Post by Rowana on Dec 5, 2011 10:57:51 GMT -5
Name: O'lim
Age: 58 (Born February 2964)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Rider
Physical Appearance: O'lim's dark brown hair and beard are now peppered mostly silver with age. His features are fairly ordinary, if a touch rather wrinkled around the edges. His face is hard and rarely smiles when he can help it. He stands at 5' 9" high and is fairly muscular for his age. A few scars can be seen on his arms and face, including one deep one across his forehead and left eyebrow.
His clothes are simple and practical for the most part. He prefers browns and greys and can often been seen in flying gear at odd times. He will almost always wear boots and sometimes gloves. The only odd thing about his attire is his habit of wearing a rather outlandishly bright red sash for his belt.
Personality: Traditional, cranky, and stubborn is this old bronzerider. He is very stuck in his ways and doesn't take to change very easily. He prefers the old ways, when dragonriding was all about following your Weyrleader and Weyrwoman and fighting thread. He doesn't necessarily go out of his way to argue or resist those in charge, but he will complain loudly and sometimes outright refuse orders.
Young people are probably his least favorite to be around. 'Uppity weyrlings' and their newfangled ideas will often be his favorite things to complain about. Despite all this grouchiness, he is in fact a very capable leader. He cares greatly for the lives intrusted to him and keeps them together with firm discipline and order. Nothing angers him more than putting fellows in danger through negligence or stupidity.
Though it can take time to get past his rough exterior, O'lim can actually be a very loyal friend. He has a secret fondness for gambling and occasionally consuming too much wine, which is always better with someone to share. Often it is only his own stubbornness that keeps him from having more good friends or rising higher in the ranks.
History: Okalim was the son of a trader, originally of Selenitas Hold. Growing up, he spent most of his time with his two older brothers learning the family trade. He was fairly sure that trading would be his life and was perfectly happy with the idea. Until his father took him and his brothers to Selenitas Weyr on a trading trip. They arrived in time for one of Gold Fath's clutches and were honored to witness such an event. (Turn 2982)
Okalim, then eighteen turns of age, was excited by the hatching. It wasn't everyday a Holder got to see dragons up close, let alone their eggs and young. To the even greater surprise and shock of him and his family, one of the final eggs hatched into a small bronze. Without thinking, Okalim ran down to meet the young dragon, who demanded to know why he wasn't being fed right that instant. The Impression of O'lim to Daleth had been made and the boy's life had completely changed.
Though it took him a while to get used to the idea of being a rider, O'lim was young and adjusted quickly. He grew proud of Selenitas and the legacy of the Weyrwoman's who controlled it. It was all right in his mind that this was how the Weyr should and would always be run. Especially since rumors from the North grew increasingly troubling. It culminated in Fort's stealing of Benden's eggs and the beginning of the War. O'lim was furious that dragonriders would engage in such a monstrous affair.
O'lim's perfect Weyr would not last, however. Thread began to fall and with it, the first of the unbearable changes. It was not that Thread that bothered O'lim, who had longed for a chance to show his skill as a rider. It was Shmee. Wretched, plain, Hyphen girl Shmee and her (in his mind) wrongful Impression of Aslath, Fath's golden daughter. It was simply not right! Seresta was supposed to Impress her! The line of Weyrwomen was broken and O'lim was not pleased in the least.
His mood only grew more angry as first Seresta committed suicide, then her mother Sera died two turns later. The line of Selenitas was truly dead. Now even Northern queens and riders were arriving, bringing their influence into the once pure Weyr. O'lim did not like it at all. He didn't like Shmee, and he certainly didn't like Kaegan. It was their fault, in his mind, that the violence and treacherousness of the North had come down on them all.
And it seemed O'lim was right. Shortly thereafter, C'leon attempted to seize control by winning Aslath's maiden flight, deformed dragons began to hatch, Weyrlings were massacred, and Selenitas entered the war in earnest after Shmee's kidnapping. O'lim found himself unable to do anything to help - little Daleth could never hope to out fly large, talented bronzes like Salenth, after all - so O'lim figured that his best chance for survival was to stay out of politics altogether. As the war escalated, he faded into the background, watching as more and more of his friends were lost to the Northern riders and more changes took place. The only thing that kept him going was his residual pride in Selenitas' past, and his nostalgia for the good old days.
Various attacks and thefts and sieges came and went, and O'lim played the roles he was given competently and quietly, always working doggedly to get the Northern ideas out of Selenitas and back up where they belonged. If he grew ever more grumpy, who was to notice? Most of his friends were dead, anyway. Powerless to stop the changes sweeping his Weyr and unwilling to risk his and Daleth's life in some grand power play, O'lim was relegated primarily to Wingsecond positions and generally forgotten by the 'uppity weyrlings' that had caused the problem in the first place.
He was so forgotten, in fact, that when the Wastelanders came no one told him to get out. Luckily, old O'lim and little Daleth seemed like a minor threat to Ja'kin, and when the two were discovered by the Wasteland strike team they were able to successfully beg for their lives. They maintained their place in the background and actually managed to stay on the Threadfall wings, keeping them from having to attack their own. O'lim quietly seethed, but he knew there was nothing he could do.
The earthquake left O'lim trapped and unconscious. Though he was rescued, he regrets being so unable to help his comrades during the disaster. Moving to the new location doesn't sit well with him either. The old Selenitas had been his home for so long it was hard to let it go. Worse still, those who'd left before now ruled the Weyr by a Council. O'lim did not like it one bit. A Weyr wasn't a democracy in his mind. It was supposed to be ruled by the Weyrleader, chosen by the queen herself. He didn't think this Council would be able to make the hard decisions without arguing too much.
The alliance with Benden made O'lim furious. This, in his mind, was the last straw. Bad enough that trouble from the North came down to meet them. Now the Council had put them all right in the thick of things. He was tempted to refuse to participate at all, but he couldn't leave his younger comrades to fight alone. Maybe he could at least go out with a blaze of glory and not have to worry about all the blasted changes happening.
Luck was not with him, however, and O'lim and Daleth survived the final battle. For all his grumbling he was glad it was finally over. He was looking forward to a nice retirement back with thread fighting, when the Summit meetings took place. As if Councils weren't bad enough, now Holders were having a say in Weyr matters! Lacking the authority to argue, O'lim continued to complain and grumble for turns after the riders were divided.
The rest of this history is up to the adopter and may depend on where he is placed.
Dragon:
Name: Daleth
Color: Bronze (992200)
Age: 40 (Born 2982)
Physical Appearance: Daleth is small, so much so that even some browns will surpass him in size. He is not to be underestimated, however. His muscles are tight and powerful. He is a strong flyer and more agile than most of his color. What his lacks in endurance, he makes up for in speed and agility. His limbs are a touch short, but his tail and wings long and built for speed and sprints.
His color is a deep bronze, nearly red in shade. If not for the shine of his hide, he could almost be mistaken for a brown from a distance. His color is solid and unmarred by markings. Yet age has taken its toll. Thread had marred his right hind quarters and a scar runs along the right side of his neck. Yet these only prove to make him appear more proud and fierce.
Personality: Daleth is not a very friendly dragon at first impression. He can be cranky, stand offish, and downright rude, even to those of higher rank. Respect he will give to those who deserve it, but it must be hard earned. He can be a little sensitive about his size and has quite a temper when roused. He speaks in short, clipped sentences and can be quite sarcastic at times.
Despite all this, Daleth is a loyal and fierce fighter. He will never leave a comrade to stand alone and is often the last to return when he is sure all others are safe. Though he rarely gives praise, he will give grudging respect to those who fly as well or better than himself. He has a fondness for greens, being hard pressed to chase most queens, and will even deign to flirt with them on occasion.
[ ] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
This profile was written primarily by Rowana, with some updates by Ruby.
Age: 58 (Born February 2964)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Rider
Physical Appearance: O'lim's dark brown hair and beard are now peppered mostly silver with age. His features are fairly ordinary, if a touch rather wrinkled around the edges. His face is hard and rarely smiles when he can help it. He stands at 5' 9" high and is fairly muscular for his age. A few scars can be seen on his arms and face, including one deep one across his forehead and left eyebrow.
His clothes are simple and practical for the most part. He prefers browns and greys and can often been seen in flying gear at odd times. He will almost always wear boots and sometimes gloves. The only odd thing about his attire is his habit of wearing a rather outlandishly bright red sash for his belt.
Personality: Traditional, cranky, and stubborn is this old bronzerider. He is very stuck in his ways and doesn't take to change very easily. He prefers the old ways, when dragonriding was all about following your Weyrleader and Weyrwoman and fighting thread. He doesn't necessarily go out of his way to argue or resist those in charge, but he will complain loudly and sometimes outright refuse orders.
Young people are probably his least favorite to be around. 'Uppity weyrlings' and their newfangled ideas will often be his favorite things to complain about. Despite all this grouchiness, he is in fact a very capable leader. He cares greatly for the lives intrusted to him and keeps them together with firm discipline and order. Nothing angers him more than putting fellows in danger through negligence or stupidity.
Though it can take time to get past his rough exterior, O'lim can actually be a very loyal friend. He has a secret fondness for gambling and occasionally consuming too much wine, which is always better with someone to share. Often it is only his own stubbornness that keeps him from having more good friends or rising higher in the ranks.
History: Okalim was the son of a trader, originally of Selenitas Hold. Growing up, he spent most of his time with his two older brothers learning the family trade. He was fairly sure that trading would be his life and was perfectly happy with the idea. Until his father took him and his brothers to Selenitas Weyr on a trading trip. They arrived in time for one of Gold Fath's clutches and were honored to witness such an event. (Turn 2982)
Okalim, then eighteen turns of age, was excited by the hatching. It wasn't everyday a Holder got to see dragons up close, let alone their eggs and young. To the even greater surprise and shock of him and his family, one of the final eggs hatched into a small bronze. Without thinking, Okalim ran down to meet the young dragon, who demanded to know why he wasn't being fed right that instant. The Impression of O'lim to Daleth had been made and the boy's life had completely changed.
Though it took him a while to get used to the idea of being a rider, O'lim was young and adjusted quickly. He grew proud of Selenitas and the legacy of the Weyrwoman's who controlled it. It was all right in his mind that this was how the Weyr should and would always be run. Especially since rumors from the North grew increasingly troubling. It culminated in Fort's stealing of Benden's eggs and the beginning of the War. O'lim was furious that dragonriders would engage in such a monstrous affair.
O'lim's perfect Weyr would not last, however. Thread began to fall and with it, the first of the unbearable changes. It was not that Thread that bothered O'lim, who had longed for a chance to show his skill as a rider. It was Shmee. Wretched, plain, Hyphen girl Shmee and her (in his mind) wrongful Impression of Aslath, Fath's golden daughter. It was simply not right! Seresta was supposed to Impress her! The line of Weyrwomen was broken and O'lim was not pleased in the least.
His mood only grew more angry as first Seresta committed suicide, then her mother Sera died two turns later. The line of Selenitas was truly dead. Now even Northern queens and riders were arriving, bringing their influence into the once pure Weyr. O'lim did not like it at all. He didn't like Shmee, and he certainly didn't like Kaegan. It was their fault, in his mind, that the violence and treacherousness of the North had come down on them all.
And it seemed O'lim was right. Shortly thereafter, C'leon attempted to seize control by winning Aslath's maiden flight, deformed dragons began to hatch, Weyrlings were massacred, and Selenitas entered the war in earnest after Shmee's kidnapping. O'lim found himself unable to do anything to help - little Daleth could never hope to out fly large, talented bronzes like Salenth, after all - so O'lim figured that his best chance for survival was to stay out of politics altogether. As the war escalated, he faded into the background, watching as more and more of his friends were lost to the Northern riders and more changes took place. The only thing that kept him going was his residual pride in Selenitas' past, and his nostalgia for the good old days.
Various attacks and thefts and sieges came and went, and O'lim played the roles he was given competently and quietly, always working doggedly to get the Northern ideas out of Selenitas and back up where they belonged. If he grew ever more grumpy, who was to notice? Most of his friends were dead, anyway. Powerless to stop the changes sweeping his Weyr and unwilling to risk his and Daleth's life in some grand power play, O'lim was relegated primarily to Wingsecond positions and generally forgotten by the 'uppity weyrlings' that had caused the problem in the first place.
He was so forgotten, in fact, that when the Wastelanders came no one told him to get out. Luckily, old O'lim and little Daleth seemed like a minor threat to Ja'kin, and when the two were discovered by the Wasteland strike team they were able to successfully beg for their lives. They maintained their place in the background and actually managed to stay on the Threadfall wings, keeping them from having to attack their own. O'lim quietly seethed, but he knew there was nothing he could do.
The earthquake left O'lim trapped and unconscious. Though he was rescued, he regrets being so unable to help his comrades during the disaster. Moving to the new location doesn't sit well with him either. The old Selenitas had been his home for so long it was hard to let it go. Worse still, those who'd left before now ruled the Weyr by a Council. O'lim did not like it one bit. A Weyr wasn't a democracy in his mind. It was supposed to be ruled by the Weyrleader, chosen by the queen herself. He didn't think this Council would be able to make the hard decisions without arguing too much.
The alliance with Benden made O'lim furious. This, in his mind, was the last straw. Bad enough that trouble from the North came down to meet them. Now the Council had put them all right in the thick of things. He was tempted to refuse to participate at all, but he couldn't leave his younger comrades to fight alone. Maybe he could at least go out with a blaze of glory and not have to worry about all the blasted changes happening.
Luck was not with him, however, and O'lim and Daleth survived the final battle. For all his grumbling he was glad it was finally over. He was looking forward to a nice retirement back with thread fighting, when the Summit meetings took place. As if Councils weren't bad enough, now Holders were having a say in Weyr matters! Lacking the authority to argue, O'lim continued to complain and grumble for turns after the riders were divided.
The rest of this history is up to the adopter and may depend on where he is placed.
Dragon:
Name: Daleth
Color: Bronze (992200)
Age: 40 (Born 2982)
Physical Appearance: Daleth is small, so much so that even some browns will surpass him in size. He is not to be underestimated, however. His muscles are tight and powerful. He is a strong flyer and more agile than most of his color. What his lacks in endurance, he makes up for in speed and agility. His limbs are a touch short, but his tail and wings long and built for speed and sprints.
His color is a deep bronze, nearly red in shade. If not for the shine of his hide, he could almost be mistaken for a brown from a distance. His color is solid and unmarred by markings. Yet age has taken its toll. Thread had marred his right hind quarters and a scar runs along the right side of his neck. Yet these only prove to make him appear more proud and fierce.
Personality: Daleth is not a very friendly dragon at first impression. He can be cranky, stand offish, and downright rude, even to those of higher rank. Respect he will give to those who deserve it, but it must be hard earned. He can be a little sensitive about his size and has quite a temper when roused. He speaks in short, clipped sentences and can be quite sarcastic at times.
Despite all this, Daleth is a loyal and fierce fighter. He will never leave a comrade to stand alone and is often the last to return when he is sure all others are safe. Though he rarely gives praise, he will give grudging respect to those who fly as well or better than himself. He has a fondness for greens, being hard pressed to chase most queens, and will even deign to flirt with them on occasion.
[ ] By checking this box, I am saying that I have read the Rules and History, and will follow them.
This profile was written primarily by Rowana, with some updates by Ruby.
