Orowenth is rather small for a bronze, with the sort of good conformation that often goes unappreciated because it simply looks “average”. He doesn't have bulging muscles or a lean, sleek body, he's just put together exactly the way he should be, perfectly in-proportion and ultimately capable of fulfilling a wide variety of roles in 'Fall. He doesn't seem at all aware of being small – or if he does, he doesn't show it — and he carries himself exactly the way you'd expect a bronze to carry himself: solid, confident, with just a hint of swagger. He's a lighter, slightly yellow-tinted shade of bronze, shinier than most, with leading wingfingers that are darker antique bronze from thumb to wingtip, neck and eyeridges of the same darker color, and a dark “cap” on top of his head.

Orowenth is a dragon of strong convictions, true, but he's not at all a stern, looming bronze like some. He seems to treat his natural confidence and authority almost cavalierly – he's arrogant, of that there's no doubt, and well aware of his own abilities, but he doesn't seem to see any reason to use his strengths responsibly most of the time. In fact, as a hatchling he may seem almost unwilling to lead at all, preferring instead to lark about doing what he wants, when he wants, and bucking authority and yelling fascist (figuratively, of course) any time they try to reign him in. He's active, athletic, and easily distracted as he looks for new thrills, flitting from curiosity to curiosity, female to female, and anything else he can find to keep him interested in between. When he's left to his own devices, he's usually fun and charismatic, with a confidence and basic good nature that could go a long way towards making him well-liked.

Except that… when he's riled up about something, he often doesn't think straight, and he'll do and say things he doesn't really mean. He’s extremely opinionated, even about things he doesn’t really know anything about, and he’ll argue with a fencepost if he thinks it’s standing in the wrong place. In fact, he flat-out seems to enjoy arguing, though it’s hard to see why since it gets him so passionate and wound up that it just can’t be good for his peace of mind, can it? When he’s in the midst of a verbal barrage (or occasionally a physical one, if his rider lets it escalate that far) he can be blunt, his words can be cruel, and he doesn’t always realize he’s, quite frankly, being an ass. He may be occasionally irresponsible and bullheaded, hopelessly stubborn and contrary, true, but he's not stupid or heartless. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt because of his actions, or his inaction, and reminding him of this potential is the quickest way to get him to buckle down and accept responsibility (though he might forget and go back to larking the very next day). He cares about those close to him, and when he does finally decide to take responsibility for them, he may do it in stupid, brash ways if his rider doesn't stop him: throwing himself in front of a clump of Thread to protect a wingmate, for instance, without bothering to think that there might have been an easier way. Of course, part of this is because, unfortunately for a dragon in general and a bronze in particular, Orowenth prefers to work alone. It may seem at-odds with his personality at first, but the truth is that Orowenth doesn't share deep, true feelings very well. When he starts to feel as if he needs to step up and help, he won't really be able to articulate what he's feeling – he'll just start to take more and more onto his own shoulders in order to spare those he loves. Once he sees first-hand the horrors of Thread, he might try to fly the whole 'Fall by himself just to keep his clutchmates safe, if his rider lets him.


Some dragons are small for their colour, others, perfectly formed. Thowrath is neither of these; in fact this bronze is massive. He’s quite possibly the largest bronze hatched at Ista for quite a long time, and he’s solid too, built for strength and durability. He’s also quite striking to look at, one of those pale bronze colours that washes into red bronze over his wings and chest before fading back into pale. This is accentuated by the metallic gleam to his hide. It’s not the muted look of raw metal, no this hide has the burnished, shining gleam of polished metal, and he revels in his own lustre.

Of course for a dragon of his size it is unsurprising that he lumbers a bit on land, and it’s also understandable that his wings are a little oversized, to compensate for the sheer bulk and muscle mass that this young dragon carries. Landing will never be Thowrath’s strong suit. In fact he will always struggle with it. The Weyr will soon grow used to the loud thumps, which come from the large bronze landing heavily, or perhaps even crashing into something. Like a wall. It happens a lot.

The thing is, under the bulk, the muscle and that bright eyecatching coat, Thowrath is a bit of a sweetheart. That’s not to say he’s a pushover, on quite the contrary he is absolutely capable of bowling someone over with his massive tail or, if he’s feeling unusually vindictive, spraying the blood from his latest feed over the unfortunate victim. No, what makes Thowrath ‘sweet’ is how much he /cares/ about his fellows. His clutchmates will have no stauncher ally, his wingmates will not wish for a loyaler comrade, and Ista will want for no greater champion. He will be there for any of them, through thick and thin, and stand between them and any obstacle. Of course if there are conflicts inside the group he is terribly concerned about it. What does he do? He knows it’s not right that Biffith and Boffeth are fighting, it doesn’t serve the betterment or glory of Ista, but there is no obvious right and wrong! How does he stop it!

Unfortunately this rather simplistic view of the world makes Thowrath rather gullible, easily manipulated. He believes the best in everyone, loves wholeheartedly and trusts implicitly. He cannot comprehend betrayal; he would never do such to his companions, so he cannot even imagine they would do so to him. Why would they? They are brothers in arms!

That being said, Thowrath isn’t all soft and squishy feelings. He has those yes, but he also has a propensity towards being arrogant, cocksure, and disobedient. He isn’t deliberately being a problem, that’s the kicker, he firmly believes he’s doing the right thing, which makes it doubly important to keep Thowrath’s ego in check. Left to his own devices he would try to drag his rider off to fight Thread on his own, or correct his wingleader, accidentally challenging his leadership. He absolutely believes he is right, and his reckless, boundless enthusiasm for fighting thread has to be monitored. Only time will mature Thowrath, as well as the loss of fellows in battle.

In time, he will be a fine leader, a true asset to Ista. Many dragons will respect him, and with a strong rider, they will be a force to be reckoned with. The trick will be making sure that they live long enough to reach their potential.



From the moment he hatches, Domandrath will turn a lot of heads. Love his coloring or hate it, it's hard to argue with the fact that it's attention-grabbing, at least: a base color of deep brown with a slightly reddish tinge, like polished mahogany, overlaid with darker brown brindling all over. When dirty, it may be hard for his rider to tell what to scrub at first, but he'll shine so sleekly and beautifully when wet and clean or freshly-oiled that it will soon be easy to tell if a spot was missed. Though he starts, and will end up, just below average in size for his color, he's obviously well-built – nice and solid without being overly bulky, with a broad back and good wing-strength even early on. He'll be a good steady flier and flamer, exactly as his build implies – overall, a fine example of good dragon breeding.

Perhaps he's aware that he's attractive, because he moves with obvious confidence and is far more graceful than one would expect a brown dragon to be. His moves, even walking on land where some dragons seem awkward, are fluid, and he has a tendency to hold his head back and high, so that his neck curls a little sinuously. His gaze is calm and intent – the sort of gaze that makes one feel as if he's giving his complete, undivided attention to whomever he's looking at.

Some people (and dragons) are just destined to always be right in the middle of trouble. Domandrath is certainly one of those, though not because he's a troublemaker, himself – no, Domandrath sees himself as a peacekeeper, a mediator, an ambassador… and, when that fails, a warrior on the side of good. His clutchmates and later, wingmates, won't be able to have a single argument that he won't push himself right in the middle of, trying to talk them down, hoping to diffuse the situation. If there's a fight – whether it be two drunken riders, or a wild feline attack, or anything else – he won't hesitate to throw himself into danger to get between the combatants. His rider may even find that his dragon won't be able to resist meddling in his love life, should things turn sticky on that front. In fact, he'll likely develop a bit of a reputation as an annoying meddler who can't leave well enough alone. If there's any sort of unpleasantness afoot at all, Domandrath will be there, trying his damndest to unravel the mess that those around him find themselves in… whether they like it or welcome it or not.

He's well-equipped to do it, too. He's patient, thoughtful, level-headed, and a good listener. For a dragon, he has an excellent grasp of the concept of consequences (in fact, he's probably better than a lot of humans!), and he can often see trouble brewing long before his peers will. He's good at finding just the right words, and he's sensitive to the feelings of everyone involved, even those he determines are in the wrong. For that matter, that's probably why he is the way he is — he's an extremely empathetic dragon, very perceptive of the general mood around him, and it makes it almost impossible for him to ignore trouble and the unhappiness it causes. He genuinely enjoys connecting with others, and is far more talkative with other humans than most dragons are. Though unusual for a brown, he might make a good Search dragon someday.

Don't mistake him for a softie, though. Domandrath is not a sweet mother trying to coax her children into good behavior – he is a fighting dragon, bred and hatched to take to the skies to belch fire at mindless parasitic rain, and that doesn't change even when he's dealing with the people and dragons that he loves (and he loves all of them, in one way or another). He hates the ugly things they do to one another, and he won't stand for it. When he pushes himself into a situation, it's with the attitude that he's not just going to step away and leave it be if things get too rough – he's going to fix it, one way or another. He prefers to be gentle, prefers that everyone end up as happy and satisfied as possible, but if he has to pull the rank card, he will. If he has to get rough, he will.

And, no one but his rider may realize it, but if he had to make the hard choice – if someone had to suffer, or die, so that greater suffering might be averted – he would do it in a heartbeat.


Looking at Kolikith the first thing you think is, sleek. And this brown is just that. His hide gleams, rather like his mothers does, but he lacks her metallic hue. Instead his brown hide looks rather like smoothed, organic wood. Bystanders may struggle to describe him, because Kolikith is quite appealing to look at, with all his smooth, flowing lines. There is nothing rough, or unpolished about him in appearance, and his hide reflects that. The only way to describe his shade of brown however would have to be…cool. It’s not a warm mahogany shade, or that rich redwood, no his is that much subtler shade, the expensive, well blended wood.

And he is lovely to look at, graceful, purposeful, with long, elegant limbs and intense stillness about him. He’s engaging, interesting, and worth keeping an eye on, even as people get distracted by the flashier dragons going by. Sure his headknobs are a little funny, all perky and slightly curved backward, and he does have the propensity to mince when he walks, rather than striding like the male dragon he is. Still…it would be unwise to disregard him.

Because if there is one thing Kolikith absolutely /LOATHES/ it’s being disregarded, and quite frankly, he thinks it happens far too often. No, he isn’t one of those big, pushy, idiotic bronzes with their delusions of grandeur, and he claims he totally doesn’t want to be. What he wants is recognition, pure and simple, the recognition of his intelligence and use as a dragon far superior to those…base metal creatures. He sees no reason why they should be favoured above him, he’s smarter, faster and can probably fly circles around those idiots, so why…are they automatically the leaders. It perplexes him, and infuriates as well, and his rider will have difficulty explaining the concept of it to him.

Even so, Kolikith is smart, in that calculating kind of way. Where some may attack a problem head on, Kolikath is a dragon to circle around, murmur a few things to a few people and come at the problem from the side, with a plan fully in place. He would never confront someone head on, that is idiotic, bronze even, he would…whisper things about his enemy behind their back to influenceable people, create a strong base of support, and encourage someone else to go and confront for him. Manipulating people, playing them against one another, is one of Kolikith’s great loves.

One might think this would make Kolikith a serious dragon, one to frown and mutter and brood. In fact that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s a great socialiser, incredibly charming and witty, full of clever innuendo and veiled barbs. Female dragons will often find him quite smooth, intrigued by that mysterious air, and some, along with some blues and even browns may be drawn to his charisma and ability to seduce with his honeyed tongue. He’s also quite mischievous, teasing, playful, prone to little pranks which can go too far, little experiments to see how people will react. And somehow even when he does find himself in a pickle Kolikith soothes everyone with that natural charm, and find a solution to the problem, making it seem insignificant in retrospect, when at the time it looked to be insurmountable. His followers will find him fascinating…and his rivals will find him intensely infuriating.

That’s not to say that he’s a bad dragon, on the contrary he has the capacity to be a very good dragon, it’s just that with every instance of being passed over, every perceived slight, every rejection, Kolikith’s resentment will grow, and the negative side of him will become more pronounced.


Nambrinth's fawn-colored hide is somewhat unusual for a brown dragon, pale tan and very slightly yellow-and-cream-tinged. It appears evenly-colored from a distance, though closer inspection will reveal a small variation in shade: slightly darker down the back fading to slightly paler around the feet. Some may call it plain, but he considers himself a very handsome dragon for his smooth unblemished color — the way a dragon hide /should/ be, he'll tell you — and carries himself with the upright, regal posture of one who has no doubt that he's attractive and important. His face is narrow and angular, with eyes that are slightly more forward-facing than most dragons, and his gaze in unfailingly direct, lending him a rather leonine appearance.

Though ungainly and somewhat big-footed upon first hatching, Nambrinth is a dragon that will rapidly grow into a body built for a good mix of speed and power – lean and sleek, with just enough visible muscle in his shoulders, legs, and chest to let you know he means business. He'll outgrow the worst of his awkwardness on land (or, more likely, learn to compensate for it because he is such a terribly proud dragon), but he'll never be quite as sure-footed as he appears; he'll vastly prefer the sky or sea simply because his lean body and long wings will truly shine there, slicing through air and water alike with ease as he twists, winds, and dives with an ease that few of his brown brothers can match.

Dragons in general tend to be fairly calm creatures, and browns in particular have a reputation for level-headedness and dependability. It would be safe to say, then, that Nambrinth is not your typical brown. He'll always be ruled by passion – his love, his anger, his wants and needs, his joy and his frustration… everything he feels seems to consume him utterly in the moment he feels it. Everyone knows that feeling — that moment when you feel something strongly, when your heart pounds and your muscles clench and your brain burns with pure emotion. Nambrinth just feels it more often than most, and has a lot of trouble turning it off. Anything he feels, he feels strongly, and he's not at all shy or restrained in expressing those feelings aloud or, in some cases, physically. His temper, in particular, is a sight to behold, and as a hatchling he'll have a tendency towards throwing overdramatic temper-tantrums when he doesn't get his way, or when something offends his delicate sensibilities. He's an immensely proud dragon, easily offended, and he can't bear to be corrected or make a mistake or appear foolish, and it'll be a cold, distant day before he admits fault or apologizes. When he courts a female, which he'll do frequently, he'll be all declarations or devotion and macho shows of strength to impress her, and it will be hard to doubt his sincerity because he is absolutely sincere – he really thinks he's in love, and though his draconic memory means he'll eventually forget his loved one and move on to another, each time will seem fresh and new to his aching heart.

Even though his pride and temper may get in the way, all Nambrinth really wants is to be the best he can be. If he insists on putting himself in charge – as he will do nearly every time the opportunity presents itself – it's because he honestly believes he's the dragon best-suited to lead. He may be insufferably arrogant, but he's honest and believes strongly in honor, at least – he'd not step up simply to make himself look better. He is a talented leader in many ways. He'll be especially keen in the air, an excellent tactician, and will have a way of barking orders that makes the reluctant obey without even thinking, but his overconfidence could also cause him to lead others into disaster. Unfortunately for a brown, he'll always be resistant to taking orders himself, which will surely keep him in conflict with his bronze brothers in the wing hierarchy.



Hatched small, and unfortunately staying small his entire life, Arlith will never be a dragon built for strength. In fact, at hatching there may be some initial worries about malnourishment within the egg, but it will soon become apparent that this blue is just meant to be scrawny. His frame is long and skinny, with a deep tuck-up and shoulderblades and hips that shift visibly beneath his hide with every stalking step. His wings are long and thin, his tail whiplike, and his neckridges rather sharp. His face is long and narrow, too, with sharp features – prominent cheekbones and protruding eyeridges that give him a hint of a wizened old man appearance. Only his legs don't really match the rest of him – they're rather short compared to the rest of his body, and when he's young he'll find it hard to keep his wingtips from dragging the ground or tripping his short little legs up. Being short (and feeling clumsy due to his early difficulties) may be something he's self-conscious about for most of his life.

As if to make up for his physical short-comings, however, nature has given him a rather striking hide. He's deep, dark midnight blue all over, almost as dark as a blue dragon can possibly be, save for a pale blue streak on his chin, and another pale blue patch – this one a splotch that resembles a many-pointed (if irregular) star – in the center of his chest.

“Ugly.” “Dud.” Maybe, when he was curled up within his egg, Arlith could hear or sense what was being said about it, and took it to heart about himself. Or maybe he was always meant to be an insecure dragon. Whatever the reason, this blue will always be plagued by something of an inferiority complex. He doesn't feel as handsome as his brothers, as strong, as smart, as brave. He'll always be comparing himself, always striving to match them but unlikely to ever be able to do so – not because he's not really as good, but because he's simply too down on himself to ever really see his own strengths for what they are. His insecurity will set up a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy – because he thinks he's stupid and clumsy, he'll hesitate to act or speak even when he knows exactly what to do, and so others will always seem smarter and more sure to him. Fear of failing may cause him to stumble or mis-speak, which only reinforces his belief in his own inadequacy. It's a shame, too, because he's actually a very smart dragon. One could even argue that his lack of courage stems directly from being intelligent enough to actually think to question his duty as a dragon in a way that other dragons usually don't. He's very aware of how dangerous flying can be, and /betweening/, and flaming, and though he tries hard to hide it simply because his peers don't seem so worried about it, it will take a lot of practice before he truly feels comfortable with any new information or maneuvers. Once he has it down, though, he'll perform well – assuming his rider can keep him from second-guessing himself at critical moments.

Arlith will spend his life overcompensating for his perceived lacks, trying to cover his fear and misery with either a cool, aloof act, or shows of false bravado, neither of which are very convincing. He'll be prone to fits of brooding and depression when he fails at something, and may be prickly and resentful of his more successful peers during these times. Catch him in a good mood, though, when things are going right, and you may find that, underneath his crippling self-esteem issues, he's actually a rather sweet, polite dragon who wouldn't hurt a vtol. Praise him sincerely, and it's like turning on the sun – suddenly he's a new dragon entirely, with bright eyes and clear excitement in his voice and normally-slumped posture.

For a while, anyway.


Blue is a color that most people find pleasing, and blue dragons never seem to disappoint the expectation. There's rich royal blue, pale snowy powder, and bright azure dragons. There are swirls and markings and tiger stripes. And then there's Colstenth: the blue who seems to have forgotten that blues aren't supposed to look boring. At hatching he's unimpressive to most eyes: average in size for his color, rather skinny, with no physical features that really stand out and a hide that's about as plain-jane average-joe as they come: just a dull-looking, medium shade of greyish-blue that seems a bit aged, as if someone left a formerly bright piece of painted metal out for a few turns to fade in the sun. The only marking he has is hardly a marking at all – just an area of faded color on his lower chin and around the tip of his muzzle, of the sort that blues typically don't get until they're much older. If anyone bothers to look closer, his claws are a darker shade of blue in a rather attractive sort of contrast.

As he grows, though, Colstenth will start to develop a bit more physical “personality”. He'll grow rapidly into quite a large blue and fill out nicely, beginning to develop his adult musculature (and mating urges) sooner than the majority of his clutchmates. In fact, he may even surpass his brown brothers for a short while until they catch up and grow past him. As an adult he'll be a sturdy dragon, broad and muscular, and his color will deepen up somewhat, the pale spot on his chin fading even further and spreading to encompass his entire lower face from the mouth down and stretching up over both cheeks to end just beneath his eyes.

Colstenth is the dragon who, when instructed to do something, just gets up off his ass and does it. He doesn't hop-to with childish eagerness, or throw himself out there to be an example – he just does it, because it's his job, and if everybody would just shut up and do their damn jobs, maybe stuff would get done, and there would be some peace and quiet around this place for a change. Is that really so much to ask? All he wants is a little appreciation for a job well done (not much – just a “hey Colstenth, nice work” occasionally, really), a little peace and quiet, a not-too-stringy herdbeast to gorge on when he's hungry, and a little bit of pretty green tail to chase from time to time. A blue's got needs, you know? And if the greens are turned off by his drab looks and brusque mannerisms, well, fuck them and their uppity standards. He's as good as any other dragon. Better, maybe, 'cause he doesn't pretend to be anything that he's not. That has to count for something, right?

Well, it should. Colstenth values honesty. He lives by a pretty simple code (and he'd never actually call it a code, because that sounds fancy and he's not a sharding fancy-ass dragon, and he'll knock you over with his tail if you try to say he is, too): do your job, do it straight-up, and don't fuck shit up. He knows he's not a genius, but he also knows he doesn't have to be – it's flying and spitting fire, how damn smart do you have to be to do the two things you were hatched to do? Okay, he's a bit of a grump even in the best of circumstances, but dragons who try to act like they're better than everyone else really get on his nerves. His bronze and brown peers, especially. So many of them look down their noses at everyone, try to herd them around like everyone else is too stupid to handle themselves… he hates that. It's not that he doesn't understand the need for leadership, he just doesn't think being a leader is a big fancy concept, that's all. You're just supposed to give a little direction when people need it (and if you trained them right in the first place they wouldn't need it so much). He's no leader. He'll say it a thousand times – don't look to him for shit, because he's just there to burn some stuff and he'll watch your back because he's your brother and all, but it's not his job to babysit you.

And yet, somehow, when those around him need direction, he'll end up giving it anyway, like a reluctant father who spends half his time idly considering going out for cigarettes and never coming back, and the other half showing up awkwardly to school plays and parent-teacher meetings because goddamn it, the little bastards looked at him with sad eyes, and if he doesn't care about them, then who will?


Though large for a blue, Fancharth's size is almost all length. He's a lean blue, sleekly-muscled, with long legs, neck, and tail, but while his body may give the impression of awkwardness, it's actually anything but. He's incredibly agile even on the ground, surefooted almost as soon as he hatches, but in the air his true abilities will become apparent as he twists and turns and dodges so smoothly and naturally that his long body seems almost to flow like water. His neckridges are short and rounded, his fingers longer and more dextrous than most dragons, and he'll use them frequently in his manipulation of objects that interest him. His hide is a bright sky blue, with a paler, powdery blue stripe that starts just behind each eye and goes down either side of his neck, ending at the front of his shoulder joint.

From the moment he hatches, Fancharth will be fascinated by the world around him. First the Hatching Sands, then his clutchmates, then the people… on and on his curiosity will expand, the wonder of it only increasing as he begins to realize just how very big the world actually is. For every step he takes, there are a thousand more beyond it, and while some might be frightened by this realization, Fancharth is absolutely invigorated by it. Nothing is too small to escape his notice, no question too stupid to ask. “Why?” and “How?” will be questions his rider (and the Weyrlingmasters) may get thoroughly sick of hearing after the first sevenday, but all the annoyance in the world won't deter Fancharth. He's interested in anything his rider, or anyone else, has to offer him, but in the end words alone aren't enough to give him answers. It will finally occur to him, at some point in his development, that his rider doesn't know everything – that no one does, in fact – and that opinions can be colored by perceptions and vice-versa. No, the truest way to find anything out is to just step right in and find out on his own.

And it's almost alarming how fearless he actually is in his endless pursuit of knowledge. How does flight actually work? Let's jump off this cliff and find out. The Weyrlingmaster says think of your second stomach and chew your firestone? Well, he'll wonder, what happens if I think of my first stomach instead? It doesn't always occur to him that things are done a specific way for a reason – and he tends to be very single-minded when he gets an idea in his head, ignoring everything else until he's able to answer the burning question in his skull.

The problem is, it never ends. Every question only brings more questions. This doesn't daunt Fancharth at all, but it may very well exhaust his poor brain-battered rider. The blue just never stops. It's always something, and Fancharth has trouble keeping his thoughts quiet because he's just so intensely focused all the time. You can tell him a million times that it's impossible to answer ALL the questions, but Fancharth merely wonders if anyone has ever actually tried? He's childlike in his enthusiasm and wonder of the world around him, endlessly good-natured and helpful to anyone who may need him, absolutely brilliant in dragon terms, and has an incredible memory for a dragon… but he can be unintentionally thoughtless sometimes, asking questions that others have the tact not to ask, and taking as little care with the health of others as he does with himself.

His rider will have to be careful, though. If sorrow or pain ever manage to find their way into Fancharth's wondrous little snowglobe of a world (and they may not – he's incredibly oblivious to such things in the face of all the beauty around him), he may shift his attentions from asking ALL the questions to fixing ALL the problems… with potentially disastrous results.


Though a large blue dragon at adulthood, Helvonth is still only a blue – and yet he manages to cast a rather intimidating shadow anyway. He's a rather sharp-looking dragon, literally, with a long, pointed muzzle, somewhat jagged neckridges, razor-sharp talons and long wings that he's prone to snapping open dramatically when about to take flight. He looks like he's made to cut through air like a knife, and he moves that way, too – quickly, effortlessly, with an economy of motion. In contrast to his dangerous looks, his hide is a rather pretty shade of cornflower that blends nicely with the sky on hazy days. A blue-grey streak extends down his spine from his headknobs to just beyond the base of his tail, with a few thin, jagged stripes extending from it down his body on each side like tiger-stripes or lightning bolts that end right about the widest part of his torso.

Helvonth wouldn't call his worldview pessimism, he would call it realism – and, in some ways, he would be right. When it all comes down to it, he was bred and hatched specifically to perform one task not of his choosing: to spend his entire life fighting, risking life and limb day in and day out against a foe he has no hope of actually defeating permanently, on behalf of those not of his species, most of whom he will never meet, and who will never really understand him or his kind. He is less a thinking, feeling creature than he is a tool, a weapon of war no different than the flamethrowers the groundcrews carry upon their backs – the only real difference is that he at least has his rider to comfort and appreciate him. It sounds terribly bleak when put in those terms, but that's how Helvonth describes everything: to him, the world is a dreary place filled out only in shades of grey. It may be bright for other people – somewhere, he suspects – but he is merely an engine of war, and if there are rainbows in his skies, they aren't there for his benefit.

It may sound as if he is unhappy, or longs for something else, but that's just it: he doesn't. Helvonth may see things in a way that sounds terribly depressing to anyone who happens to listen, but he's also reasonably content with his lot in life. This is what he was designed to do, after all. It's lamentable that he doesn't really have any choice in the matter – that he must suffer so that others don't – but he can't deny that he is far better suited for it than those two-legged wingless delicate humans who fear Thread so much. In fact, he's more suited for it than many of his own kind! As a young hatchling he may seem like a bit of a slacking student, dragging himself through his assigned tasks, performing fair enough but in a lackluster sort of way, as if there isn't a drop of enthusiasm in him for a single moment of it… but as soon as aerial maneuvering begins, his true talent will surface. He is a natural in the air, quick and agile, with an amazing instinct for moving just exactly the way he needs to in order to do what he needs to do – whipping around to circle a clump, diving to evade and then coming up underneath. With only a little practice his flame will be deadly accurate, and if his rider is good enough to match him rather than holding him back, the pair will likely be highly sought-after by wingleaders with a good eye for young talent.

Just don't expect him to show any of the unbridled enthusiasm for fighting that many dragons do. War is not romantic or exciting – it is dark and hellish, and he takes no pleasure in it save for the knowledge that his work may spare someone else the horror. Beyond that, Helvonth has no interest in destruction, even of Thread, even though he's clearly a natural at it. He actually has a bit of a poet's soul, which may seem a little startling at first until you realize that it takes a special kind of creativity to be able to see all the darkest corners of the world the way that he does. For one who claims life is so bleak he is certainly talented at coming up with new and beautiful ways to describe all his ugly thoughts, and he never seems to tire of the sound of his own voice. Aside from that, he is typically polite and has a bit of a fondness for children and animals, cherishing them as bright beacons of innocence in a dark world (even as he predicts their inevitable tarnishing), and if his rider ever has children he will no doubt take an interest. He also values honor highly – if he must be an instrument of war, then by Faranth, he will be an honorable warrior, and he'll not tolerate any shady or dishonest behavior on the part of his rider or anyone else he makes acquaintance with. There is already enough ugliness on the battlefield, after all, and those who fight have a responsibility to keep it from leaking out into the world of the bright and innocent.


People often think of blue as cool shade, something calm, something still. Looking at Kabridith’s hide however you wouldn’t think so at all. He’s a myriad of shades, all seemingly bright, eyecatching. Some patches are almost sleek, shiny, others are more textured, but all of them flow together to create a handsome, eyecatching blue. And he is handsome, all strong sleek lines, muscles and not an ounce of excess flesh. The lady greens will find him very appealing, and he knows it. Perfectly in proportion, Kabridith’s form isn’t overly large, nor is he small for a blue. And yet…he does catch your eye…and keep it.

Kabridith wants to be respected, certainly, but brute force isn't his way. Ugh, how could anyone really respect that? He certainly wouldn't. It seems to him that that's all the bronzes and browns really have on him, anyway: they're bigger. That's all. He'll never believe they have any qualities he may lack, or that the qualities they share could possibly be as good as his own. They can't possibly be smarter or more talented than he, and their colors have nothing on his, the poor big ugly beasts. Why, he'd probably pity them, if people didn't obey them anyway despite their glaring handicaps.

No, obedience is nice and all, but it's also the refuge of the small-minded. Kabridith knows better. Better to be admired — admired for his brains, his looks, his culture, his all-around savoir faire. He is rather clever when he doesn't let his own pride get in the way, though perhaps he's not as clever as he thinks he is. And he's certainly handsome, though his vanity may occasionally get the better of his good judgment as he demands to be bathed and oiled before 'Fall, because after all, when one is about to perform and everyone's eyes will be on him (he's certain), that's when ones looks matter the most, yes? As for culture, well, is it really appropriate for a dragon to have such expensive tastes? Should he have such an eye for fashion and color, even though he's rather limited in what he himself can wear? (An injustice he will often rant about.) Should he, once he realizes that the tiny script on tiny hides are much too difficult for him to even begin to learn to read, enjoy being read to so very much? It's not really a bad thing for a dragon to know all the best ballads, is it?

For all his pretentiousness, no one can deny that he can be as smooth as silk when he wants to be. He knows how to turn on the charm, how to turn a phrase, and how to turn even the worst situation to his benefit. He's not malicious at all, but he's self-centered in a way that makes him a bit unmindful of the fact that he might be unintentionally hurting others sometimes – most frequently their feelings, as he's quicker to voice his criticisms in an attempt to sound smarter and more worldly than he is to consider that his observations might be unwelcome. He'll hold his rider, his partner, to a high standard, too, and may show some childish jealousy if they focus on anyone but himself for too long.


Small but well-built, Kerwalth shows a lot of promise, even straight out of the shell. He's well-proportioned, strong but sleek, with just the right balance of muscle for his frame. His face is long and his headknobs even moreso (unusually so), but his cheeks are wide and his muzzle rather roundish at the end, which somewhat softens the effect. His hide is a dark, bold shade of sapphire, with tiny speckles of sky blue sprinkled here and there. They're so small that they don't even show up from any real distance, but up close one can make them out clearly — they're sparse in some areas, and cluster lightly in others, like distant twinkling clusters of stars. If there's a map of the heavens laid out on this blue's hide, it certainly isn't the night sky as it's visible from Pern, though that may not stop people from getting the urge to connect some constellations of their own when walking past him.

If there are those who see the glass half-empty, and those who see the glass half-full, Kerwalth is the dragon who will point out that the glass is always overflowing, because even when it seems empty it's still full of air, and air is wonderful, because how else would he fly, and also breathe?

There's not really much that can get this little dragon down. He can look on the bright side of almost anything, and most of the time he doesn't even really have to try. He just naturally appreciates a lot of the small things that other people often overlook, like how a rainy day can be a bit of a welcome relief, or how being really hungry seems to make the food taste even better when it finally comes. He enjoys nearly every moment of his life, and when the pain and sadness does come, he is forever hopeful that tomorrow will be bright and beautiful again if he can just wait it out. Tomorrow will be better. Surely tomorrow will be better!

If his rider or wingmates are unhappy, he'll always have trouble understanding why. Surely it can't be as bad as they think it is? He doesn't mean to trivialize anyone's pain, but some may see it as exactly that, and resent his hopeful presence. He knows that sometimes things hurt, and that life is scary sometimes, but he really honestly, from the bottom of his little blue heart, believes that things will get better, and he wants all his loved ones to know that so that they'll feel better. He has absolutely no understanding of the idea of catharsis, or a good therapeutic cry, or the thought that sometimes it's good to be angry or sad for a while. No no no, those are awful things, and it hurts his heart to see others in so much pain. Look, the sun is still shining – please don't cry! He knows you lost a wing, but you still have another one – aren't you lucky dragons are hatched with two?

It's sad, in a way, that he does care so much about everyone else. If he didn't, Kerwalth could flit through life as the happiest dragon on the planet, enjoying as much of his life as is possible to enjoy. As it is, once it becomes obvious that not everyone is as happy as he is, he will quickly develop a tendency to worry over, and along with, others. If he's ever sad it will likely be because his rider or a friend are sad, and if he grieves it will be less because he misses the lost loved one (they went between, they're just waiting somewhere far away on the other side!), and more because it hurts him that everyone else is so miserable about it. He'll be the dragon to sit up all night to comfort an injured wingmate, and the one who might just be cajoled into going along with something stupid just because he wants, ever so much, to make someone happy. He just wants everyone to be as happy as he is, and even if people yell at him or tell him to go away, or tell him he's blind or stupid or naive, he'll never stop trying to help. Kerwalth will never lose hope in you… even if you lose hope in him.


Though a smallish blue, the lack of size – not nearly the smallest of his color, but small just the same — somehow seems to fit Larcsforth well. For that matter, everything seems to fit him well. Holding his head high, stepping confidently and deliberately, his good posture and bearing somehow seem to make what flaws he has seem less noticeable. He's not overly-skinny, just slender, all smooth lines without any of the rippling muscle that some dragons sport, and while it's a rather pleasing outline it's obvious that he'll not be a particularly strong or physically tenacious dragon. Quick? Perhaps, though he won't have the wing-strength to really keep up for long. He's light, though, and his wings are broad – he'll be a fine glider and maneuverer, and in time, he'll discover the best way to use the air currents around him to play to his strengths, using them to keep him aloft with as few flaps as possible.

His hide is one of those that turns heads because it has a lot of contrast in it: primarily a light, powdery blue, with points of a much darker, richer shade. The end of his muzzle, tops of his headknobs, his feet, his tail, his wingtips, and the tips of his ridges are all that darker color, as well as some darker shading along his shoulders and up the front of his wing-arms. It all blends smoothly in the transition areas – there's a lot of contrast, but no stark lines.

Larcsforth is a dignified little fellow: calm, composed, and polite; always so polite. To his mind, there's just no excuse for rudeness – no, not in humans and dragons, who are certainly intelligent enough to know how to behave, and how to treat one another. Come now, we're all civilized creatures, aren't we? There's not a thing in the world wrong with expressing oneself, but there's no need to use crass, filthy language, and certainly no call for violence. Unless, of course, it's perpetrated upon you, first. He may prefer that everyone just sit down for a spot of tea rather than raise a ruckus, but if he feels he must, he won't hesitate to step up and argue or defend his own (or a lady's) honor. Some insults can be cheerfully ignored, but others are just too dire to allow him to turn the other cheek. Some behaviors just aren't acceptable. He might have a tongue that can sell ice to a High Reachean, but you'll never catch him lying to get what he wants. No, he believes it's a dragon's duty to deal honestly and fairly with those around him, because trust is something that simply can't be bought.

He's a rather happy dragon without being loud or hyper about it at all. It's hard to really say what it is about him that makes you imagine him sitting there smiling quietly all the time. Can you hear a smile in a voice? Perhaps that's it, but then, there are a lot of rather nice things about his rich mindvoice and carefully-enunciated words if you happen to be lucky enough to hear it. He breezes through his life quite happily, almost always good-natured and affable with his comrades-in-arms, and even when one of them does do something to offend him, he's always willing to forgive and forget so long as the other party either apologizes honestly, settles the debt, or at the very least is willing to call a “let's agree to disagree” truce and then behaves honorably afterward. He enjoys helping his fellows, and is just full of advice that he believes is sage. Whether it actually is or not may just be up for debate, but no one can deny that it's always given with the best of intentions (though it's also frequently given to people who haven't necessarily asked for it nor wanted it).

He may have a strong set of values and standards of behavior, but that doesn't mean he lets them cage him in or repress him. That sort of behavior comes as naturally to him as breathing (indeed, he was hatched this way, wasn't he?), and he doesn't allow much else to concern him. In fact, his instructors, and later his wingleaders, may find Larcsforth to be a rather lackadaisical sort. He isn't actually lazy, and will perform every task asked of him, but he does it with the air of someone who doesn't appear to be overly concerned about getting it done well or on time. Usually it is performed to standard, and in a reasonably timely manner, but that doesn't change the infuriating fact that he just doesn't seem to have any sort of drive or urgency in him at all.


Obviously a big, hefty, hearty blue from the moment he breaks shell into the world, Tanikith won't be one to give the dragonhealers any cause for worry. Both tall and broad for his color, he already shows hints of the massively muscular blue that he'll develop into in only a short turn or so. A thick neck, deep chest, and powerful shoulders will make him a good strong flier and flamer, and though his waist and hindquarters taper down just enough to make him look a bit top-heavy when viewed from the side, it obviously isn't enough to impact his movement – his back legs are just as powerful as the front, and his wing-muscles bulge with strength. He's a fairly even, bright azure over most of his body, with a dark sapphire muzzle that narrows into a blaze that goes right up between his eyes and flares again to encompass both curiously erect headknobs, stopping just behind them.

Tanikith will no doubt be one of those dragons who's among the first to do everything. Not because he's exceptionally talented, but simply because he doesn't seem to have any understanding of the concept of caution, and throws himself straight into everything without pausing for even a second to think about what he's doing.

His general mode of operations goes something like this:
1) See the thing that needs doing.
2) Throw himself at the thing, literally, until it's done.
3) Cheerfully say You're welcome! as everyone in the immediate vicinity cries in gratitude (or is that despair?) amidst the collateral damage.

No matter how big or old he gets, Tanikith will always be something like a child – full of energy and endless enthusiasm, completely undeterred by temporary setbacks, and rather simple in his understanding of, and appreciation of, the world around him. And, like a child, he seems to think he's invincible. The thought that he might get hurt, or that he can die, never even crosses his mind. It probably helps that he has an amazing pain tolerance or perhaps just an exceptionally thick hide, and a short memory even for a dragon, but it may be a nightmare for his rider, who will have to stay alert for that moment when he feels Tanikith begin to get excited about something just the same way a parent has to stay alert for the moment when a toddler runs off out of sight. No, Tanikith is not particularly intelligent. But he's happy, he's honest, he's completely open – he has no secrets or hidden facets to his personality. He's exactly as he appears upon first meeting: very pleased to meet you, let's be friends, and OH LOOK, SHINY!

Needless to say, he doesn't have much of an attention span, but that doesn't mean that he'll ever completely forget that he promised to help you with something. No, he'll never forget a friend! If there's one thing he loves more than anything, it's helping, and there's nothing he won't do if he thinks he's helping someone in some way. Sometimes he may be a bit… well, mistaken about how much he's actually helping (the kitchens are not likely to appreciate his efforts to slaughter a herdbeast for their feast, for instance), but he always, always means well. There's not a mean or spiteful bone in his big body, and he may have trouble understanding how he's upset someone. He was just helping!


A big, sturdy blue at hatching, Vondruth will only get even larger, proportionately, as he grows, eventually ending up as one of the largest blues at Ista. He's strong and solid, but his muscles are tight and economical, only exactly what he needs – he's not so hampered by bulk that it impacts his speed or agility overmuch, and the result is a blue who's very versatile, able to fill the spot of a small brown, or hold a solid point among the smaller dragons, or zip around for a while like most of his blue brothers. His neck is short, his head large and his nose rather blunt, eyeridges tilted slightly up at the back to give him a rather forbidding stare. His hide is a solid, bold royal blue, with no crazy patterns or lines to be found anywhere. Which is just how he likes it.

Vondruth is very well aware that he's equipped to succeed: he's smart, he's strong and built in a way that can make him very useful for a blue, and he has a special knack for applying his knowledge in practical ways to get what he wants. Distracting everyone so he can have an extra helping of meat, for example, or provoking a rival male into making a mistake. The problem is, he's not much of a team player. He's fiercely independent, determined to do things himself, with no help from anyone, and only on his timetable and on his terms. After all, who else can he trust to do things right? No one else is as intelligent or capable as he is, and Vondruth knows very well that a fighting dragon can't afford to screw up. People, dragons, crops… everything dies when a dragon screws up, and while he doesn't really have any emotional attachment to any of those things (strongly dislikes most of the people and dragons he meets, actually), he does have an attachment to doing his job right and better than anyone else. Not for the sake of others, but for his own sake, because what sort of dragon would he be if he couldn't fight?

He looks around him and all he sees are idiots – clutchmates that are pathetically weak, or who spend all their time fooling around like hatchlings, or grown dragons who spend their time lazing around while their riders jack off somewhere. At the best of times, the perceived foibles of those around him are a minor annoyance. At the worst of times, they actively offend him, and he has an incredible vocabulary, excellent diction, and a flair for the dramatic, all of which he can turn towards telling others exactly what he thinks of them, and the many different ways they've failed, and exactly how he's going to do things right because they clearly can't. He believes he's the best, true, but he can't stand to hold that honor simply by default because everyone else doesn't even bother to try – and he sure as shells doesn't plan on getting his tail scored because the dragon who's supposed to be covering behind him was sucking his own tail-fork on the day they were supposed to be learning how to flame. Pathetic peons. If he were in charge everything would be better, he's sure, but then, an artist is only as good as his tools, and the tools in this case would all be blunt.

He and his rider may have trouble with their bond. It isn't that Vondruth doesn't love his rider – he does — but he's not a dragon who opens up or shares very well. He claims not to have deep feelings about anything, and may dismiss his own rider's deep feelings as a waste of time – after all, he chose who he chose for a reason, so the potential for greatness must be there, and whining and relationships (ugh, human spit-swapping!) and stupid mental hang-ups are only distractions. Loving his rider and obeying him are two different things, and if his rider isn't of a like mind to what the willful blue wants to do, Vondruth may just very carefully keep his intentions a secret. In fact, he'll tend to keep a lot of secrets, just to be better safe than sorry. If his rider isn't careful, they may turn into a pair where the right hand isn't aware of what the left is doing.



If you thought her egg was bright, wait until you see Beaspyth. She practically smacks you in the face with colour, her hide a bright, lime green shade that is almost garish next to some of her more muted siblings. She’s almost fluro in her eye-catching glory, drawing attention wherever she goes with sheer searing colour. To make her even more noticeable she has spots, patches of green so dark it’s almost black, splotched here and there across her hide. They are large areas, but there aren’t many of them, and there is no blurring between. These colours are separate and bold lines are maintained.

Other than the colour Beaspyth is no great beauty. She’s rather average really, a little small in size and with her body all proportioned. She’s not really muscled, tending to be more fleshed out. She’s a healthy young green, not overly strong, but she’s got some meat on her still. She’s not about to blow over, that’s for sure.

As if her hide wasn’t attention grabbing enough, Beaspyth is hopelessly addicted to the dramatics. Every misfortune is a grand drama, every success warrants a huge celebration, every altercation an epic battle between good and evil. She’s a very expressive dragon, making sure everyone in the vicinity is aware of the tale being played out before their eyes. Her clutchmates and then her wingmates are her fellow cast, the Weyr is her stage and really once Beaspyth gets going, stopping her becomes increasingly difficult.

For all her dramatisising however, this little green has plenty of pluck. She’s a big damn hero thank you very much and if anyone tries to throw their bullying weight around, or look down at someone, she is going to charge right in and defend the hapless sod with all her gusto. The same goes with threadfighting, she is an extremely talented flier, and is absolutely dedicated to the cause. She will probably drive her rider mad with her insistence on safety, strap maintenance and equipment checking. No way is she letting her celebrated career end because of faulty equipment. I mean…that is just embarrassing…am I right?

When on her own, Beaspyth imagines her future battles, sometimes even re-enacting them, without taking off of course. They are epic contests, good conquers, evil is vanquished, and she reigns supreme. These little encounters are probably vastly entertaining to her fellows, and worth watching.

However Beaspyth’s dedication to threadfighting ends at…well…threadfighting. Drills she will be lacklustre at, and won’t put effort in at all. Classes during Weyrlinghood…she’d much rather sleep now…wake her up when the fun stuff starts will you? Beaspyth is the poster child for the dragon who does what she wants, when she wants to. Otherwise…well…good luck trying to get her to work properly. She’ll just be up on the Rim, or on the beach…snoozing.

And if all that wasn’t enough Beaspyth tops off her high maintenance sundae with a healthy dollop of sass. She’ll answer back, bicker, tease, retort…you name it and she’ll do it, just to be difficult. Her rider will be hard pressed restraining her habit of mimicking instructors or superiors when giving instructions. She’ll imitate their stance, their gestures, and generally be rather rude. When she mocks, she is snarky, imitating sanctimonious classmates with superb mimicry. She’ll get their inflections, their gestures down, a perfect imitation. If only she would put as much effort into working!

In all, Beaspyth’s rider will be hard pressed to keep a tight rein on this feisty…and dramatic little green.


From the moment she steps from her egg, it's obvious that Chamralth is going to be a beauty of a green. Overall, she's small but not tiny, with a nice form that won't need to shift much as she grows – she's not quite delicate, exactly, or even what you'd call sleek, but she's muscled in all the right places, with just enough flesh to give just the right smooth curves. Her face has just a bit of that roundness to it, too, a soft curve to her cheeks and muzzle that make it seem a bit friendlier and more inviting than those dragons with more harsh features. She has a way of curving her neck, cocking her head just-so, so that her big eyes seem more innocent and adorable. A hide of brilliant jade, which pales somewhat down her throat and underbelly, contrasts beautifully with shimmering dark emerald wingsails and neckridges. Her hocks constrast sharply in the other direction, painted a pale, almost icey green-white, only to give way to feet and dainty claws of emerald once more.

It's a little unfair that Chamralth is so pretty. Oh, there's nothing wrong with being pretty in and of itself, no, or anything wrong with knowing it, or even anything inherently wrong with knowing how to use it. The problem is that Chamralth uses it for all the wrong reasons. After all, why should she expend any effort to do anything she doesn't want to do, when there's always someone else ready and willing to do it for her? She'll discover early on that all she has to to is bat her pretty little eyes at the right person (and she'll have the instincts of a shark when it comes to homing in on just the right one), say just the right sweet words, and she can have almost anything she wants. And she wants a lot of things. Not all at once, exactly. She's ambitious in a vague sort of way; she doesn't really think or plan ahead, there's no specific goal in mind, she just wants better. A warmer sunning spot than this one. A bigger weyr. That pretty rock that she saw down by the beach. What does she plan on doing with it, exactly? Well, that doesn't matter – what matters (she'll say with a little stamp of her foot) is that she wants it.

It's unfortunate that she seems able to focus so intently on what she wants – that she'll put so much effort into getting it (or, more accurately, put five minutes into coaxing someone into getting it for her, but then five minutes is an eternity and a lot of effort in Chamralth's skewed perception), because it'll be like pulling teeth to get her to put any real effort into anything else. It isn't really that Chamralth is lazy. When she's honestly excited by and engaged by something she'll hop right up and go for it with gusto. The problem is that it's tricky to get her actually interested in anything resembling work. She's not the most intelligent green, and perhaps she knows that, too – her memory is particularly poor, and lessons and drills may be a struggle for her… so she would rather just not do them than to try and fail. It's easier to just focus on pretty things, to do what she's actually good at, and avoid the things that she may be lacking in, than it is to take a chance.

Her sweet personality, at least, isn't all an act. She may be a bit self-centered, much the same way that a child is, from time to time, and her short-sightedness may occasionally cause her to be stubborn or even have little fits, but she's quite a brave dragon when it really matters. She's fiercely protective of her friends, and no one will ever expect Chamralth, of all dragons, to jump up out of nowhere with teeth and claws bared if someone insults or threatens someone she loves. She's very social and very friendly most of the time, and she's not selfish with the things she obtains – in fact, she'll gladly give her neighbor her old shiny rock as soon as she obtains a new one. (Poor ugly neighbor – he could use something attractive in his life. Such is Chamralth's charity.)


If the classic perception of a green is of a dragon that's like a racing runner, sleek and speedy, then Igribith is more of a plowhorse, big and strong and about equally as aerodynamic. She's tall enough to look down at most of her sisters, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, a neck corded thickly with muscle, and wide, powerful flanks. On the ground she doesn't walk, she thunders, her overly-large feet taking heavy clomping steps that make her whole body sway, and in the air she powers her way around like the flying tank she is, bullying her way through the sky as if she has to fight the air itself for every inch. Her hide is the dark dull green color you'd find on the needles of fir trees, with slightly paler dappling across her shoulders and flanks that's really only apparent when you look closely or when the light hits it just right. Each foot has an even deeper, darker green sock, and a helmet of the same color covers her headknobs and the top of her head, curling down behind her eyes and over her cheeks, stopping right at the base of her skull.

Built like a brick house as she is, it's probably no surprise that she's a very physical dragon, and while half her touches and casual brushes are probably accidental just because she sometimes seems to forget how much space she takes up, she's also the first dragon to reach her neck out to nudge with her muzzle, or spread a wing over another, or, if she's annoyed, just throw her body around to shove past someone else. As a hatchling she'll love to wrestle, and she'll keep right on doing it into adulthood if she can find willing dragons.

Dealing with Igribith is about the same as wrestling with her physically would be — that is, about like wrestling a big mama bear. Her presence is as over-inflated on a mental and emotional level as it is on a physical one. She's loud and boisterous: her mindvoice booms in your head, not so much like she's yelling at you but more as if she's just speaking very loudly right up in your face, and it tends to make one feel as if she's invading personal space even if she's speaking from across the Weyr. When she's enthusiastic about something she barrels headlong into it like a freight train; when she's not, she can dig her proverbial heels in and quite suddenly turn into an immoveable object. That stubborn streak is strong in her, and she's often loathe to ask for help when she needs it, even though she's quick to offer her assistance to others whether they need it or not. With her green sisters (and anyone else who will allow her to be), she can be rather overbearing, and doesn't realize that her help and advice sometimes comes across as bullying, or that her considerable presence is not always welcome in every place that she swaggers it into.

Her mating flights will be loud, raucous affairs that she seems to treat more like half-party, half-sport rather than the passionate competition that it's supposed to be. She's always delighted to fly, and will shout her encouragement to her chasers, willing them to join her and have as much fun pushing their limits in their pursuit of her as she has in her flight.


From the moment she breaks her shell and steps into the world, it’s obvious to everyone that here is a beautiful little green. Not only is she beautifully formed, with long curving, almost sensual lines, she moves gracefully as well, drawing peoples gazes to her almost without trying. If there were an ideal shape for a female dragon, Ivaripeth would certainly come pretty damn close, and she knows it. Her hide is smooth, sleek, with a shine to it that brings it to glowing in the sunlight. She has long tendrils of darker green curling all around her form, but they are subtle, accents enhancing the natural curvature of her shape. The rest of her hide is a mix of different lighter shades, so varied and so well meshed that she seems almost to glimmer as she moves. And when she does move, it’s with that prowling grace. Such beauty demands to be admired.

The thing about Ivaripeth is that there is more to this little green than simply good looks. She’s also smart for her colour, opinionated, and has perhaps inherited some of her mothers disdain for male dragons. This green will likely never struggle in her classes, at least not the ones about book learning, picking up concepts and tactics and remembering them with precision. She’s sharp for a green, but she’s not perfect, and sometimes may struggle with the physical application of her learning. Translating what she knows should happen from her mind, to what actually does happen in the air, will be Ivaripeth’s biggest challenge, and will cause her the greatest amount of distress and anger.

Passionate Ivaripeth is, full of mercurial qualities and extreme emotions, fluctuating from rage to intense sadness. She feels things keenly, especially failure, and her rider will have a job on their hands to try and keep this little green on the level. Failure will be greeted with despair or frustration, which will quickly turn to fury and anger should someone point out her blunder, or laugh at her for it. She intensely hates, and she intensely loves, and it is very hard to sway her when her emotions are set. That being said, she does have a certain disdain for some of the more gullible males. Ones that pant after her, or do whatever she wants are dismissed as weak, although sometimes useful. Males who reject her become enemies…which leaves a very small window for prospective mates. She respects other female dragons somewhat, although she has little time for dragons that have no backbone. Spirit, that’s what Ivaripeth respects. Males are just so….OBVIOUS.

If there is one thing Ivaripeth loves, besides her chosen rider of course, it’s nature. When the dragons curl up on the beaches after swimming, Ivaripeth will curl up near the forests edge, close to the greenery. She will also love watching the master farmers, and the woodworkers, often watching them with fascination. She wants to know everything there is to know about gardening, about farming, about the woodcraft, and she will push her rider towards knowing these skills too. It’s likely she will encourage her rider to have a little garden of their own, that she can watch over lovingly. Some dragons just need a hobby, and apparently this…is Ivaripeth’s.


How many different shades of pastel green are there? Well to answer that question you need only look at Nimitith’s hide. She is a smooth mix of all those different shades, all blended together smoothly so it’s hard to see where one ends and another begins, despite them being different colours. She will always be a small green, slender and athletic. She holds herself very erect, but those moments when she is still are few and far between. She’s always moving, investigating and nosing around. She is in complete proportion, a perfect little green, apart from one small quirk; her headknobs have a bit of a curl to them.

Ah the spirit of adventure! Nimitith has it, and has it in spades. From the moment she hatches she will be curious and investigative, nosing around the other eggs and hatchlings. The thing is, this little dragon is a smart one, just not in that bookish sense. No she’s street smart, savvy about people and just what their intentions are. She’s quick to realise just when someone is pulling the wool over her eyes, and has good instincts to know just when something isn’t quite right.

She is a naturally happy dragon, generally leaning towards positivity. You’d be unlikely to ever find her indulging in maudlin thoughts, or bemoaning anything. No Nimitith would take the situation at hand and look for a positive, a way to turn the negatives going on into good things, things to work for her. She greets everyone cheerfully, be they rider, dragon or candidate alike, and she enthusiastically loves to swim.

Nimitith is also a very social dragon, and will be drawn to the strangest personalities. You might expect her to stick to the safer people, chill out with the normal dragons, but you would be wrong. She loves the broken people, the people with scars and quirks and odd behaviours. She loves people who aren’t perfect, who others see as odd, and she showers them with her loyalty and affection. Once Nimitith is your friend, you can be sure, you’ll never be alone again.


Against some of her more, flashier, siblings Quinharth may well fade into obscurity. That’s not to say she’s not appealing. In fact when you look at her, she is a lovely specimen of young green, well formed, well shaped, well built. She’s just not that bold, flashing beauty. And sometimes…that is lovely all in itself. She is a dragon of bold colours and lines, her shape quartered with light and dark shades of green. It’s hardly flashy, but it is distinctive, everyone will know exactly who she is as she moves through the Weyr, and that…that is enough for her. She’ll never be a large green, but she will certainly grow large enough to pull her weight in a wing. She’ll also not be one of those bony greens. Oh no, this is a /green/ a /female/. Sure she may not be voluptuous but she’s feminine. Of that you can be sure.

Greens have a reputation for being a bit ditzy, hormonal and flighty and at first glance Quinharth might be mistaken for exactly that. In truth however, she is far from stereotypical. She is a mercurial dragon, that is for sure, full of passion. She will argue, she will fight, she will shriek at the top of her lungs about her opinions, And often those opinions will actually have basis in fact. Because despite her wildly oscilating emotions, this little green does have a brain. The kind of intelligence that sees the heart of a matter. However those brains are not going to stop her from having a damn good time! She will fix whatever problems come from that when they come around, and not a moment too soon. And she is VERY good at sliding out of problems.

The biggest problem is Quinharth’s obsessive personality. She is trusting, and easily manipulated, with plays on empathy and sympathy being particularly effective. She gravitates to dominant personalities, following them with a particular fixation. She will in particular latch on a male dragon, one that pays her the kind of attention she craves, that she believes /needs/ her. Who will love him better than her? It will take a lot for her affections to wane, but when they have…it’s only a matter of time before another obsessive love. And it is obsessive. Everything she will do will be to help the object of her affections. She will help them in drills, support them, and even foul up to detract from their own faults. Similarly with her friends, she will help them even to her own detriment. She is completely loyal…in a fixated kind of way.

But she’s really quite a nice green, somewhere underneath that. She craves love and affection, and her rider will be an incredible balm to all those rough edges. She’s playful, always joking and playing, bouncing and causing happy chaos. Her riders happiness will mean the world to her, their love, worth more than anything.

Finally she is incredibly athletic, graceful in the air and capable of amazing aerial acrobatics. She will be one of those greens able to get those really tough tangles of thread, and this prowess will fill her with pride. She will dedicate herself to it, seeing it as her calling card, her path to acceptance and love.

Her rider will have their work cut out for them to keep her wild ways in check. But the ride will never be dull.


Some dragons can wear a mottled hide well. Thiprith… doesn't really wear anything well. There's nothing subtle about her coloring at all. It's as if her hide doesn't really know what shade of green it's supposed to be – there's a big patch of lime green here on the front left of her chest and wrapping around her shoulder, but then there's a small light green patch right beside it, and then there's grass green on the other side, and so on and so forth all over her body. There isn't a huge variation in shade between all these patches – you may be able to pick out two dozen different shades of green in there, but none of them are extremely light or extremely dark – but there doesn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to them, either. They're all different sizes and shapes, as if she was slapped together haphazardly, like a beginner's attempt at a patchwork quilt. The only thing that looks even remotely orderly on her are the dark green half-circles just beneath each eye, but even those seem almost offensive for interrupting the disorderliness with their perfection. She's a leggy green, tall and thin and a bit bony, with a sharp-featured face and just a hint of a dewlap beneath her chin.

Thiprith is something of an old soul. She'll hatch into the world like someone who's already been around the block a time or ten, with none of the childlike wonderment of many of her peers – nothing is really impressive to her, and it will take a lot to shake her out of her jaded boredom. She doesn't put much stock in tradition, and “because this is the way we've always done it” or “because I said so” are not adequate reasons for something in her bored eyes. If that holder is yelling at her rider, why can't she just spit some flame at him, just to shut him up? If her rider thinks the wingleader is talking too much, why not just say so? Thiprith certainly doesn't have any brain-to-mouth filter, and she doesn't understand why anyone else would, either. Secrets are stupid, tact is even stupider – it's just another way of lying, anyway. She'll say whatever she feels like, and honestly doesn't care if she hurts someone's feelings. Well, it's not her fault that they're so sensitive. She's not sensitive at all. She can weather the harshest lecture with nothing more than a sigh and a bored expression, and there hasn't been a word invented yet that she'll take actual offense to. Words are words, and they're either lies, which don't mean anything to her, or the truth, which is… well, the truth, so why get all worked up about it?

That unflappability may be her greatest asset in 'Fall. She'll take herself into the skies with the attitude that she's already done it a thousand times, even when it's only her first or second time, and even when Thread and the weather surprise her, she'll rarely actually react like someone who's been surprised. She's a solid, steady green… when she decides she feels like following orders, that is. Her self-confidence and tendency to be critical of her superiors will occasionally lead her to question their judgment – or, more accurately, just ignore it completely and do what she wants to do, instead. She'll have a million reasons why the leader in question is an idiot (even when he most certainly is not), but it really usually just comes down to Thiprith wanting to do what she wants to do. She values her freedom highly, and almost pities the gold dragons, who are practically chained to the Hatching Sands for so long. Her rider may have to struggle with getting Thiprith to go where she's supposed to be if she doesn't feel like being there. A nap may be more attractive to her than drills, for instance, or sometimes she'll be stubborn just to prove a point – the point being, “you're not the boss a' me!”

She doesn't think much of manners, either. Why be fancy? She's rude and crude about everything, from her casual posture to her sloppy eating to her loose language. If she Impresses to someone who knows a few good curse words, you can be sure she'll pick them right up and use them at every opportunity. She won't be the slightest bit nervous about, or secretive about, mating, either – in fact, mating flights may be the only thing she's outwardly enthusiastic about, and she'll tell you outright that it's not even really the sex that she likes. She just enjoys knowing she's leading a bunch of hopeless morons around by their dicks.


Though her hide is a beautiful, eye-catching shade of emerald green, as a hatchling Wuffryth is not in the most ideal shape for a fighting dragon. She's small and round, chubby with baby fat, with short legs and stubby-looking little wings that she'll wiggle enthusiastically when she's excited about something. Her face will seem too round, her neck too short, and she may call to mind the image of a plump, happy little bird – adorable, but no threat by any stretch of the imagination. That little body is as awkward as it feels at first, too. Her step will have a bit of a waddle to it, and she'll have trouble keeping up with her siblings; her rider may worry, for a while, that she'll never be able to flap those little wings enough to take to the air with any sort of agility or grace.

As she grows, though, she'll be one of those who really undergoes a metamorphosis. She'll shed that baby fat and tone up to solid strength. Those wings and legs and neck will grow long and sure. Even her chubby little face will even out, her snout lengthening into graceful elegance. By the time she's full grown, it will be hard to believe she's the same dragon at all. While she'll always be small, she'll be a beautiful example of a swift-strike green, with enough speed and agility to perform any maneuver her wingleader may ask of her.

Wuffryth just wants to be a good dragon, that's all. Dragons are hatched knowing their duty, and maybe the problem is that, in searching for a solid direction, she clings to that and takes it a step too far. Whatever the reason, Wuffryth has a very lofty idea of what makes a dragon “good”, and she has a deep need to always know that she's behaving properly. As a hatchling, she'll listen brightly in class, eager to learn, and she'll take every single word said to heart, trusting implicitly in the knowledge of her rider and instructors. She'll try so very hard to do exactly what they say, to the point that she'll have trouble understanding instructions that aren't incredibly specific, and may freeze up when faced with thinking for herself. What if she chooses wrong? What if she does something bad?

Unfortunately, it's hard to be good, especially for Wuffryth. There's a part of her that will always want to be a little wild. She naturally has a lot of energy anyway, and underneath her goody-two-shoes exterior is a wild girl who wishes she could care as little as some other dragons seem to. She wants to jump in the mud, and splash water at people, and run in circles around the Weyrbowl, and bugle at the top of her little lungs, and ditch drills to go out chasing sheep… but… but, that's all so bad! She's a little bit afraid of that happy little dragon inside herself, that side of her that she can't always control. There will be times when she just can't, and that wild side of her personality shows itself, when she can't hold back from leaping and bounding for joy or spitting a little fire (figuratively) when she gets mad. These moments will feel wonderful and liberating to her as they're happening, but afterwards when she realizes she's misbehaved, she'll be absolutely mortified with herself. She'll expect everyone to be angry with her, and she may never realize that she's far harder on herself than most others will ever be, or that her standard of “good” goes far above and beyond what most of her leaders expect of her.

After all, she expects the same out of everyone else! And for all that she's mostly a rather sweet dragon, she can occasionally be judgmental and contemptuous of “bad” dragons who don't act as they should. She tries so hard to behave, and it's frustrating when others don't do the same and never ever seem to suffer for it. She's sure they will someday. She doesn't wish ill on them but, well, when it happens, they better remember that Wuffryth told them so! She may in fact become a thorn in the side of her friends, because she'll prod them relentlessly to do the right thing just to keep the ones she loves most from suffering the same dire Thread-eaten fate as she's sure will fall upon the undiligent.

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