Character Type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingrider
Age: 56
Gender: Female
Sexual Preference: Bisexual


Like most dragonriders who have grown up during an Interval, Nareyn has aged well. She's the very picture of health, standing 5'7” with a fit, toned form, just since the first Threadfall of the Pass sporting a Threadscore across her right shoulder and upper arm. Her features are sharp, with high cheekbones and a straight, narrow, high-bridged nose, and a few light but definite lines of aging around her brown eyes and at the corners of her nose and mouth, particularly when she smiles. Her hair, once dark brown but now salted liberally with silver-grey, falls just to the top of her shoulders and never an inch more, and thick enough that the weight allows it to hold only a little of its natural curl. The length is perfect for the quick, long-practiced maneuver of pulling it back with both hands, a quick twist, and tucking it up under her helmet.

She's not really what you'd call butch – she's just a woman who has led a long active life that involves some very grim realities, and that fact combined with her natural practicality precludes any frills or niceties. She doesn't see any reason to wear makeup for Thread's benefit, or do anything elaborate with her hair beyond whatever it takes to keep it as untangled as possible beneath her helmet and in the wind. If she prefers trousers, it's because dresses and dragonriding don't mix very well, not because she can't be comfortable in one (she certainly can, and on the rare occasions when she does dress up for gathers or feasts she can shed her customary boots and walk just fine in a pair of dress sandals with a bit of a heel, thank you very much).

And anyway, style of dress or attraction to frilly things isn't what makes a classy lady. Nareyn moves with the same poise and confidence with which she speaks – not really refined or eloquent, no, but decisive and with purpose.


Nareyn is earthy, no-nonsense, and completely practical. She enjoys hard work, the feeling of getting things done, and she doesn't expect any recognition or accolades for it – no, that would be silly, because patting someone of the back for simply doing their duty (and everything is ultimately everyone's duty, if you actually get her talking about it) is only slightly less ridiculous than patting someone on the back for managing to walk upright. She doesn't need anyone else's approval to take pride in herself or her dragon; after all, she knows when she's done a good job, and that's all that matters. Not that she ever actually does anything less than a good job. It would be fair to call her a bit of a perfectionist, and while she can occasionally be overly-critical of other people, she's even harder on herself. Nareyn holds herself to a certain standard of skill and dedication, and naturally holds others to the same level, no matter what their profession may be – you work your ass off to do the best work you can, whether it's as simple as spinning a tune or as crucial as flaming an entire clump of thread that's falling over fertile farmland, and if you just do that, she can respect you.

That doesn't, however, mean she's going to put up with your shit if you try to give her any. She is very proud, and won't hesitate to defend herself or her Weyr. She doesn't go around looking for fights – she'd rather leave that sort of overcompensating bullshit to teenaged boys and roosters – but she's got no problem stepping up speak her mind, and she won't back down from a challenge. In fact, her tendency to do just that is probably her biggest flaw. She's made a few enemies over the turns just by telling it like it is, no sugarcoating, and occasionally rubs people the wrong way on first meeting without really intending to. She's self-confident enough not to care if people like her, which can sometimes be just as damaging as having no self-esteem at all.

Sometimes she has a little trouble winding down at the end of the day, but once she does, she's actually pretty good company. Hard work deserves hard play, after all, and while she'll never be the life of the party, she's perfectly comfortable sitting around the table with some wingmates drinking beer and playing a few rounds of dragon poker or darts, trash-talking each other in that fond way that soldiers and teammates often do. It's not really unusual to find her just a wee bit tipsy in the evenings – just enough to get her nice and loose – but very rarely any more than that.


Birthplace: Ista Weyr, 395.11.08

Nareyn was born at the Weyr to a greenriding mother and a father who was of Weyr stock but had never Impressed and ultimately chose to serve the Weyr as a smith, instead. She spent her childhood in the creche and only rarely saw her mother; her father was a bit more accessible and ultimately a bit more welcoming. He didn't seek Nareyn out much, but he did usually spare her a few words and a pat on the head whenever she came by the smithy, even though he did eventually take a wife and have other children to whom he was closer. She didn't suffer for the general lack of attention any more than any of her mates in the creche did. Her days were filled with harper lessons and playing games – often rough games with the boys and more physically-inclined girls – and she wasn't the sort of child who demanded a lot of attention, anyway. She occasionally got herself in trouble for brawling, but for the most part she was just an independent little girl who more than kept pace with the others and had no desire to be coddled.

She became a candidate mostly because it was what was expected. Not every Weyr child ultimately rode a dragon, but most of them did at least do a few turns on the Sands – there weren't many clutches during their candidates turns, after all, and it wasn't as easy back then to change ones mind and try again later. The clutches were fewer then, with the Pass still decades away and many many turns of Interval behind them, and the possibility of actually having to fight Thread, and possibly lose a lifemate, still seemed so very distant.

It was as a skinny girl of fourteen that green Valduinth chose her, and that was that. There wasn't much of note happening in life during the Interval. They grew, graduated Weyrling Training, worked and drilled with their wing as the Pass grew closer. Like most dragonriders Nareyn took lovers whenever she wished… and even fell in love once, though she found out the hard way that sometimes love alone isn't enough to make a relationship work, and it all fell apart after a few turns. She had a few children, which she keeps track of, speaks to from time to time, but whose lives she doesn't interfere in – she never felt like the particularly motherly type, and she trusted the women of the creche to do their job better than she could. After all, her business is dragons, and theirs is children, so who would she be to tell them how to raise babies?

She wouldn't trade Valduinth for anything in the world, but looking back on it now, she wonders if she might have pursued a different path if she had understood then how very unfulfilled forty turns of waiting would be. It was rough on a dragonrider's pride to realize they were really only doing half of the job they were born and bred to do, and that they might never get the chance to do simply because Thread might never actually get around to returning. Still, she did her part as the turns passed – drilled with her wingmates in preparation, cared for her dragon, contributed a few children of good dragonriding blood to the Weyr in the hopes that they might ride for Ista when the Pass came. She was even weyrmated for a time, though it ultimately didn't work out and Nareyn decided that commitment was ultimately not for her (or more accurately, that she wouldn't mind it if she thought she could find someone who could love her and still give her some space).

The First Fall will forever be etched in her mind. She lost friends, siblings, and lovers all in the space of a few candlemarks – watched riders much younger than herself devoured by Thread, while she herself escaped with only moderate scoring to her upper arm and Valduinth with a few scores to the left flank. There was hardly any time for mourning, though. Ista had lost half its fighting strength completely and another large portion would be out for injury, and yet Thread would fall again soon, much sooner than their decimated Weyr could possibly prepare for. Like many of her Istan native friends, she bristled as the Weyr flooded with outsiders, and she saw some of them for what they were – bronzeriders looking for power, to swoop in and take rank, to get a chance at the Weyrleadership. She saw Ista suddenly facing the very real possibility that, in the near future, it wouldn't just be indebted to the other Weyrs – it could be practically subservient to them. Those few riders who are left, of any color, would have to step up and do something about it.

The dead weren't coming back, after all. But the future was still coming.

When it seemed as if the few remaining Istan bronzeriders weren't going to have much time to properly mentor the young up-and-comers, Nareyn took it upon herself to try to steer the young bronzerider, L'rori in the right direction. She was as surprised as anyone, though, when his Rowlieth caught Tameketh at her second mating flight after the First 'Fall disaster, and L'rori became Weyrleader. Breaking with tradition, he assigned her as one of his wingseconds, and she helped him sort the new wings into full Istan leadership once again, recommending strong, experienced blue and greenriders to fill the gaps left by the lack of remaining mature Istan browns and bronzes.



Father: Journeyman Smith Ballorayn
Mother: Greenrider Nariss
Daughter(s): Annaca, weyrling to blue Colstenth
Sons: probably, TBD


L'rori, rider of bronze Rowlieth


Bronzerider R'fan, once many years ago, and it was a terrible mistake that she'll thank you not to mention.
Greenrider V'lada




Dragon Name: Valduinth
Color: Green
Age: 41
Weyr of Origin: Ista Weyr
Weyrling Class: 8.410.13.3
Wing: Red Tide


Valduinth is a large green, rather leonine in form – long-bodied and long-limbed, with sleek muscles and graceful movements that belie the power beneath the surface. Her entire hide seems soft and muted, rather earthy, in color – mostly a mossy green all over, with dapplings of deep forest green that blend and gradually solidify as you work your way up, until her muzzle, spine, and shoulders are solid forest green. Her face is long and rather severe-looking, and her neck-ridges are sharp with an almost hook-like arch to them.


Valduinth has a way of carrying herself that gives a certain impression – one of a matronly and regal dragon, calm and sophisticated – and that impression is, for the most part, accurate. On first meeting she may come across as a bit too prim and proper just because of the way she speaks and moves, but while she is both of those things, she's also laid-back enough not to expect others to act that same way she does. She was born with confidence, but age and experience have reinforced it, and she doesn't have anything to prove to anyone – unlike Nareyn, though, she's more likely to laugh at an insult than to get annoyed. She enjoys socializing with other dragons, and doesn't mind speaking with humans other than her rider occasionally – mostly just when she has something important to say, but occasionally just because their reactions to it amuse her. Far more approachable than her rider, Valduinth honestly wants to help others succeed, whether it be in Threadfighting or even some minor silly little relationship problem, and she enjoys giving advice (which she honestly thinks about and tries to consider from many angles – she's quite a smart green). If only Nareyn had had more patience for it, Valduinth might have made a wonderful Weyrlingmaster's dragon.

In 'Fall, she's level-headed and dependable, very aware of her surroundings and vigilant for the safety of her wingmates. There's very little she misses, and she's always quick to call out danger and, if necessary, inform the wingleader of problems. Despite the differences between them, Valduinth and Nareyn share a bit of an attraction to irrepressible rascals – in mating, the green often favors males who both challenge her and can make her laugh.

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