Character Type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingrider
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Bisexual


T'ricus has a lot going for him in terms of appearance. He's a weyrman bred from a strong bloodline with equally strong features: a solid jaw line, a square face, broad shoulders, and a frame that can best be described with "a tall drink of water." just a few of the more appealing traits about him; what genetics hasn't gifted him he has worked hard to achieve and maintain. Turns of physical training in preparation for Impression, not to mention the hours of work put at the forge, have hardened him and put a good bit of bulk of his body. There's no question that he looks like he could wrestle a wher and win. His rugged and muscled appearance is the heroic sort of look that most people will attribute to dragonriders. Images of heroism and white knighting abound.

His style of dress leans towards the practical more than the fashionable, clothes that can take a lot of wear and afford to get dirty. Dressing up isn't something for which he has a lot of need, and when those events come there's now his official dress uniform.


Often mistaken for being slow or dim-witted, T'ricus is a man with not a lot to say. While he's not mute or incapable of speaking, he goes out of his way to avoid long conversations with people, preferring quiet and solitude to companionship and social events. When he does speak, it's blunt and to the point. He doesn't tolerate unnecessary jabbering or gossip. He's a young man with neither a lot to say nor does he feel anyone really wants to hear it, so he maintains a quiet stoicism that is meant to reflect both his own inner strength and his stubborn unwillingness to snap beneath the breaking will of those around him. He possesses in him a determination that borders on the reckless; while he doesn't necessarily fear failure, he refuses to accept it as an outcome. One of his most major flaws is his inability to let things go, especially things out of his control.

The scope of his world is very small, encompassing very little past his brother, for whom he would move mountains; T'dagus is the closest thing he has to normalcy, a flesh and blood slice of home that grounds him and reminds him of who he is. Sure, there is the Weyr to which he owes his duty and his life, and he will serve it unquestioningly, but friends and companions feel hard for him to come by. This has a lot to do with the fact that he doesn't feel a lot of camaraderie with the native Istans, particularly those with whom he now shares a weyrling class (and later, a wing). Still, he knows it is his duty to try. Every smile turned his direction is a step closer to making the full adjustment.

The largest part of his internal conflict stems from that he no longer feels like an outsider, no matter what a few patriotic Istans will say. Domandrath made sure that he's to be an Istan, and now he's doing his best to cope with that, fighting both an uphill battle for respect among those who are now his peers and fighting for the respect of his patriotic father, who still insists that Igen blood is what runs through his veins. It hasn't helped matters that he managed to Impress brown, he's sure, yet he loves his dragon all the same.

Beneath the cold, aloof exterior he projects to the world, T'ricus is a deeply loyal soul who feels a lot more than he lets on. He intervenes when his friends are in need, he listens when someone needs an ear, and he won't hesitate to fight on the behalf of the weak. His father brought him up to be a proper weyrman, one who fights for honor and good, who never backs down and who never sacrifices — he plans on fully living up to those expectations regardless of his situation. So while he may not be the most emotionally deep person in the Weyr, he certainly ranks among the strongest of both heart and body.


Birthdate: 8.428.1.22

The oldest in a long line of Weyrbred sons, Turicus had the honor of setting the bar for those who would follow after him. As the son of a brownrider who was serving as a wingsecond at the time, there were a number of expectations waiting for him before he was old enough to walk. Having a stern, patriotic father certainly didn't help matters any. Though his care was primarily the responsibility of creche workers and Weyr women alike, T'morus made certain that regular visits were had with his children, particularly Turicus, upon whom he impressed the solid ideas of being a proud, strong weyrman of Igen. At such a young age, that influence left deep and lasting notions. The young lad grew up knowing that his destiny was to Impress a dragon, just as his father, grandfather, and great grandfather had; he was groomed from the start for Impression.

Understandably he stood for his first clutch as soon as T'morus could skirt him past the age requirements for candidacy. There came no dragon for him then, but his father wasn't ashamed, justifying it with the excuse that there were only so many bronzes per hatching. Turicus couldn't be expected to win against the odds every time. But as the Turns rolled on, hatching after hatching passed by without so much as a hint of interest from the hatching dragonets. The pain was felt by both ends of the spectrum: his father grew more and more disappointed in him, and Turicus felt that disappointment so deeply that he began to shut himself off from the world. His interests waned. Diligently he continued to attend his lessons. In time caring for his brother was added to that list, and he looked after Turdagus as closely as any crechemother would. Among the other weyr boys he'd built up a reputation for himself: nobody bothered his brother, or they'd suffer for it.

The relationship between he and his father soured quickly once he was past his eighteenth birthday, an age that felt far too old for any dragonman to have hope. Fearing that he might never live up to the dream of Impressing his own dragon, Turicus offered to try and pick up a craft in the meantime. T'morus, who had just been demoted from his position and was still sore about it, took out his frustration and his anger on his son. The two of them fought, fists were thrown, and a permanent dent was put in the perfect exterior of their relationship. In spite of it he attempted to pick up some skill at the smithing trade, and through that he learned that he was quite competent with a hammer and anvil. Though he still stood for any clutch that hatched at Igen, he continued his studies, refusing to accept that his future was based in nothingness. Thread would come, and one way or another he would be ready to serve his Weyr.

When that fateful day arrived, Turicus was one of the last people to hear about the disasterous tragedy at Ista, being so far removed from the news. The only reason he heard at all was because of his father's unbridled rage at being ordered to lend a hand there; it was too much for the proud Igenian. Though T'morus delivered a very charismatic speech about supporting the other Weyrs, Turicus knew that on the inside his father's blood was boiling, and yet he agreed to travel with him anyway. If anything, he could hope to help around the protectorate, if he wasn't needed at the Weyr. With his younger brother Turdagus in tow (the two were nigh inseparable) they all left the comfort of home at Igen and moved to Ista, only a few months after the First Fall.

Adjusting was an awkward process for Turicus. Without his brother, he knew no one, and very few seemed willing to get to know him. Some faces were friendly, while others were outright hateful. Though he well understood their stubborn pride he felt scorned for offering his help, and he grew frustrated. He purposely distanced himself from many of the other candidates, relying on the company of his brother. He felt like an outsider, and he acted like one.

As Tameketh mated and subsequently laid a clutch of eggs, there was a lot of talk between Turicus and his father about standing for it. Feelings were mixed, tensions were high — much as he hated the idea of his son Impressing an Istan dragon, T'morus decided it was better to show their support. A very confident Turicus stood on the sands on hatching day, convinced that he wasn't going to Impress, because he certainly hadn't before. Surprise was something of an understatement when Domandrath approached him, and the two made Impression. For his father, disappointment was only one of the things he felt.

Now as an Istan weyrling, T'ricus had a long and complex road ahead of him, though he was determined to do right by himself and by Domandrath, no matter the cost.


T'morus - rider of brown Nefoth; the abusive father
T'dagus - rider of blue Kerwalth; his estranged brother

T’ricus’s Dragon: Brown Domandrath

Dragon Name: Domandrath
Colour: Brown
Age: 2
Weyr of Origin: Ista


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.

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