Denizens of Dragonfire

[dragonfire]

K'sor and brown Tafelth, weyrling
Brogan and green Cath, weyrling
Archivist Rolore

[dragonfire]

Status:Accepted
Show Us Your Colors

Name: K'sor
Rank: Weyrling
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Wing:

Give Us A Portrait

Appearance: Khrysor is a fairly handsome young man. He is medium height, standing at 5'11. He has a slender build which is transforming from merely thin to lithe as he enters adulthood. He has refined, delicate features; some would call him a "pretty boy."

He has red hair that falls to his shoulders and dark brown eyes. Khrysor is naturally pale, but he tans easily enough if he spends time in the sun. Clothing wise, he enjoys dressing up and wearing stylish pieces. He is often seen carrying his gitar.

Personality: Friendly and cheerful, Khrysor has an exuberant personality. He is an extrovert and very open about his feelings. He is sociable and likes to meet new people. Khrysor is empathetic and he has good judgement about how people are feeling. He likes to put people at ease and make them feel comfortable in a situation.

Khrysor is a Harper, but it is more than just a craft for him. Music is his life. He loves singing and playing music. As he goes through the day, he is always humming or singing to himself, and when he needs to think he plays his gitar. He is a strong believer in the unifying power of music as something that everyone enjoys. Khrysor understands how music can set the mood or teach people something.

He is an adamant pacifist, something that he is vocal about to only his trusted friends. He believes that the war is wrong and he longs to see an end to the fighting. One reason he decided to become a candidate was that he thought being a rider and a Harper would make it easier to spread the word about his beliefs.

History: Khrysor was born in Southern Boll Hold. His father, Tason, was a Weaver who specialized in tapestries. He secretly traded with the South, but Khrysor didn't realize this until he was much older. He learned his pacifist views from his parents, who both wished for peace. His mother, Lehuri, gave him his first taste of music. She was a good singer and knew how to play the pipes, although she never became a Harper herself. When he was just five, Khrysor picked up the pipes and began to play a simple tune he had heard his mother play. Later, he asked if he could make his own set of pipes. After his two sisters were born, his parents couldn't give his as much attention, but he amused himself by learning more songs.

Naturally, he was sent to the College as soon as he reached apprenticeship age to become a Harper. Khrysor was very homesick for the first few weeks, but then he loved being at the College. He was skilled at playing and singing, but had some trouble with the records room. He had remarkably bad handwriting for a Harper. At the College, he also learned more about history, and fostered his pacifist beliefs.

Although he was devoted to being a Harper, he also harbored a secret wish to be a dragonrider. He dreamed of being bonded to one of the great beasts, although the idea of fighting terrified him. Then, right after Southern stole some of the eggs, he was Searched. Khrysor decided to go to the Weyr, wondering if he could somehow help the cause for peace.


-Parents: Tason, Weaver, Southern Boll, age 40 (father)
Lehuri, Resident, Southern Boll, age 38 (mother)
Siblings: Kilima, sister, age 12
Suhri, sister, age 10

------

Name: Tafelth,87421F
Color: Brown
Appearance: Tafelth's hide makes you think of one thing:chocolate. It is a dark, rich brown, approaching black in some places. If it is possible for brown to be bright, this color is, rather vibrant, not the dull color that some Brown dragons have. Swirls of light brown, a pale tan, are swirled throughout, particularily on back and wings. His tail spade, the end of an unusually short tail, is colored a brown so light it's almost white. Tafelth is a large brown, bulky and stocky. His features are short and stout, with a short neck and tail, slightly rounded wings, and blunt snout.

Personality: Tafelth is, above all else, a friend. He is tireless in his efforts at kindness. He is extremely gracious, if not graceful, and generous. If ever there is a creature in need, Tafelth is there, trying to help in any way possible. He is rarely, if ever, offending or mean in any way, he avoids insult at all costs. Tafelth gets extremely upset if he sees someone being picked on ridiculed, and he will always stick up for them-be they dragon, fire-lizard, human, or anything else. Tafelth, unlike most dragons, has a love for animals and nature, and he can sit for hours watching herds of runnerbeats or flocks of birds. He does hunt, of course, but he does so cleanly and quickly, and without being choosy about his victim. Battles will be fairly difficult for him, an obstacle his rider will need to overcome.

[dragonfire]

Status: Accepted
Show Us Your Colors

Name: Rolore
Rank: Archivist, possible Wher candidate
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual, I suppose
Wing: N/A

Give Us A Portrait
Appearance: Rolore was never the most eye-catching person, but now any handsomeness he might have had is marred by the scar across his face. A jagged line cuts across the left side of his face, including his mouth, giving him a permanent grimace. He has lost his left eye completely and wears a cloth eye patch. He also has a large amount of scar tissue on his chest, and he walks with a slight limp. He has dark brown hair which he wears shoulder length so he can hide his face a little, and green eyes.

Rolore usually dresses in dark clothing and will rarely take it upon himself to dress up in any finery. He is tall and thin, and what facial features he has that are unmarred by scars are sharp and angular. His skin has a naturally olive complexion but he does not spend a ton of time in the sun, so he isn't very tan.

Personality: Rolore is a bitter person who takes out his regrets in life on others. He is antisocial and pessimistic. He does not discriminate against women or homosexuals...but only because he dislikes everyone equally. He resents all dragonriders, whether they be green or bronze, and he is insanely jealous of them. Rolore does grudgingly respect Northern riders for their role in protecting the North but really, he only likes them a little better than Northern riders.

Most of his bitterness and mean spirit stems only from insecurity. Rolore is extremely insecure about his scars and disabilities and he always thinks people are staring at him and judging him. For that reasons, he thinks it is best to alienate other people before they can hurt him. He doesn't believe anyone can ever really love him--cue violin music--and as such he always mistrusts people.

For all that he wishes he could be in the sky with the dragonriders, the records room is his world. Rolore spends most of his days there and he is very meticulous about everything that goes on there. If he can't have what he wants in life, he can at least make what he does have absolutely perfect.

History: Rolore was born in Telgar Hold. Both of his parents died when he was young and he was raised by his grandmother, a strict but caring women. He had a fairly good childhood, although he was always a little shy and quiet. He grew up learning about the war and even as a child he always wanted to be a rider and defend Pern. He almost refused to pick a Craft because he was so set on candidacy, but his grandmother made him become an apprentice and he chose Glasscraft, partly because it had been his father's Craft.

As it turned out, Rolore did have a talent for the delicate glasscraft and he enjoyed apprenticeship. Still, when the chance arose, he still decided to become a candidate. Rolore was so excited to be a candidate that he was the star pupil in candidate lessons. He came out of his shell a lot during candidacy, making some new friends. But on the Hatching Sands, disaster struck. He got in the way of an angry dragonet and got mauled, resulting in serious wounds.

Rolore survived, but with terrible injuries. He broke a leg when the bronze stepped on him, his chest was badly scarred, and he lost his left eye. The Healers told him he was unfit to ever be a candidate again. Rolore was enraged and depressed, but he did not want to leave the Weyr. One of the old Archivists took him in and put him to work. Rolore took to the Archives like a lifeboat, devoting himself to work. Five turns passed like a blur, with Rolore slowly recovering in his body, but not in his heart.

-Parents:
Rodana, mother, deceased
Lorcain, father, deceased,
Nadina, grandmother/foster mother, old auntie at Telgar Hold

-Siblings: None

[dragonfire]

Status:Accepted
Show Us Your Colors

Name: Brogan
Rank: Weyrling
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual
Wing:

Give Us A Portrait

Appearance: Many people notice her hair first. The raven corkscrew curls fall to her mid back. Usually, she leaves her hair loose, but will tie it back if she is working. Her eyes are a very dark brown. She has a faint scar across her right cheek, which she got when she stumbled onto a wild fire lizard clutch and was attacked by the mother.

Brogan stands at about 5'5. She has a sturdy build with little room for superfluous chubbiness. She is not especially busty, but does not lack in curves completely. Brogan has a round face with a button nose and full lips. Her skin is a light mocha color. Brogan has no patience for fashion and she always dresses in plain, practical clothing.

Personality: People say that Healers aren't created, they are born. And Brogan certainly fits that definition of a Healer. She treats being a Healer as her calling in life, and devotes her entire being to it. Brogan follows a Healer's principles not just within her craft, but in everyday life. She treats everyone around her with respect and kindness. Brogan has a tendency to put others before herself and the right person would be able to manipulate her easily.

Although she is the first to reach out to someone in need, Brogan doesn't like to show weakness in herself. If she is feeling sad or angry, she hides her feelings. Brogan is always smiling, no matter what her true mood is.

Brogan has conflicted views about the war. Fighting and injury go against her very core beliefs, yet she has been raised to support the war. She views supporting South in the war as a duty, and Brogan would never neglect a duty. She believes that if a way to end the fighting arises that suits both sides, they should take it. Brogan dreams of a time when her expertise in battle Healing will not be necessary. However, she also believes that outspoken pacifists are disrespectful to the riders fighting for Southern. Brogan lost her father inbattle, and because of that, she despises the war for taking them, but she would never defile their memory by speaking against his efforts.

She does share most Southerner's stereotypes of hidebound Northerners. A true Southerner, Brogan's most important virtue is honor. Rather than view Southerners with anger, however, she pities them.

History: Brogan was born in Southern Weyr in Turn 2728. Her father, R'ves, was a brownrider and Healer, and her mother, Biluka, was a cook. The two of them were weyrmated out of love and they were happy when Biluka conceived. But in a sad twist of face, she died giving birth to Biluka. She was raised by a foster mother. Her father was crushed by the loss of his weyrmate but he became involved in his daughter's upbringing, keeping Biluka's memory alive by caring for Brogan.

Even as a child, Brogan loved helping people. She was known as the motherly one among her friends. When she was old enough, she made it clear that she wanted to follow in her father's footsteps. Starting at age ten, she became his assistant. When she was younger, she was only allowed to help with small tasks, but as she grew, she was given more and more responsibilities. Gradually, R'ves began to train Brogan as a Healer.

When Brogan was 13, her father was killed the same way her mother was, in battle. This time, she was hit even harder by the loss. It took her a long time to get over her sorrow, and when she did, she was even more determined to become a Healer. She went to Taskin to complete her training.

Then, the Gold egg was brought to Southern. Brogan was Searched for it, and after much deliberation, she decided to stand. She could think of no better way to help her Weyr. To do so, she would need to postpone walking the tables, but she was willing to do so for this important duty.

Update: Impressed green Cath at the stolen clutch, and now she must move to Northern.

-Parents:
R'ves, rider of Brown Routh, Healer (deceased)
Biluka, Cook (deceased)

-Siblings: None
-Firelizards: Bronze flitt Valor

Other: Her place is on the sidelines as a Healer and she doesn't like to fight, but if it comes to that, her weapon of choice is a bow and arrow. She has pretty good aim.

--------

Name: Cath
Color: Green (8B8B00)
Appearance: Cath is small, even for a green. She is also slight, built with very little in the way of muscle. Her endurance is downright negligible. With long wings and a very streamlined build, however, her speed is remarkable, and when she flies, her pale, rich, yellow-green hide positively gleams in the sunlight. With an almost buttery underbelly, pale claws, and wings that turn very pale on their underside, the tiny green is highly reminiscent of spring in every aspect of her appearance.
Personality: Cath is vocal and cheery. There is no problem too big to ignore, no event too depressing to pretend away, and no argument too important to not bother having. She flirts, frolics, and finds every excuse on Pern to never bother actually growing up. She would much rather find a way to be happy than find a way to handle the problems of the world. She doesn't know how to fix them, after all. That's for the golds and bronzes and other depressing colours to deal with. She may as well just enjoy the rest of the world while she can, then.