know unless they or their Rider mentions it (although pale-hided dragons will be treated with suspicion until their lineage is established), and he's excellent at giving people and dragons the benefit of the doubt. Still, best not to mention your place of birth around Ohtarth. Just say how much you love Selenitas.

Oddly enough, he also seems to show a preference for males above females. He doesn't have a problem with the ladies, so to speak, but he'd rather talk about fighting and battle strategies than butterflies and flowers, which is what he assumes all females spend their time talking about (generalizations are kind of his thing). Wrestling and aerial maneuvers will be his pastimes of choice, and he's always afraid he'll hurt the smaller, more delicate Greens, or put the Golds at risk - all the more reason to spend time with the males. He'll even go so far as to cuddle up with blues, browns, and even other bronzes if they'll let him. He does chase, of course; biology won't let him ignore the Queens, and occasionally he'll go after a Green, too, although his motivation is more likely a good workout than Catching. Still, he'll give it his best shot, if and when he does decide to go up.

Despite his foibles, Ohtarth is a genuinely optimistic and hardworking dragon, the kind that believes you can achieve anything if you just spend enough time and energy trying. He has a touch of innocence about him; he will always be slightly childlike, especially when the goals he sets for himself are idealistic and unachievable. He's always working on something, and if he's not, he's working on finding something to work on. It isn't easy to distract him once he's set a goal for himself, but if someone manages it, it is far more likely that the old thing will go undone than that Ohtarth will ever return to it. He's not really a multi-tasker. He is passionate, though; his moods come and go like flash floods, but when they go, they're gone. Truly able to be angry one second, then let it go and return to task at hand, Ohtarth might be a good leader if he ever stops trying to direct his Wing to destroy the Red Star or raze Fort to the ground.

Name: Nymeria
Species: Salamandyr
Age: 4 turns, 7 months (June, 3018)
Color: Green (5B9C64)
Egg: The Magician Egg
Clutch: Abracadabra Clutch
Dam and Sire: Leviathan & King/Asshat

Physical Appearance: A true verdant green, the girl is the color of nature in it's ever growing and lively manner. Her hue taps into the very real sorcery of the world all around and the Pernbound magic of the giving and motherly earth. Do not think that there is anything mundane or everyday about the girl, prickly where it counts, she is the thorny vines of the rose bush, the deep emerald of the leaves pouring over her hide and spilling darkly over the spindly frame of her little wings. Like fresh shoots from the ground, her limbs and thinner membranes are covered in the lighter shades of newly sprouted vegetation, and ages into the matured hues that at places take on a warm, even reddish cast. Joints in particular bare these rusty growths, appearing as thorns upon her elbows and the tip of her tail. The color is most vivid on the points of her sharpened frill spars, where the red almost appears as a stain from a victim's contact with the piercing little prongs. These details would steal the show if not for the dark lining around her catty eyes; a perfectly blackish shade of evergreen.

She is not the smallest of the clutch in body, nor the largest, finding a perfect medium between the two. Her wings are another story. They are seemingly stunted, and bat-like. Broad no doubt, but in span they leave something to be desired, ending in a blunt curve which allows her to hang-glide leisurely on the air in near levitation. While she may be able to stay afloat for sometime, she is not going to be going anywhere fast, preferring to use the appendages as a parachute as opposed to a propeller. In contrast, her frill is sharp and well formed, and her tail is of the sort to appear to go on and on for eternity. In the manner she often twists it, it is hard to determine where is end and where is the beginning. This looping design is mirrored in one other place - on her very hide. A lemniscate - the infinity sign - swirls about in ceaseless turns of the same brazen auburn that appears elsewhere on her body, right there on the heart of her chest in a spot only noticed when she rears her shapely head. Despite the odd wings and comically long tail streaming out behind her, she is a remarkably attractive specimen, whose silhouette nips in at the waist and legs prove to be mobile enough to move her about with added agility.

Personality: She is the mirror to her glowing and stately sister. All the same potential, channeled into a more showy and staged pizazz. Words are the name of the game with this one, and she is anything but quiet. A master communicator and rhetorician, the green is of the belief that utterances are action, and that all that is said has symbolic punch. We shape the world around us with the meaning we create - context is ours to change and warp - and so even what appears to be an innocuous sigh or harmless groan is a charged and active message, they are every bit as powerful of an incantation as the fluid and full sentences with which the green came equipped. Thus she uses the gift of grammar she was given to try and inspire change in her friends and acquaintances, and speaks as if what she says will come to pass simply because it was verbalized. Unfortunately for her - and her bonded - this doesn't necessarily mean she is quite the best listener. Oh she'll lend an ear to the voice in need, but don't delay her with notes of advice. She has everything under control thank you very much, and as much as she tries to hear someone out, she is just as likely to hum and haw in dismissal before going off completing tasks her own way.

There is very little that is traditionally feminine in her manners. In addition to her stubborn streak, the green's mindvoice is husky, as deep as any male's, lilting only faintly to give the notion that there is a woman after all there inside her. Those who are opposed to squeaky and high sounds will be thankful for the soothing cadence, but likely thrown asunder upon realizing its source in the apparently female green. This is not all however, her very confidence seems to be steeped in testosterone. While pride is not a man's domain alone, there is a particular brand of masculine gusto with which she expresses it. At times flamboyant, she will strive to outdo anyone who attempts to challenge her, and will especially aim to best her "heavenly and angelic" green clutch sister. At very least there is nothing underhanded in these dealings. She is not a secret keeper - despite her word sorcery there is a sense of transparency about her behavior and she makes it more than well known her every intention. In this way she remains genuine and even likable; if a bit contrary she is not purposely malicious.