Character Type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingleader
Age: 44
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual ?


Its not just his personality that makes L’giln frightening. He’s a big man with alot of solid muscle to back him up. He’s an incredibly strong man, with a fair amount of stamina, though his children find themselves very fortunate that he’s not also fast. Though he doesn’t tower over everyone exactly at just over six feet, he carries enough with enough arrogance that sometimes it feels like he does to whoever has incurred his wrath. And really, when he could probably just pick you up and throw you, height doesn’t really play a huge factor in things.

This is a man that rarely smiles and any creases in his face that have developed are from frowning. His pretty much only varies from mildly displeased, to outright apocalyptic rage. The only person that has ever seen him smile is N’krel, although even with the man he loves, neutral is generally the kindest look he has. This severity is only exaggerated by L’giln keeping his hair shaved down to nothing; his facial stubble is generally longer and the only indication that he has brown hair. Piercing blue eyes and a tendency to only wear black whenever possible enforce how very little humour or compassion this man has.


In L’giln’s world you do it right… well that’s all, there is no other option. You get it done or die trying. And if you don’t die trying you may as well go hang yourself, because that’s the better choice over failure. He dares his subordinates do to any less than meet his impossibly high standards and then takes a twisted pleasure in punishing when expectations aren’t met. He prefers a heavy hand in how he deals with other riders, but as too much physical damage only takes riders out of the air, he has learned other ways to make someone’s life miserable. There is little room for praise and the only way to know if you haven’t completely screwed up is L’giln doing nothing. Consider it a great accomplishment to earn complete silence from the man.

He’s hard on everyone, but L’giln feels is completely necessary. Life is hard, riding a dragon and fighting thread is hard. There is such a small margin of error when your profession is a matter of life and death that you can’t afford to be soft or lenient. And not just your own life and death, but everyone around you is at risk, as well as those far below where Thread is actually met. Missing some of your enemy can mean wiping out crops that feed Faranth-knows how many; one moment of distraction can cause half of a wing to end up in injury. Things can escalate so quickly in Fall out of nothing; survival essentially demands perfection. So perfection he will have out of anyone who’s unfortunate to be put under his charge.

There’s no doubt that he gets results though. If his followers hate or are terrified of him, well that’s just how it goes. He couldn’t care less if he’s loved or cherished; he wants to create effective fighters, even if he has to beat the skills into them. Well, that and he’s a little bit of a sadist, but that’s something that doesn’t get addressed outside of the bed-furs. He is a truly dominant creature, though, and makes no secret that he will treat those rougher who try to buck his authority. You ever want to be the person that calls him out and is *right*? Then he will see you pulling the worst duties and flying the most dangerous positions in Fall for a good long time.

This hardness and desire to control extends to his family. His children take an especially large amount if this attention. They are *his* offspring, something *he* made and they will be exactly what he tells them to. Perhaps its the ideal that he can single-handedly raise a horde of perfect, effective fighters to follow him into battle. Fighters that fly and think like him; truly the only things he could consider trusting. However, as it stands he’s only sired useless daughters (useless because he’s not a fan of female riders) and just one boy that he desperately tries to shape. Unfortunately his efforts are obsessively controlling and sometimes downright cruel. There is a love for his child, but its often buried very deeply under the disappointment that his only male child is far from what he expected in a son.

And then there is N’krel. L’giln is a *real* man, completely heterosexual and generally homophobic. Everything points him against being seriously involved with the man, but N’krel… he just doesn’t count. He is the exception that defies all of his ideals: Love is a waste of time, men shouldn’t be banging other men, relationships are pointless and only create weakness. But as much as he can try to fight it, deep down he truly loves N’krel and would be lost without him. He can’t ever imagine anyone being such a perfect fit and the fact the N’krel is a man is just an unfortunate obstacle that they routinely, and happily overcome. It is what it is and if its a knowledge that their peers know about, then there’s more than enough fear of what would happen should they go talking about. Don’t ask, don’t tell is the rule and the usually applies within the relationship as well. They don’t talk about their feelings, that is just out of the question. It happened once, so they could clarify what the crap was going on between them and that was more than enough. They know they satisfy each other, live up to each other’s standards and make each other happy. End of discussion.

The only real time anyone will see any sort of L’giln publicly giving a damn about N’krel is in any way threatened and if Shrelth wins a greenflight; L’giln is possessive, protective and can be unreasonably jealous, on occasion.


Birthplace: Fort Weyr, 8.406.7.21

Langiln grew up running around the bowels of Fort Weyr, causing trouble and throwing himself at the front of any gangs of children with ease. He was always a large, strong child who bullied his way through life. It wasn’t until he’d been a candidate a couple of turns that he started to learn that there was more to just getting your way, that there was actually something he could channel all his aggressive energy towards. He was bred and raised to be a fighter, to defend Pern when Thread came and he took this duty strongly to heart once he started to settle down a little. And then he turned it towards his peers. They would be perfect and he would be the leader that made them so.

Then Basrath came along, choosing him when he was fifteen and put him a real position to be in charge. He was the only bronzerider in his weyrling class and he was ruthless with them. The class grew and shaped up into a solid group of young fighters; even the women weren’t a total disappointment. This success only strengthened L’giln’s resolve and arrogance, though he did get the job done. And despite being perhaps a little more heavy-handed than his superiors might like, it was hard to hold back a leader that was so devoted to the success of the Weyr.

He’d known of N’krel, of course and the two were friends before they impressed, but he never could have imagined what they would turn into. Their first encounter happened a couple of turns after N’krel graduated. They were drinking together, one thing somehow led to another and then the two spent a few long months awkwardly avoiding each other. Except when the wings at Fort were shuffled around a little L’giln was promoted to wingsecond and N’krel was moved into his wing. From there things gradually fell away from being awkward and they started spending more time together. At first they only slept together when they were drunk, but as it became obvious that they suited each other just so, their liaisons became regular and more serious.

It was a whole lot of turns of this before they actually acknowledged what it was and had a conversation about it. They were drunker than they ever had to be for sex, and it might not have been the most cohesive evening, but in the end they knew where they stood and didn’t need any more than that.

L’giln spent a few turns as wingleader at Fort before Thread fell again and at least his ruthlessness with his wing paid off: they weren’t hit as badly as some. When word came in that Ista badly needed help, L’giln was asked to go and at first he wasn't interested, but then it came up that his son and N'krel's nephew had been setting things on fire. Needless to say the boys weren't wanted at Fort, so L'giln grudgingly decided to transfer. He wasn't going to leave it to some screw-up Weyr to raise his son that was for sure. Besides, it was a good chance to show those fools how things were done.



Father: Brownrider G'lani,
Mother: Greenrider Tandrin,
Siblings: Open!
Children: I'lya, Rider of Blue Terith
Many daughters


N'krel, Rider of Blue Shrelth
Imaye, Seamstress at Fort Weyr.

L'giln's Dragon: Bronze Basrath

Dragon Name: Basrath
Colour: Bronze
Age: 29
Weyr of Origin: Fort
Wing: Windraiders


Basrath isn’t quite what you would expect from a bronze, but he’s certainly a handsome fellow regardless. Most notable is the gleaming near-white shade of pale bronze that covers all of his face except for a small, dark brassy mask across his eyes and a bit of his muzzle. The rest of him is mostly the same very dark bronze except for where it lightens dramatically across his side and up the inside of his wingsails. He is a very long, lean bronze with smaller legs so that he walks low to the ground, though he does so with a sort of slinking grace rather than looking awkward about it.


One would expect the dragon of a man like L’giln to have the same sort of constant intensity, but its more common to see Basrath curled up among warm boulders, or burrowed into the sand of the beaches, sound asleep. The bronze spends an unusual amount of time sleeping and is painfully grouchy when he has to be awake during the day time. Contrary to this, he is in his prime during the evening or early morning. He loves to be awake while the sun is rising or setting and is certainly more energetic than he needs to be during these times. L’giln learned early on that the best time for his dragon to train is at these times of day, so its not uncommon for riders in their wing to be up at the crack of dawn every day doing drills, or flying until its too dark to see clearly in the evening.

Basrath is a highly territorial creature and once something is claimed he will guard it with aggressive jealousy. Its not unheard of for him to snap at fellow dragons if they get too close for his comfort, especially when he’s holed himself up in whatever sort of den he’s managed to make himself. His own rider and any other humans he’s claimed as his own only need to holler and whatever is causing them distress will have to answer to an enraged bronze. Despite this, when he’s in the mood to socialize he can be very pleasant, though spending time with other dragons is always on his terms.

A struggle that Basrath and L’giln constantly have to deal with is the stress the bronze gets in large, open spaces. He’s always preferred to be secure and safely holed up somewhere sheltered and the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability he gets from being out the in the open can be enough to send him into a panic if L’giln isn’t on top of helping him deal with it. Its something they constantly have to work on; the last thing they need is Basrath freaking out in the middle of a Fall.

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