Post by Bacchante on May 10, 2009 14:12:38 GMT -5
Name: Belach
Pronunciation: Bell-ack:
Honorific: B’ach
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Current Age: 25 Turns
Rank: Weyrleader
Birthplace: Skrull Island
Current Location: Skrull Island Weyr
Mother: Millah; Journeyman Weaver at Skrull (Formerly a Drudge).
Father: B’rac, Guard at Skrull and rider of Ghresath
Siblings: A few younger siblings he knows very little about.
Significant others: None
Children: None
Height: Five foot four.
Physical Description: B’ach is solidly built for his size. Not muscled particularly, but with little available fat and a descent set of muscles. His hair was a dark brown, but close proximity to his Wraith for an extended time period has bleached him somewhat; it is unknown if this is a normal occurrence but in any case his hair is a light, milky brown now. He has green eyes which seem to have inherited a measure of distinction from his dragon, as his gaze is calm and patient and slightly intimidating if he stares at you for too long. B’ach was never the fairest but like most Skrull who live inside the Weyr his skin has been slowly whitened by years without sunlight leaving him pale and slightly strange looking when compared with his dark eyes and washed-out hair colour. His face is also strange, he has a long scar down his face which stretches from his right cheek to his left temple; it narrowly misses bot his eyes. B’ach has deep set eyes, an a pointed chin which, all in all, gives him a slightly alien appearance that is not helped by his coloration.
Personality: B’ach is a very controlled person, making sure he doesn’t show weaknesses. His real personality is rather soft, shown in his interactions with his parents or younger siblings on the rare occasions he meets them as well as in his dealings with Zenith. He keeps dragons in a far higher regard than humans, and is deeply mistrustful of any unattached female due to the swarms of them that he encountered while the candidates were being shown to the King Wraith egg. He has no problem at all with female dragonriders or those who are marred but becomes internally nervous around those he thinks might be trying to ensnare him. His outward personality is of a hard, uncompromising young man who seems to be cynical beyond his years. B’ach has a sense of innate authority about him, an air of command born from twenty years of having people leapt to fulfill his every order but lacks the arrogance that comes with it due to his grounding in Zenith’s personality. He is arrogant toward those he perceives as weaker than him, a fault which can be crippling in diplomatic situations.
Style of dress: Tends to wear a variety of clothes. He has a set of coloured robes that he believes he picks at random, although unbeknownst to him his choices often reflect his or his dragons mood. His favorite is the purple robe as that is a very rare colour and expensive to obtain. He has leather riding clothes which he has in fact never worn, because never has his Wraith gone out on a flight.
Habits/Hobbies: Practices Stonecarving in his spare time, having already carved the recent history of Skrull Island Weyr into the wall of his quarters. Writes the occasional prophetic ballad, none of which have come true.
Personality: It is impossible to tell what B’ach’s personality would have been had he not impressed the Wraith, but he is now ambiguous and trying of anyone’s patience. Just like his dragon he seems incapable of saying anything bluntly, always skirting around what he wants to say and making you come to your own conclusions. He does not run the Weyr so much as steer it, having mastered the ability to let things happen in a way that benefits him. If a rivalry grows, use it. If a problem arises, break it and make it work for you. He is a caring soul like his Wraith, but will not abide prejudice or unnecessary battles; going so far as to ban duels unless you bring your case before him.
Background/History: Born to a loving coupling between a Drudge and a Ghostrider Guardian, B’ach had an interesting childhood. Interesting because of the events leading up to it, and its shortness. A few days after his birth, during the winter months, an unfortunate accident occurred. The Weyrleader had always had a slightly tenuous grip on reality which was only helped by certain medicinal herbs and the constant contact of his dragon’s mind. However, with the Queen Wraith truly asleep and the supply of herbs running low he went for a walk one day, decided he was a dragon and leapt off the ledge to fall to the bottom of the Shaft. Needless to say he did not survive the event.
In any case, it was five long years later and the King Wraith egg had yet to hatch. Older and older candidates were being exposed, and outsiders may have been brought in had it nor been for a stroke of luck that has resulted in the eggs being kept under careful guard from that day onward since it was discovered that if the Wraith was dead, the egg would hatch is it felt one who could impress it nearby regardless of age. So it was that a Drudge searching for her son walked past the entryway to the hatching sands, happened to glance inside and saw her five-year old boy rubbing the belly of a dragonet the size of a small runnerbeast.
Later on the event was deciphered like this: The boy, having run away from his mother, had wandered onto the Sands and was making a sandcastle with his bare hands. The guards were on rotation, and didn’t notice him inside as the replacement pair was running late. The boy heard a voice saying his name, and turned to see an egg larger than himself sitting on the sands awaiting a hatching ceremony later that day. The egg did not crack, rather it was slashed from within. It split down the middle, with barely any noise as the Wraith within broke the egg in half and crawled out slimy and hungry. It lay down on the sands, eyeing the boy. The child didn’t know well enough to be afraid, he merely walked up to the creature and scratched it on the eye ridge just like he did on his Father’s Ghost. The Wraith rolled onto its back with a rumble and he was scratching its stomach when his mother found him, screamed, and brought down every guard upon him.
The guards tried to separate him from the Wraith, not understanding at first that he had impressed it; they sent out calls for the candidates so the creature could be rapidly impressed to save the breed. However, the guard who tried to carry the boy away found himself being smacked into a wall. The young dragon curled around the boy and put its immense wings around their bodies like a shield. It was then that the candidates were sent home and the elder dragonriders summoned to debate what would happen. By tradition the boy should be Weyrleader, but he was too young. It was decided that the Shade Rider who was the oldest of the council would continue to be interim Weyrleader until the boy was of age. The Drudge was made exempt from her more… unsavoury duties and decided to take up Weaving as a pastime. The father returned home from escorting a goods caravan to discover his son was being raised to read, write and lead the Weyr. Once he recovered from his fainting he was overjoyed.
Belach himself grew up as a serious boy, whose sole playmate was Zenith the Wraith. His dragon grew at a prodigious rate, surpassing a Shade in size by the time he was ten. In direct contrast, her rider was shorter than his father but slightly taller than his mother. Despite this he ended up have an unimposing figure, not helped by his education. He was raised to be soft-spoken and musical in his nature, given training by the Harpers to help his lyrical side to blossom even though he never officially joined. He was taught the intricacies of Masonry, and the delicacy of Carving. He was trained in the secrets of the Island and the Weyr, and taught above all that the Wraiths must survive.
When he was fifteen he suffered an assassination attempt which resulted in him gaining the scar on his face. The disgruntled child of the soon to be deposed interim Weyrleader believed that he should have be leader next and not the ‘drudge brat’ as he called him. The day of the Wraith’s impressing of Belach the he gained a Shade which made him discontented and his mood poisoned the creature. So one day when Belach was leaving the Fifth Level to go to his daily lesson, the son ambushed him on the stair and slashed his face sending him plummeting to his supposed death. Luckily, fate smiled upon him. His father had just come out onto level four and was looking up for his son so he knew which stair to intercept him. He saw the slash and the shove, and his Ghost leapt out into the shaft without warning at the mental instruction of his partner. The Ghost smacked the wall between level four and three, hanging there with his claws in the stone. Since Belach’s father was tied his dragon by a safety rope, due to the precarious angles Ghosts often occupied, he leapt off the back of his dragon and caught his falling child, smacking into the rock wall.
B’ach survived this attempt with naught but the scar on his face and a slightly more nervous disposition. He didn’t see his aggressor’s face and couldn’t identify him as the knife was tossed down after him and had in fact been stolen from the smith. That would have been it if his assailant hadn’t tried his luck again later. B’ach turned twenty and the interim Weyrleader decided to step down and relinquish his position to the rightful leader of Skrull Island Weyr. After the ceremony, B’ach ordered for tables and chairs to be set up on the fifth floor with Ghosts to ferry the food up, and invited nearly half the Weyr to the celebration. When the council of advisors went into a collective apoplexy and tried to advise him that it was against tradition to do so he merely replied, “Zenith chose me. I am the Weyrleader. I am tradition.”
During the party the former leader’s son came to him and invited him to talk. He drew B’ach to the edge of the party near the ledge and the two gazed down into the Shaft. “My father was leader.” He said. “You deposed him. I should have been leader next, not you.” B’ach snorted at this foolish assumption, “The Wraith chose me. Not you.” The son snarled at him, “You stole her!” He struck B’ach suddenly wit his fist and the Weyrleader fell onto the stone. The other guests saw and tried to rush over to help but a Shade landed in between them and the pair, the son’s Shade. The assassin held the stunned B’ach up, ready to slit his throat and toss him off the edge when he suddenly reeled away in pain. A pair of giant claws had grasped his dragon and in a heartbeat torn it in two. The son kneeled on the ground, staring in pain at the giant form of Zenith the Wraith Queen above him.
During her growth she had been hidden from sight, and she was large even for her breed. The Shade at the lower end of its size range as well, meaning it she was nearly twice the size of the other creature. She had sensed the poison in its mind and had killed it quickly, putting her brother out of his misery. The would-be murderer suffered a worse fate. Zenith grabbed him, slashing him with the bone blades formed on her talons as she dived down the Shaft. She couldn’t fly inside the Weyr and so merely climbed down level by lever, falling small distances and using her wings to slow herself.
She landed at the bottom and tore open the entrance to the Bathing Pools. Since there was an empty one she delivered her punishment, dumping him on the ground and spraying him with acid. A few seconds later after his clothes were gone and he was screaming in pain she tossed him into the pool of water.
A mourning service was held the next day. The son took two months to recover from the acid, and even then he was horribly disfigured and crippled since the healers had refused to use the salve that would help him heal the burns at the Weyrleader’s order. Once healed he found out that his family had declared him dead due to the shame of his actions, and his name had been barred so none could speak it. He was sent to East Steppe where he earned a living by weeding the town until he gave up and ran under a falling birch log.
For the next five years Skrull declined as the Wraith King egg had yet to hatch despite the best efforts of the Weyr. The numbers of dragons were declining as none of the Shades had been able to fly Zenith successfully, and all the dragons left were from the last clutch before the Queen died. The Weyrwoman had passed away before Zenith had grown large enough to mate and Skrull was in dire straits. So B’ach hatched a plan and now he is ready to announce the existence of him and his Weyr to the rest of Pern in a desperate ploy to save his home.
Name: Zenith
Color: Wraith
Weyr/Age Impressed: Impressed at Skrull Island Weyr, 20 turns of age.
Sire: Wrretanth
Dam: Mirlath
Size/Wingspan: 78 metres/204 metres.
Physical Description: Zenith was a more violent personality since her birth and her bone growth reflects this. She has a long fin that goes out the back of her head and runs along her nose, smaller there so as not to restrict her vision. She has armour plates along her body which slide along each other when she turns around; these extend along her arms and give her a smooth if slightly ridged appearance. Her forked tail has been accented by a large spike there and her talons are covered along the top and bottom with thin blades which lead her to rest on her palms and claw tips. A peculiarity of her vainness has led her to order B’ach to carve a pattern into her bone, a task which he recruits the whole Stonecarvers Hall for bimonthly. These patterns vary, as she often orders them changed on a wall.
Personality: As a Wraith Zenith has a dominant personality due to a inbred tendency in other Skrullumbrans to obey her without question. She is more violent than she should be, quicker to anger than her mysterious speaking method would suggest. Her size breeds cautiousness in her, and she is very careful about where she steps although this is from merely her size and worry for B’ach rather than the normal temperament of a Wraith. Zenith a distinct disdain for any male dragon who seems to think he can mate her, making it a point to knock away all challengers with the gusts from her wings when she is forced by instinct to rise.
Pronunciation: Bell-ack:
Honorific: B’ach
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Current Age: 25 Turns
Rank: Weyrleader
Birthplace: Skrull Island
Current Location: Skrull Island Weyr
Mother: Millah; Journeyman Weaver at Skrull (Formerly a Drudge).
Father: B’rac, Guard at Skrull and rider of Ghresath
Siblings: A few younger siblings he knows very little about.
Significant others: None
Children: None
Height: Five foot four.
Physical Description: B’ach is solidly built for his size. Not muscled particularly, but with little available fat and a descent set of muscles. His hair was a dark brown, but close proximity to his Wraith for an extended time period has bleached him somewhat; it is unknown if this is a normal occurrence but in any case his hair is a light, milky brown now. He has green eyes which seem to have inherited a measure of distinction from his dragon, as his gaze is calm and patient and slightly intimidating if he stares at you for too long. B’ach was never the fairest but like most Skrull who live inside the Weyr his skin has been slowly whitened by years without sunlight leaving him pale and slightly strange looking when compared with his dark eyes and washed-out hair colour. His face is also strange, he has a long scar down his face which stretches from his right cheek to his left temple; it narrowly misses bot his eyes. B’ach has deep set eyes, an a pointed chin which, all in all, gives him a slightly alien appearance that is not helped by his coloration.
Personality: B’ach is a very controlled person, making sure he doesn’t show weaknesses. His real personality is rather soft, shown in his interactions with his parents or younger siblings on the rare occasions he meets them as well as in his dealings with Zenith. He keeps dragons in a far higher regard than humans, and is deeply mistrustful of any unattached female due to the swarms of them that he encountered while the candidates were being shown to the King Wraith egg. He has no problem at all with female dragonriders or those who are marred but becomes internally nervous around those he thinks might be trying to ensnare him. His outward personality is of a hard, uncompromising young man who seems to be cynical beyond his years. B’ach has a sense of innate authority about him, an air of command born from twenty years of having people leapt to fulfill his every order but lacks the arrogance that comes with it due to his grounding in Zenith’s personality. He is arrogant toward those he perceives as weaker than him, a fault which can be crippling in diplomatic situations.
Style of dress: Tends to wear a variety of clothes. He has a set of coloured robes that he believes he picks at random, although unbeknownst to him his choices often reflect his or his dragons mood. His favorite is the purple robe as that is a very rare colour and expensive to obtain. He has leather riding clothes which he has in fact never worn, because never has his Wraith gone out on a flight.
Habits/Hobbies: Practices Stonecarving in his spare time, having already carved the recent history of Skrull Island Weyr into the wall of his quarters. Writes the occasional prophetic ballad, none of which have come true.
Personality: It is impossible to tell what B’ach’s personality would have been had he not impressed the Wraith, but he is now ambiguous and trying of anyone’s patience. Just like his dragon he seems incapable of saying anything bluntly, always skirting around what he wants to say and making you come to your own conclusions. He does not run the Weyr so much as steer it, having mastered the ability to let things happen in a way that benefits him. If a rivalry grows, use it. If a problem arises, break it and make it work for you. He is a caring soul like his Wraith, but will not abide prejudice or unnecessary battles; going so far as to ban duels unless you bring your case before him.
Background/History: Born to a loving coupling between a Drudge and a Ghostrider Guardian, B’ach had an interesting childhood. Interesting because of the events leading up to it, and its shortness. A few days after his birth, during the winter months, an unfortunate accident occurred. The Weyrleader had always had a slightly tenuous grip on reality which was only helped by certain medicinal herbs and the constant contact of his dragon’s mind. However, with the Queen Wraith truly asleep and the supply of herbs running low he went for a walk one day, decided he was a dragon and leapt off the ledge to fall to the bottom of the Shaft. Needless to say he did not survive the event.
In any case, it was five long years later and the King Wraith egg had yet to hatch. Older and older candidates were being exposed, and outsiders may have been brought in had it nor been for a stroke of luck that has resulted in the eggs being kept under careful guard from that day onward since it was discovered that if the Wraith was dead, the egg would hatch is it felt one who could impress it nearby regardless of age. So it was that a Drudge searching for her son walked past the entryway to the hatching sands, happened to glance inside and saw her five-year old boy rubbing the belly of a dragonet the size of a small runnerbeast.
Later on the event was deciphered like this: The boy, having run away from his mother, had wandered onto the Sands and was making a sandcastle with his bare hands. The guards were on rotation, and didn’t notice him inside as the replacement pair was running late. The boy heard a voice saying his name, and turned to see an egg larger than himself sitting on the sands awaiting a hatching ceremony later that day. The egg did not crack, rather it was slashed from within. It split down the middle, with barely any noise as the Wraith within broke the egg in half and crawled out slimy and hungry. It lay down on the sands, eyeing the boy. The child didn’t know well enough to be afraid, he merely walked up to the creature and scratched it on the eye ridge just like he did on his Father’s Ghost. The Wraith rolled onto its back with a rumble and he was scratching its stomach when his mother found him, screamed, and brought down every guard upon him.
The guards tried to separate him from the Wraith, not understanding at first that he had impressed it; they sent out calls for the candidates so the creature could be rapidly impressed to save the breed. However, the guard who tried to carry the boy away found himself being smacked into a wall. The young dragon curled around the boy and put its immense wings around their bodies like a shield. It was then that the candidates were sent home and the elder dragonriders summoned to debate what would happen. By tradition the boy should be Weyrleader, but he was too young. It was decided that the Shade Rider who was the oldest of the council would continue to be interim Weyrleader until the boy was of age. The Drudge was made exempt from her more… unsavoury duties and decided to take up Weaving as a pastime. The father returned home from escorting a goods caravan to discover his son was being raised to read, write and lead the Weyr. Once he recovered from his fainting he was overjoyed.
Belach himself grew up as a serious boy, whose sole playmate was Zenith the Wraith. His dragon grew at a prodigious rate, surpassing a Shade in size by the time he was ten. In direct contrast, her rider was shorter than his father but slightly taller than his mother. Despite this he ended up have an unimposing figure, not helped by his education. He was raised to be soft-spoken and musical in his nature, given training by the Harpers to help his lyrical side to blossom even though he never officially joined. He was taught the intricacies of Masonry, and the delicacy of Carving. He was trained in the secrets of the Island and the Weyr, and taught above all that the Wraiths must survive.
When he was fifteen he suffered an assassination attempt which resulted in him gaining the scar on his face. The disgruntled child of the soon to be deposed interim Weyrleader believed that he should have be leader next and not the ‘drudge brat’ as he called him. The day of the Wraith’s impressing of Belach the he gained a Shade which made him discontented and his mood poisoned the creature. So one day when Belach was leaving the Fifth Level to go to his daily lesson, the son ambushed him on the stair and slashed his face sending him plummeting to his supposed death. Luckily, fate smiled upon him. His father had just come out onto level four and was looking up for his son so he knew which stair to intercept him. He saw the slash and the shove, and his Ghost leapt out into the shaft without warning at the mental instruction of his partner. The Ghost smacked the wall between level four and three, hanging there with his claws in the stone. Since Belach’s father was tied his dragon by a safety rope, due to the precarious angles Ghosts often occupied, he leapt off the back of his dragon and caught his falling child, smacking into the rock wall.
B’ach survived this attempt with naught but the scar on his face and a slightly more nervous disposition. He didn’t see his aggressor’s face and couldn’t identify him as the knife was tossed down after him and had in fact been stolen from the smith. That would have been it if his assailant hadn’t tried his luck again later. B’ach turned twenty and the interim Weyrleader decided to step down and relinquish his position to the rightful leader of Skrull Island Weyr. After the ceremony, B’ach ordered for tables and chairs to be set up on the fifth floor with Ghosts to ferry the food up, and invited nearly half the Weyr to the celebration. When the council of advisors went into a collective apoplexy and tried to advise him that it was against tradition to do so he merely replied, “Zenith chose me. I am the Weyrleader. I am tradition.”
During the party the former leader’s son came to him and invited him to talk. He drew B’ach to the edge of the party near the ledge and the two gazed down into the Shaft. “My father was leader.” He said. “You deposed him. I should have been leader next, not you.” B’ach snorted at this foolish assumption, “The Wraith chose me. Not you.” The son snarled at him, “You stole her!” He struck B’ach suddenly wit his fist and the Weyrleader fell onto the stone. The other guests saw and tried to rush over to help but a Shade landed in between them and the pair, the son’s Shade. The assassin held the stunned B’ach up, ready to slit his throat and toss him off the edge when he suddenly reeled away in pain. A pair of giant claws had grasped his dragon and in a heartbeat torn it in two. The son kneeled on the ground, staring in pain at the giant form of Zenith the Wraith Queen above him.
During her growth she had been hidden from sight, and she was large even for her breed. The Shade at the lower end of its size range as well, meaning it she was nearly twice the size of the other creature. She had sensed the poison in its mind and had killed it quickly, putting her brother out of his misery. The would-be murderer suffered a worse fate. Zenith grabbed him, slashing him with the bone blades formed on her talons as she dived down the Shaft. She couldn’t fly inside the Weyr and so merely climbed down level by lever, falling small distances and using her wings to slow herself.
She landed at the bottom and tore open the entrance to the Bathing Pools. Since there was an empty one she delivered her punishment, dumping him on the ground and spraying him with acid. A few seconds later after his clothes were gone and he was screaming in pain she tossed him into the pool of water.
A mourning service was held the next day. The son took two months to recover from the acid, and even then he was horribly disfigured and crippled since the healers had refused to use the salve that would help him heal the burns at the Weyrleader’s order. Once healed he found out that his family had declared him dead due to the shame of his actions, and his name had been barred so none could speak it. He was sent to East Steppe where he earned a living by weeding the town until he gave up and ran under a falling birch log.
For the next five years Skrull declined as the Wraith King egg had yet to hatch despite the best efforts of the Weyr. The numbers of dragons were declining as none of the Shades had been able to fly Zenith successfully, and all the dragons left were from the last clutch before the Queen died. The Weyrwoman had passed away before Zenith had grown large enough to mate and Skrull was in dire straits. So B’ach hatched a plan and now he is ready to announce the existence of him and his Weyr to the rest of Pern in a desperate ploy to save his home.
Name: Zenith
Color: Wraith
Weyr/Age Impressed: Impressed at Skrull Island Weyr, 20 turns of age.
Sire: Wrretanth
Dam: Mirlath
Size/Wingspan: 78 metres/204 metres.
Physical Description: Zenith was a more violent personality since her birth and her bone growth reflects this. She has a long fin that goes out the back of her head and runs along her nose, smaller there so as not to restrict her vision. She has armour plates along her body which slide along each other when she turns around; these extend along her arms and give her a smooth if slightly ridged appearance. Her forked tail has been accented by a large spike there and her talons are covered along the top and bottom with thin blades which lead her to rest on her palms and claw tips. A peculiarity of her vainness has led her to order B’ach to carve a pattern into her bone, a task which he recruits the whole Stonecarvers Hall for bimonthly. These patterns vary, as she often orders them changed on a wall.
Personality: As a Wraith Zenith has a dominant personality due to a inbred tendency in other Skrullumbrans to obey her without question. She is more violent than she should be, quicker to anger than her mysterious speaking method would suggest. Her size breeds cautiousness in her, and she is very careful about where she steps although this is from merely her size and worry for B’ach rather than the normal temperament of a Wraith. Zenith a distinct disdain for any male dragon who seems to think he can mate her, making it a point to knock away all challengers with the gusts from her wings when she is forced by instinct to rise.
