Character Type: Dragonrider

Rank: Weyrling

Age: 19 (born X.X.X.X)

Gender: Male



L'killian is remarkably tall, perhaps one of the tallest men in the Weyr. Good genetics and a hard life at sea have given him the thick, muscled frame of a hardworking man, and he doesn't hesitate to show it off now and then, working out in the open to give everyone an eyeful. The color of his skin is a natural dark color, and his complexion is fair. He seldom ever lets his hair grow out and shaves it short. On occasion, you might catch him wearing a bandana of some sort; he has a few that his father gave to him. His dark brown eyes seem almost black in dim light.


Personality: Life is what you make of it. Those were the words that L'killian's father spoke to him time and time again. It's become the core philosophy of how he goes through life day to day. He understands that nothing in life is guaranteed and that if you want something, if you want to amount change in your life, then it's on you to make it happen. Growing up among fishermen and sailors has taught him the importance of your crew and how they can often be the one thing between you and death. In time, the Weyr will become his crew. He'll look out for them like he would a brother, a friend, a fellow crewman, and he'll do whatever's in his power to keep them safe.

He is without a doubt an incredibly passionate young man who feels everything to its fullest. Those same emotions guide many of his decisions. L'killian is reactive, not proactive, and though he always acts for the greater good his actions may not always achieve that.

He also understands that for every hard day of work, there has to be some kind of relaxation. He'll train, drill, and fly as hard as any man, but at the end of the day you'll find him kicked back in the Dragonriders' Hall with his feet on a table. This balance which he strives for cannot be interrupted; he won't do work if he doesn't have any to do. There is no 'extra credit.'


History: Larkillian was born in the splendor of Half-Circle Sea Hold. He was the third of four children (not including the foster children his mother helped raise). His father, a seasoned fisherman, spent his life out on the open sea while his mother spent her days helping out in the kitchens and the creche. His childhood was unremarkable. Many years he spent running over the beaches and through the crowded corridors of the sea hold while his oldest brother was already preparing to apprentice. What he would do with his own life had never been a question on his mind. Every night, his father would sit around the table and tell far-fetched stories of impossible catches out at sea, and these stories of wild, dragon-sized fish and bizarre sea creatures enchanted Larkillian.

As Larkillian came of age his father took him in under his wing and gave him a place on their fishing boat, teaching him the absolute basics of being out at sea. The first time Larkillian hauled in a catch of his own, he felt renewed. It wasn't the stuff of stories like his father had told him, but he learned the value of the work they did, and he learned to find enchantment in it.

When Threadfall returned to Pern, Half-Circle was one of those Holds least affected. Being surrounded by rock and water gave them plenty of protection from the parasite. While word traveled down from other Holds about the tragedy suffered there (and at the Weyr), Larkillian never really understood what any of it meant. Nobody from Half-Circle ever died from anything other than old age. Sometimes there were accidents out at sea—usually someone lost to the waves in a storm—but that was the risk you took trusting your life to the water. That was what his father had told him.

From then on, his life found its way back into a routine. He fished, he enjoyed the beach, he helped his father; he even found himself a pretty young girl to court.

That all changed when he was presented with the option of being Searched. The blue rider from Ista had explained that Larkillian didn't have to accept the offer, but a sense of moral obligation pulled him in the direction of the Weyr. He was allowed to remain and find his own way to Ista Weyr, should he choose. It gave him the chance to sit down with his family and talk about it. Both of his parents were torn over the issue. While his father wanted him to go and claim the honor of being a dragonrider, his mother still had a strong, maternal attachment and couldn't stand the thought of seeing her baby leaving for good. The evening grew emotional. Larkillian eventually decided to go, promising that he'd visit as often as he could. The next day, he was on a wagon bound for the Weyr.

Things at Ista Weyr were very different than he expected. The political climate was largely lost on him; Weyr politics were simply never something he had to know. He tried his best to fit in with the other candidates. While the eggs readied themselves for hatching, he put himself to work around the Weyr wherever he could—usually around the Kitchens.

The hatching was tumultuous. He'd never witnessed one before and had no idea what to expect. Suddenly, baby dragons were hatching, crawling around the sands looking for their riders. Larkillian was just on the verge of losing what little breakfast he had when—

L'killian! I found you! I feel like I've traveled the ends of Pern to find you.

There before him sat the little green dragon that had claimed him. He and Tyth were forever bonded.

Now his life has taken a new, permanent path; he's a dragonrider. With Tyth at his side, he can't wait to see where it goes.



Dragon Name: Tyth
Colour: Green
Age: bb
Weyr of Origin: Ista



Bright and vivid, much like her personality, Tyth stands out among other greens with a vibrant hide of fern green that is mottled with erratic patches of a lighter, bluish-green. She'll grow to be quite an average sized green, just enough to hold her rider, with a frame built for the typical swiftness of her color.

Personality: Tyth hatched with the knowledge that there were things to be done, even without a fundamental understanding of what those things were. As greens go, she is typically flighty and has a difficult time retaining important information. Time and time again she has to be reminded what to do. This memory lapse will weaken as she matures, but L'killian will have to consistently keep Tyth up to speed on their drills.

Fortunately, she loves it. There's nothing quite like the rush that comes from practicing or sweepriding, the feel of the wind brushing against her hide, or the idea that someone she's responsible for more than just herself. She's but a tiny cog in a large machine, but somehow she understands the idea that she's an important piece. Even if it is very minute, the Weyr depends on her, so she can't stand the thought of letting anyone down. It's not a matter of being perfect or beyond reproach, it's just pulling your weight. Laziness and shortcuts will never do. She'll learn the hard way that you can't bully other people into thinking the same way. That won't stop her from trying.

But just like L'killian and his moments off-duty, Tyth has a sweeter, softer side to her that isn't nearly as focused on keeping up. She'll laugh, joke around, and laze in the sun like any dragon ought. Just when its time to get the harness and fly Thread? It's all business.

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