Character Type: Dragonrider
Rank: Wingrider
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Sexual Preference: Heterosexual


Though he has come far since his years as a Holder's son, T'tavri still carries a particular air of noble born confidence around him. He walks tall—fitting since he stands higher than six feet—and with a slow, steady swagger. The complexion of his skin is smooth and fortunately (for him) free of any distinguishing (read: disfiguring) marks. His hands are impeccably soft, oiled to a baby's bottom smoothness through Turns of oiling his dragon. In recent years he has taken to shaving his head completely, though he keeps a short, stubbly beard to offset it.

Most often he is found wearing his well-maintained riding leathers. The rest of his wardrobe are clothes built more for efficiency than for fashion, contrary to the beliefs of some, with shirts and trousers made to withstand a rough and tumble day. When you have a dragon the size of Kaliath to wash and to sew a harness for, you have no need for fanciful clothes.


T'tavri is a man who lives in shades of grey. To him there is no concrete right or wrong, but simply those who fail and those who thrive. He’s determined to thrive, to have the power he always longed for, and nothing’s going to get in the way of that. Somehow T'tavri always manages to find a way to turn a situation into his advantage, or at the very least get out of sticky situations reasonably intact. Power is his one true desire, he wants it more than anything else in the world because then he has achieved what he always wanted: to be better than his brother and to prove everyone who favoured him wrong. When it comes to ingratiating himself to leadership, T'tavri is an expert, all charm and smooth words.

That’s not to say he’s some villain plotting in some dark weyr lair. He has other pursuits, even some other passions, but he never loses sight of his end goal. He’s actually quite charming, debonair, and he’s got exquisite taste in wine, women, food and men. His weyr is simple but stylish, and he always dresses well, knowing that a lot of people’s preconceptions are based on appearances first and foremost. His brand of humour is dry sarcasm and sass, along with a healthy dose of cynicism. T'tavri has little faith in humanity and is perfectly willing to share that with the world.

When it comes to deeper relationships like friendships, family or romantic entanglements, T'tavri pretends disdain, that he cares little as to what happens to them, especially if he told them they shouldn’t do something and they did. However he’s the first there if someone threatens them, the first to throw a punch if they are insulted, and the first to threaten someone with a painful end who hurts them. He’s a man of contradictions, and those who know him will always be torn between thinking him a complete dick…or a pretty good guy.


Birthdate: 8.417.8.15

He once hailed from a small holding deep in Fort territory known best for its unique brand of spiced bubbly pies, as well as several farms and bartered burden beasts. With his father as Holder, Tetavrin grew up in an atmosphere drowning in privileges: closets filled with the finest clothes they could acquire, foods both exotic and delicious, and gaudy accessories meant to exaggerate their status. His father was a hard, but fair leader. As the youngest child and the second son his duties and obligations were few and far between, extending barely past his mandatory Harper lessons and upholding the code of honor by which his family lived. He was also frequently forgotten, lost in the shadow of his older brother, the would-be heir to the Hold.

It was not until his 18th birthday that he was Searched to stand at Fort Weyr. Adapting to life at the Weyr and the change from privileged Holder's son to Candidate was a challenge for him, but with the dream of Impression on the horizon, and the consequent shift in power that he could lord over his brother, he endured. His patience turned into fortune as he later came to Impress to the second bronze of the small clutch, Kaliath.

From there his world shifted. Years of watching his father at work gave him a natural charisma that helped him encourage and guide his fellow weyrlings; toward riders of higher rank he was nothing short of overly considerate and deferrent. In short time he proved himself to be an orderly, disciplined rider to make his Weyr proud. But even he, the supposed model rider, never realized his true potential at Fort. He was always destined to watch other bronzeriders earn positions that he believed he rightly deserved.

When the persistent need for new riders came from Ista, after most of their fighting force was decimated, T'tavri very seriously considered going. He was disenchanted by Fort’s staid ways and unwillingness to promote new blood into Ranking positions while the current leaders sat mouldering away in their seats. At the rate Fort was going he wouldn’t be a Wingsecond before he was forty let alone a Wingleader. So he chose to go, to try his luck in a new Weyr, figuring that most Weyrs would be sending their chaff rather than the good grain. In a Weyr lacking in firepower and with an influx of hapless, hopeless riders…surely he would rise.

It wasn’t until he got there that he realised that Ista didn’t want new blood, they didn’t want new riders and resented their presence. And of course by then it was too late to back out.


Family: Holders of a small hold in Southern Boll. His brother is the heir.
Nialan, rider of blue Thiuth; wingwoman and friend

T'tavri's Dragon: Bronze Kaliath

Dragon Name: Kaliath
Colour: Bronze
Age: 19
Weyr of Origin: Fort


Kaliath is a gorgeous little pale red-bronze, delicate and perfectly formed and while small is definitely no dragon to be underestimated. He’s not the most athletic bronze, his limbs are not sculpted with muscle on muscle, and he’s small enough to almost be the size of a rather large blue, but there is a precision to him, that makes you think he’s far from helpless. Although small, Kaliath is a very attractive bronze, with his soft almost suede hide, and alert face. His headknobs are delicate but pointed and his wings are long and elegant.


This is not a bronze to underestimate. Some may do so because of his size, so much smaller than the usual bronze, or they might look at such a pretty dragon and think there’s probably not much more brewing between those headknobs. These people would be wrong. In a human, Kaliath might well be classified as a bit of a genius, a whiz with calculating trajectories and angles, sizes and differences. It’s this mathematical mind that gives him his precise edge, and indeed he has almost uncanny accuracy when flying and flaming.

He doesn’t blurt this gift about however, his friends know of course, because they pay attention, but he has no desire to share it with idiots who can’t figure it out for themselves. In fact he’s perfectly capable of playing the dumb dragon just so people don’t feel threatened, all while bringing out the talents when they are needed. He craves power, much like his rider, but where T'tavri doesn’t have any faith in other people Kaliath believes in popularity and using the power of the masses to your own ends.

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