Character Name: Jalarant

Age: 19

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

Craft/Rank: Miner/Apprentice

History:
His father was a miner, as was his father's father. His mother was from a Southern Boll holder's family. The marriage was arraigned nicely to everyone's standards, except perhaps to the young woman's. She was sixteen turns, her husband was over thirty; she was his second wife. Much like the woman who came before, she bore many children. Jalarant was the sixth child. She died in childbirth with her eighth child.

Jalarant was mostly raised by his stepmother and his father's mother. He had a horribly boring childhood; no strife, no debilitating diseases. His step-mother was a good, if overworked, woman, who took care of all her husband's children.

All of his older sisters were paired off nicely when they came of age, and all of his older brothers went into the mines like their father. Jalarant, however, hoped with everything he had to be something different. Anything else, though he would have preferred to be a Harper. And why not? Harpers taught the children, they entertained the men. They got to be trained at the Harper hall, and they got to journey once they were old enough. To see the world... That was something Jalarant desired. He wanted to see what lay behind their small mining hold.

Unfortunately for the boy, he wasn't gifted at Harpering. His voice was average at best, as was his learning ability. Besides, the boy wasn't willing to go against his father. Mining had been good enough for their family for generations, why should it change for one boy?

Perhaps he would've done better if his family mined a different sort of mine. Cromcoal was hard work in a tiny area. Jalarant hated the underground, hated the coal he mined, and became more withdrawn and nasty as the years went by.

However, he did have one shining bit of luck in his life: Two riders came to his hold on search, and tapped the young man. Even if he wasn't picked for the honor of being a rider, Jalarant would refuse to come home. He'd find some way to make himself useful at the Weyr, even if it was as dumb muscle.

Description: Years of hard work with his craft have given him a very sturdy physique. He's also quite tall, which wasn't such an asset in the caves. His hair is black and thick, slightly curly when wet. He has brown eyes. His skin is a natural darker flesh toned; not tanned, but not lily white either.

His jaw is large, his cheekbones are high. His nose has been broken at least once, and is wider at the bridge. His eyes are deep-set in his face. He has full lips, which would be lovely if he smiled. Most of the time, he hods them in a tight, annoyed line. He's covered in minor scars, little nicks and burns, from his years working in mines.

Personality: Taciturn, Jalarant is rarely seen smiling. The man seemingly hates everything and everyone in the mines. He dislikes conflict, and would prefer solitude to a gather. He takes orders well, but rarely has any initiative to start something new of his own.

Underneath the nasty tempered man, there is one that is terribly unhappy. He dislikes his career and is uncertain about everything from his future to his sexuality. Part of his quiet nature is that he finds it hard to relate to people. He wants to, though, and as such would likely be the man on the outskirts of a small group.

He likes children and music, and making things with his hands, be it by sewing or crafting.

Other: In addition to being so far in the closet he can see Narnia, Jalarant has a dislike of small places and a fear of heights. I'm sure that will work out for him well on his first flight.