Character type: Glorious Powerpartner
Rank: One ½ of a Glorious Powercouple
Age: 37
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Yes


A’lund is a tall man, broad and muscular enough to have substance and definition without quite tipping over into bulk. He’s long-limbed to match his long frame, large-handed, but what may have turned out awkward for some is carried with ease and confidence by A’lund: this is his body, and he’s perfectly comfortable with and capable of using it, thanks.

His face is long, his olive skin smooth and clear, but his jaw is square, cheekbones high, with a long, prominent aquiline nose; it’s a solid face, not sharp despite the pronounced bone structure, with an almost leonine quality to it. His eyes, deep-set and hooded, are a bright, arresting green, and he uses them to great effect: he’s very aware that he’s been gifted with eyes that people will notice if he uses them properly, and that awareness alone gives his gaze an extra confidence, particularly when he thinks to put effort into it. His hair, a deep, smoky dark brown, is thick, long enough to hang in his face if he lets it, but he tames it back; he doesn’t slick it, but combs it that way, and finger-combs it out of habit throughout the day as needed. It moves, it ruffles in the wind, and sometimes it does find its way back into his face, but, well, that’s the price he’s chosen to pay for wearing his hair the way he wants it. His sideburns stop about midway down the ear, squared off rather than angled, and in the back the hair at the nape of his neck just tickles at his shirt collar.

He’s a man who dresses well. Not stiffly, not awkwardly formal, but well, in ways that are fashionable and flatter his frame and coloring. It’s a necessity, really, given that clothes don’t usually fit a build like his very well unless he has them carefully tailored (in his younger days, before he could pay a premium for his wardrobe, everything either fit too tight around the shoulders and chest while hanging loose everywhere else, or the arms/legs were too short for his long limbs). He knows very well that people, no matter how well-intended, respond to appearances and make snap judgments based on them, and rather than lament this fact, he takes advantage of it to project the image he wants to project: that is, that he’s skilled, professional, and has all his (and maybe your) ducks in a row.


A’lund lacks perspective, perhaps — he tends to view everyone through the lens of his own life, hold them to his standards, and doesn’t really have any understanding of or sympathy for other circumstances. He wasn’t born anyone special, after all (of course he doesn’t really understand that being weyrborn at all is incredibly special compared to most Pernese), and he still managed to make something of himself. So if he can, anyone can, clearly. He’ll acknowledge that Impressing bronze helped, but he’s not willing to give credit for his own success to his dragon, of all things. His dragon didn’t make him popular at Telgar, after all — he made himself popular… and dangerous. A’lund is very much a man who believes in his own power and effort, and it makes him particularly proactive — if he wants something, he figures out a way to get it eventually. There’s not a lot you can do to influence dragon choice at mating time, perhaps, but if you want a promotion you can either be a good boy, do your best, and hope that circumstance throws you a chance to prove yourself at your job… or you can make certain you get noticed, make certain that your name and face are out there, and that the right people have positive feelings associated with you when a position comes open. You do what you can.

Being social is a tool in many ways, but it’s also a need that he has. As an extrovert, A’lund feels most alive when he’s with other people, interacting and sharing experiences. He honestly enjoys hosting, planning, making sure that things go smoothly. He’s a talker, well-spoken, witty when he needs to be, and well-versed in social graces. Speaking comes naturally to him but it’s also a thing that he has put effort into learning to do well. His voice is deep and tends to draw attention without needing to get loud, and he enunciates clearly and talks with his hands for emphasis and energy. He prides himself on his ability to read people and situations, and then slide in seamlessly and steer things where he wants them to go if necessary. He loves a good-spirited debate. He’s very physical, too, in both a casual and deliberate sense — he touches people he’s talking to, isn’t intimidated by going in for a handshake or even a hug where appropriate, and while it’s partially for his own pleasure and comfort, it’s also something that gives him a sense of power over people. It establishes the relationship on his terms, sometimes reveals things about people, and some people are outright intimidated by unrestrained physicality. Interaction, both verbal and physical, are essential to him: it’s all very exciting to him, invigorating, and if he doesn’t get enough of this socialization, he can get bored and even a little depressed and irritable.

For all his social graces, in fact, when A’lund is irritable about something, or downright angry, he doesn’t hide it very well. In fact, he doesn’t even try. Why should he? He’s a self-confident man, he’s confident in his opinions, and he’s not ashamed of feeling what he feels, or afraid to let you know it. That’s not to say he’s a hothead, because he’s not — he’s an adult, thanks, and capable of responding in a way that’s appropriate for the situation, but knowing not to tableflip over an insult at a party isn’t the same as keeping your emotions tightly under wraps. He’s passionate, he feels things strongly, and if you’ve insulted him, he’s going to let you know it. Immediately whenever possible, but if that’s not socially acceptable, then… wait for it. It’ll happen. He’s not just going to sit and stew, he’s going to hunt you down and call you on your bullshit.

Common Knowledge


Birthdate: 416.05.27
Birthplace: Telgar Weyr

A’lund was born Arlund, a Telgar bluerider’s son, nursed and weaned by his mother, and then promptly handed off into the capable arms of a fostermother. His parents were only marginal factors in his life; his father, in particular, never went much farther than occasionally nodding to him when they passed in a hallway, though his mother did peek in on him from time to time. He was closer to his fostermum, and his sibs and friends, and grew up happily and uneventfully. As a youngster he was relatively average: well-adjusted, decently capable but nothing noteworthy or outstanding, but as often happens as children grow and develop and begin to shape into who they are, Arlund really hit his stride around puberty. “Happy” and “well-adjusted” translated into “confident”, “outgoing”, and “social” in his case — helped along by the fact that he was rapidly developing into an attractive young man. Within a couple of turns of entering the Candidate Barracks he was moving in the popular circles largely comprised of older boys and girls (perhaps helped along by the fact that he grew early and rapidly and was often mistaken for older than he actually was in those days).

His dragon was slow in coming, however. Friends aged out, Impressed, or occasionally dropped out. New friends entered the Barracks, and then many of those moved on, too, many of them to dragons, some to other pursuits. By the time he was twenty, Arlund had seen entire cycles of people pass through, had made friends with dozens of people and learned to adapt to (even enjoy) a constantly-shifting social circle which naturally, conveniently, often held himself and the handful of other long-standing candidates at its center as the only constant. He was old enough to have a fairly solid idea of who and what he was, and to be sure of his strengths and talents, and so by the time he finally Impressed Dalgariath, becoming a bronzerider only served to validate and cement the self-confidence that he had already developed.

Weyrlinghood passed quickly, followed by a short period of settling into his new wing, and then… well, there wasn’t much to keep a young bronzerider content in those days. The Pass was still over a decade out — too far to seem quite real yet — and the Weyr was full to bursting with riders, every position of rank well occupied, and a line of people ahead of him awaiting their turn whenever a wingsecond slot opened. It was just as well that A’lund was a social fellow, because what other way was there to while away the turns, and make a name for himself in the meantime? He fell quickly into old habits, bolstered even further now by true Weyr adulthood and, of course, the color of his dragon’s hide. Many of his old compatriots from the barracks — and other people older and younger and less familiar at first — were in a very similar position, and it was only natural to come together again, talk and laugh and share their frustrations and invent new amusements.

Of course, growing up tends to change people, or at least shift their priorities and interests, and sometimes he found himself interacting with the same old people in new ways. Nilshara had been a friend, a casual lover like many others, one of those girls that a boy like himself was expected to show interest in, and like many boys he had done so enthusiastically in their youth, and she, in turn, had courted himself and boys like him. That much hadn’t really changed with his Impression and her eventual failure to Impress. They still had many of the same friends, moved in the same circles and, with similar interests and appetites, found themselves drawn back together again and again. Neither of them was looking for a commitment, a tie, and maybe it was this fact that somehow eventually made it so easy for them to move in together: he had plenty of space, after all, and they were already waking up together pretty often, and they both had these fab ideas for parties which would be ever so much easier to execute if they had a space to call mutually theirs. It wasn’t intended to be a limiting arrangement, but an opportunity, and so why not? That it eventually grew into a deeper affection and attachment was only an unexpected bonus, and he can’t imagine not sharing a home with Nilsa now.

They set about making themselves into a hub of the Telgar social scene: throwing parties, interacting with all the right people in all the right ways, being genuinely charismatic because of course their enjoyment of it was never an act even if it all also happened to benefit A’lund’s career at the same time. After all, if openings are scarce, and there’s an entire pool of young hopefuls who perform well to choose from to fill them, you want your name to be one of those that springs instantly to mind when people think “bronze”. It’s what got him promoted to wingsecond fairly early considering the circumstances, ahead of people who had been waiting longer than he had. Wingleader was harder. The experienced wingleaders, even those old enough to be considering retirement, were loathe to leave the wings with Thread looming ever closer, and A’lund ended up falling into that promotion naturally: his wingleader had a heart attack only a few months before Thread was scheduled to fall, and A’lund just… bullied his fellow wingsecond aside and took over. The natural choice for successor was one of the wing’s own wingseconds, by tradition and for practical reasons (especially with Thread so close and an upset of the status quo potentially bad for the wing), and A’lund was popular enough that appointing someone else in his stead without a concrete reason would have raised enough eyebrows that B’deros couldn’t really afford to do it.

When Thread came and Ista sent out the call for help, A’lund spent a few sleepless nights expecting to be packed off to the island. He was not, as it turned out — he still wonders if B’deros’ felt he couldn’t afford to (for either practical or social reasons), or if he just didn’t consider A’lund a real threat. In any case, B’deros came to regret it the next turn, when Dalgariath pulled off an upset and flew the senior queen, breaking B’deros’ streak as Weyrleader. It was only a single term — Ducath outflew Dalgariath again in the next Weyrleadership flight — but it went smoothly enough, A’lund enjoyed a fair bit of popular support, and it changed the stakes for B’deros. When M’drasen came asking for more help from Telgar, the risk of upsetting friends and looking petty by sending A’lund and Nilshara was outweighed by the potential risk of letting them hang around. A’lund was unceremoniously packed off, uprooted from the home where his roots ran very, very deep.

Ista has not proved a very fertile ground for laying new roots, either. Despite A’lund and Nilshara’s efforts to re-establish themselves in their new home, the sand is proving resistant to planting. A’lund isn’t used to being the one iced out, and he doesn’t intend to let that stand, either. The Outsiders are his people now, and if that’s what he has, then damn it, that’s what he’ll work with.



Father: Irrelevant Bluerider, Telgar Weyr
Mother: Irrelevant Lady, Telgar Weyr

Children: A handful, fostered back at Telgar.


Many, TBD


Weyrmate: Nilshara


Weyrleader B’deros, rider of bronze Ducath, Telgar Weyr
Many, TBD


Dragon Name: Dalgariath
Color: Bronze
Age: 17
Weyr of Origin: Telgar Weyr


Dalgariath has a sleek sort of strength to him, an artful harmony of speed and power that makes him a credit to Telgari breeding. The bright, polished-bronze of his hide catches the sunlight over a long face and solid jaw, across his lithe frame, over back, hip, and flank, down long, sturdy legs. A sweep of deep orangey undertones ripple across the top of his head, spill down his neck and broad, robust chest, scatter and finally evaporate across his withers. His steps have a weight lent by certainty, confidence, and yet also a sense of fluidity and grace provided by the same. His movements and body language are colored heavily by his mood, and his default mood is Glorious and Yes and I am, and so more often than not he carries himself high and proud, wings not quite folded as if he expects to go aloft without warning at any given moment. When angry he sets himself — not like a stone, but like a predator about to charge: front legs splayed, claws digging in, head lowered and fangs bared. When happy he spreads his wings wide and catches the sun and glitters and projects, as if sharing the sight of himself drinking in his happiness somehow also bestows that happiness upon the world. He is an expressive dragon, a showy one, and if it even occurred to him that being forgotten was any sort of possibility, he would be pleased to know that he is not a dragon easily forgotten or mistaken.


Dalgariath is a simple bronze, confident down to his very core, with all the surety and sense of self of a child who has never before contemplated things from any other point of view. He’s not a schemer, a planner, or a strategist because he doesn’t need to be; he is what he is and if there’s something he’s supposed to do, then he can do it because clearly it’s something he was meant to do. If it wasn’t, then someone else would be doing it! He doesn’t know doubt, and he’s never met with failure. If something doesn’t work the way he intended it the first time, it’s because the first time it was different — next time it will be that other way. His world springs entirely from his own experience, and his rider’s, and that’s all that matters.

Dalgariath isn’t really much of a dragon for words. Why bother so much with words when you’re telepathic, anyway? He’s a dragon of strong feelings, and that’s how he communicates primarily: feelings and images, with words as more of a last resort when detailed clarification is required. The lack of verbosity doesn’t make him quiet at all: he projects with very little restraint or filter, sharing whatever he’s feeling, or intends to convey, loudly in a wave of feeling. Because he doesn’t verbalize too much, and tends to view things in very simple terms, it would be easy to mistake him for stupid, but he actually understands quite a lot, and has more of a vocabulary than even his rider probably suspects. Listening to A’lund all the time makes it hard not to pick up a lot of words and information, but then, that’s probably also why Dalgariath feels very little need to contribute in the same way. Let A’lund do all the complicated talking — Dalgariath will communicate the subtle shades and tone of sentiment.

Common Knowledge

Loud. Hates the rain. Apparently has a weyrmate.

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