Welcome to Gaia! ::

1. Don't be an idiot. That should be as read, but we should make it clear.
2. Don't attempt to intimidate, harass, or otherwise interfere with other players.
3. No, seriously, don't.
4. Remember that this is fun, and is supposed to be fun!

Forms and specific information

Jr. Gold #1 information:

- She is 10 turns old.
- Gold Hiraeth clutched her in turn 193.
- She was clutched during the dragonplague that killed 60% of dragonkin across Pern.
- The clutch was laid and hatched in the middle of the desert in Igen's territories. All candidates from HR who were eligible to Stand and were willing to go were sent out to the desert. Nobody was forced into going.
- The hatching was chaotic and rather bloody.
- The weyrlings lived in the desert, cared for by a few adult dragons from HR and from Igen, until the plague ended. They then moved to Igen until those candidates who had come from High Reaches were old enough to between back to HR under supervision. Candidates who had been sent by Igen to the clutch remained at Igen, as was agreed between the two Weyrs; the split between candidates from HR and from Igen was around 50/50 but the candidate who Impressed Jr gold #1 hailed from HR.
- Note that the culture of Igen Weyr is rather different to High Reaches Weyr.

Jr. Gold #1 entry form:




Jr. Gold #2 information:

- She is 7 turns old.
- Jr. Gold #1 clutched her in turn 196.
- She laid the most recent clutch (turn 2).
- She has not yet clutched a gold.

Jr. Gold #2 entry form:

Junior Gold #2

THE RIDER
Name: Loreana
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Appearance:
A bit on the shorter side of the height spectrum for girls, Loreana at first glance is not very imposing. She is a little heavier, with more flesh to her curves, than the average female her age, though not bulky or excessively overweight by any means. Her extra fat does not hamper her movement in any way, and she moves quickly and with a certain sort of grace. Her hands are nimble with long, thin fingers. As a woman who tends to prioritize others before herself, Loreana’s body is covered in scars. Often leaving her own wounds unattended or forgotten until she has finished with taking care of everyone else.

Her hair is a light brown, cut to just above her hips so it is easily tied back from her face. Lucky are you if you see her with her hair down in any place besides the bed or bath, and luckier are you if you manage to convince her to let it loose at any other time. She hates it being in her line of vision. Her eyes are light hazel and a bit on the wider side, and like the rest of her face, her eyes are incredibly expressive. It is easy to see what she’s thinking most of the time, as the set of her chin normally gives her away. Her clothing is always practical, and she rarely, if ever, is seen in a skirt. She prefers pants and shirts or tunics that she can move comfortably in. Her only distinguishing clothing feature are the knots on her shoulder, and a golden star on her shirt and even those are a rare sight indeed. She has three pale silver parallel scars running along her left cheek, adding a unique asymmetry to her face. Her chest and abdomen are a mess of scars, where one of the bronze hatchlings tore into her as she Stood for the first and only time. These scars rarely show, though, except when she wears lightly colored clothing or low-cut tops.

Personality:
Practical and not prone to lounging, Loreana is a restless individual. She is short in speech, stating the maximum amount of content with the minimum amount of words. She grew up in a stern sort of home where this sort of plain-spokenness was appreciated, and while she is possessing of compassion in dealing with her friends and family, she still generally does not wax eloquently about any subject. She prefers to be direct and get right to the point.

Her down-to-earth and sensible attitude towards living makes her seem very snappish, and in truth, she can be. In reality, though, she simply prefers to not overstate matters and just present things as they are. She is very organized and prefers things to be neat and in order. Her tendency towards organization and preference toward order makes her rather bossy, and she tends to be territorial about her space and time. She is strong-willed and extremely independent in many matters and is not good at being ordered about in many respects.

Despite her bossy and snappish tendencies, she does possess a great deal of compassion for her fellow dragonriders. Due to the fact that her parent’s were always busy as well being the eldest child, she automatically took charge of raising her siblings. A strict and incredibly overbearing ‘mother’, she was the one cleaning and bandaging the frequent childhood injuries her siblings were prone to suffering. This attitude has remained unchanged into adulthood and often causes a rift amongst her fellow weyr companions. Though her compassion towards her fellow riders is fierce most perceive her as bossy and tend to find her abrasive.

Her mothering tendencies do not translate well to adult recipients, though, and she frequently finds herself bemused by the fact that her attempts at caring are more often taken as nagging. She is quick to care but slow to trust, and she is most certainly not an easy person to get along with, given her stubbornness and tendency toward cautious physical affection. Once she trusts a person, though, she has few secrets from them, and any person lucky enough to share in her secrets is well-advised to keep her trust. She never forgets a favor done for her.... or a wrong against her.

She also is very insistent that everyone be treated equally. Goldriders are no better than greenriders, as greens make up the bulk of the fighting force they are easily just as important. While tasks may differ from rider to rider, it’s hard for her to accept that someone may be more important just because they wear a different thread, like a different color, or live a different way. Because of her desire for equality Loreana fails to see a barrier between the genders. Women and men are equal in her sight and she doesn’t let what others say affect any of her decisions. This tends to get her into alot of trouble.

Highly driven and somewhat idealistic Loreana loves when she has something to work towards. Even if that means resorting to ‘nagging’ in order to get approval to do something. In more recent terms she wants to return to her studies, for she feels a lack of ability to be of any use to the Weyr as she is. Could it hurt for a queenrider who can’t fight thread to tend to those who do? She understands this is practically impossible for her to do, as all Healers must be trained at the Craft hall. This hasn’t stopped her from attempting to further her own studies through reading in her spare time.


History:
Born the second of seven children to a Joined couple in High Reaches Hold, Loreana grew up enjoying the sea, the space, and a vast immediate and extended family. Her father was a fisherman, and her mother spent most of the day gutting the fish that came in every day, in addition to being one of the undercooks in the kitchen. As she was one of the oldest children, Loreana was often herding the vast army of younger siblings and other holdchildren around, making sure they weren’t straying into anything dangerous. Unfortunately, living on the shore meant that spines in feet, cuts from sharp rocks and shells, and other such injuries were all too common. Loreana’s parents were often too busy to tend to the frequent wounds incurred by their children, so Loreana often found herself putting numbweed and bandages on her little siblings and friends.

Because her older brother followed into their father’s footsteps on the boat, it was decided that Loreana would work in the kitchens with her mother. Thus, by nine Turns old, she found herself forced to work in the hot, crowded kitchens alongside her mother. Despite being a quick learner and being interested in how things were cooked, Loreana detested being ordered about by the other women in the kitchen. After Turns upon Turns of being the one in charge with her siblings, Loreana detested being bossed around by people who seemed more concerned with gossiping than in getting their jobs done. The situation finally came to a head one day when Loreana’s mother was ill and could not work, and the head cook began to lecture Loreana unceasingly. When she ordered the girl to go do a task that had already been accomplish several times that day. Loreana put her foot down and refused to obey, simply out of spite. The argument increased in volume and intensity until finally the woman struck the girl across the face, leaving a series of deep nail scratches across her left cheek.

Still spitting mad, Loriana found herself at the residence of the hold’s Healer to get the bleeding on her face to stop. Fuming about the injustice of it and a general hate of being in the kitchens, she ranted to the amused healer about how much she disliked her new lot in life. She wanted to return to life where she found herself enjoying life and exploring outside with her younger siblings and friends, and she resented having to be cooped up indoors under someone else’s thumb all day. Just as the healer was finishing cleaning up her face and she was running out of furious complaints, an emergency case came in. A fisherman had been tangled in the nets and fallen on his own knife, slicing open his abdomen. The healer had rushed to assist, and Loreana, unwilling to return to the kitchens in disgrace, had followed along mostly out of curiosity. The situation turned out to be even worse than described, and the healer had used Loreana as an extra pair of hands to assist as he bandaged and cared for the man as best he could.

When it was all said and done, Loreana found herself liking what the healer did. She was no stranger to blood and bandages, and the urgency of the situation had made her more alert. There was no humdrum cooking of the same things, and she made tracks after the healer as he went back to his residence, begging him to make her his apprentice. He initially refused, mostly because of her stubbornness and unwillingness to take orders, as was evidenced by her fight with the head cook. When she returned home and her parents found out about the situation, her mother, still ill, simply snapped at her for being disrespectful. Her father said nothing, and Loreana woke the next morning, sullenly expecting to return to the kitchens with her mother. Instead, she found herself tailing her father to the healer, and somehow in the discussion, the healer reluctantly gave her a try.

Within a week, it was match made. Keeping her busy with learning and tending to injuries improved her bad attitude, and while she was still not keen about blindly doing exactly what he told her, Loreana found herself gaining a significant amount of respect for the healer. As her respect for him grew, so did her willingness to do what he told her, and her learning curve grew steeper. She had very little time to work with the healer before the trouble of the “dragon plague” started and she was subsequently to be moved to the Healers craft hall. Because of her parents good fortune in their craft, and that the rest of her siblings followed in their parents steps Loreana was lucky to have her parents provide for the fee of her training.

It was because of the low number of healthy dragons, and the prospect of a future clutch with Igen that Loreana was searched for High reaches before she could be moved to the hall to complete her apprenticeship. Loreana, for her part, was eager to go to the Weyr. After Turns of listening to her mother talk of future marriage and bear more children to fish with her adult relatives, she was more than ready to escape and go to a new place, a place where there wouldn’t be incredible amounts of people breathing down her neck. Her parents however were furious at the wasted money of her discarded trade. And her teacher refused to let her return to study under him should she fail to impress.

Loreana found candidacy exciting, for a fourteen turn old girl. Even with her now shaven head even when a new friend, Aliscia of green Tanith, -To whom she was squired- persuaded her to Stand for Hiraeth's clutch. And while blind orders still upset her, Aliscia was always good about explaining why things were done the way they were. This eased many of the young candidates tension about orders. It was a scary prospect leaving the high reaches to stand out in the desert and share candidacy with those who hailed from Igen. In the end though, it made perfect sense, with the dragons dying all around them. Loreana did join all the candidates out in the unknown part of pern with overwhelming excitement and more than a little interest due to the bond that Aliscia and Tanith shared. Desperately hoping to impress any dragon, she instead found herself pinned flat on her back on the sands by a confused bronze hatchling. A bronze who bonded to the boy whose injuries had been incurred by a tiny green moments before. Dazed, weak, and in pain, she was further pained whens he failed to impress. The hatching itself had been a bloody and terrifying scene and Loreana wondered why anyone who had seen hatchings of this sort let alone stood for them, would ever return to stand again for a following clutch. Returning to High Reaches with the rest of the candidates Loreana returned to her squired position with Aliscia expecting to age out of candidacy.

Three more years in Candidacy and two clutches later. A stronger friendship was built with Alisca, and her body was now hardened to the training she was now accustomed to. The rush among the Wery was one Loreana had never predicted. Everyone seemed to be preparing for a great threat. She was later informed by Alisca it was because thread was due to fall soon. Understanding the urgency behind the Weyrs actions Loreanna was one of the first to volunteer to help in extra ways wherever she could. When refused, and usually during her rest days she often spent her time studying what she had learned from the healer who had begun her apprenticeship.

It was a thrill for Loreana to watch the youngest queen rise for the first time. And an even greater surprise when the young queen managed to lay a queen egg. Like previous hatchings Loreana was eager and hopeful that she might impress this time around. While she had been terrified the second time, they had been calmer hatchings compared to the one in Igen. And as luck would have it, Loreana did impress in the young queens clutch to Gold Adath.

As soon as able, she was paired up to help as an assistant to the Headwoman, On’ya of Blue Verth. To whom she grew to love as a parent. Her role had returned to that of her childhood. Tending to the Weyrbrats making sure they were well cared for and fed. Discovering that she wasn’t allowed to fight thread sent both pains through her for her friends, and soothed her own heart at the same time. She had feared thread from the first moment she had heard of it and had fretted over the fact that she might die in threadfall all through candidacy even though thread had yet to fall.

Upon the Sr. Queen Hiraeth’s next clutch, Adath herself was the first to offer up support and help her mother care for the next brood on the sands. Having had no experience raising her own clutch. And the way she figured, it couldn’t hurt to learn a bit more hands on from her. While most of her work was set in turning the eggs in the hot sands, Loreana was happy to see her gold pleased to be of help in the Wery instead of egging the Sr. Weyrlings into games of tag. To which the pair reasoned was good for building the dragons stamina and muscles for Adath could sense danger approaching and assumed the dragons could use the extra push.

Adath’s maiden flight took Loreana by surprise. And from then on she was prepared for the ‘dragon frenzy’ as she likes to call it. And politely keeps to her own Weyr alone when her golden queen rises. This marked the end of the interval and the start of the pass of the red star.

Sure enough, the red star returned bringing with it the threat of thread. It was during the first appearance of Thread that Loreana began seeking ways to finish her apprenticeship as a healer. So that she would be of more use to the Weyr’s inhabitants. The injured dragons and their riders that fought against thread for all of pern, for without them, Pern wouldn’t survive.



THE DRAGON
Name: Adath
Age: 7
Colour: Gold
Feel of voice: Children laughing at play, a warm embrace, the smell of a Redfruit tree. Rain on a hot day
Appearance:
This beautiful gold will never rival her clutchmother in length or sheer size, on the smaller side of the average in build and in length. Her claws are well curved, her neck is neither too long nor too short and is gracefully arched when she is poised in all her regal attitude. Adath isn’t the perfect queen. She is not, a scaled down version of her mother, for she lacks powerful muscle but makes up for it in grace and slender elegance, a strange blend of both her clutchparents without their size.

Her hide is a very pale honey-gold and will always glitter, even when she is in dire need of a bath and oiling. Her very motion will set her hide to glimmer in what Adath deems perfection, making her seem like she is in a constant readiness to rise. Still, those well accustomed to her will ignore her glittering until it turns into a regal glow, and she will positively glow with such a radiance as to be unmistakable. Only a small scattering of spots across her backside will break up the otherwise ‘flawless perfection’ of her honeyed hide, and these spots are a coppery-tinted gold, hinting at her sire. The entirety of her hide is smooth to the eye and the touch, and it will be no wonder that she is often stared at. She is quite the beauty.

For all her beauty and supposed grace, Adath is not always the most dignified in posture. Sure she is graceful in the air, but her smaller size and evenly-proportioned wings make her stamina less that of an average gold, Enough so that large or well-practiced browns may have a chance at her. Her flights are beautiful, and her movements on the ground are not clumsy or awkward. Still, Adath rarely looks like the queen she is. She doesn’t have to have good posture since she has the hide and personality, apparently, so she is often found sprawled out or slouched when not hunting or flying. She enjoys sprawling, particularly on top of a nice warm ledge. Preferably next to any of the Metallic males in the Weyr while she listens quietly..

Personality:

This lovely gold believes herself to be a flawless creature of grace and beauty. A hedonist through and through, she truly enjoys the finer things in life… and only the finer things. Only the best oil and herdbeasts are acceptable to this creature, and she is fixated on enjoying every moment, accepting that it could very well be her last. What other purpose is there in life but self-gratification, after all? She can be very possessive of the objects, people, and creatures that keep her happy, territorial and clingy to the point of being suffocating at times. It will not be unusual to see her physically clutching at some creature whom she does not want to share. As a weyrling, this was probably limited to her sitting on older dragons’ feet or clinging with claws and teeth to the end of their tail, an odd and somewhat painful form of affection to be sure. Perhaps greatest in her affections is her clutchsire. She never really did outgrow this behavior.

For her rider, she is protective, and will snap at anyone who dares utter a poorly chosen word about her while in this gold’s presence. Aside from this, Adath says little and does little. She is content to simply sit and watch people around her argue while dropping only a word at most into the conversation. One may be amused to find out, however, that the little Adath does contribute to the arguments and chaos around her are actually things that spur it on even harder. It is unclear if Adath does this on purpose or not, but the little amused rumble of dragon-laughter she gives herself after such instances might suggest that yes, she does this on purpose and probably just for fun.

Those who are not familiar with Adath will assume that there is no depth to her character, though they could not be more incorrect. For all her seeming preoccupation with pleasure and gratification, Adath is quite the mystical creature, deeply intuitive and prone to some superstitions. She enjoys thinking about a problem or a question, and she is a dragon who likes to ask a thought-provoking question or give a very philosophical answer. Shallow creatures, those whom she believes do not possess the ability to think at her level, are among those who irritate her most, and Adath will purposefully avoid those who do not wish to converse about serious issues with her. This is partially arrogance and partially just boredom. Adath is best kept mentally occupied, or that intellect will be turned to something destructive.

The Gold is also very good at organization and unsurprisingly, manipulation. Adath will find that it comes alarmingly natural to her. If someone can hone these skills it could spell triumph or trouble. Among other things, Adath is also very alert and has the ability to memorize her surroundings. If she leaves and someone moves something, something even as inconsequential as a book from a shelf, she will know immediately upon returning. Almost nothing escapes her attention unless its physically impossible for her to concentrate. She is also level headed and extremely intelligent, this gold is amazing at handling situation that deal with very delicate terms. There is a time and place for emotions, and Adath does well to not let them cloud her judgement. Unless of course, she can put herself first.

Adath is loyal to her Weyr. She views all the dragons of her Weyr as hers and she would never want anything bad to happen to them. To this gold A dragon’s worth is measured by the worth she gives them. Namely, the more she favors them, the more important they are. She openly fawns over the dragons who pay her due respect as a gold. The bronze that caters to her the most, of course, receives special attention from her, though she is quick to drape herself over other bronzes if he fails to admire her as much as she feels he should.

Honorable is a concept very near and dear to her heart. It is important to Adath that if she says something, or makes a promise that her word is kept. And she will go to any length to maintain her word. Because if she were to break her word it would reflect poorly on her character. And she can’t have anything messing up the way people see her.

Adath and are a contradictory pair. Together they have the ability to argue and come to the best solutions by viewing both sides of a problem from various angles. It is more likely for Adath to come around to Loreana’s way of thinking as she is more stubborn and it is easiest for her to please her dragon.

THE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS

- Question for rider: What were your aims in life, your dreams for the future, before you Impressed?
Loreana rested against the back of her chair. “Simple. I was in the process of being transferred to the Healer’s craft hall to work on my apprenticeship. My dreams haven’t changed. I would still like to work on my Healer’s craft. Though I know that’s impossible now.”

- Question for either or both: Describe your Impression.
“That’s a bit of a personal question.” Loreana shrugged looking away.

Then relay my words mine.

It was magical, all my clutchmates hatching around me, some already knew who they wanted as they broke out of their shells. I waited, biding my time inside my shell until I could find Loreana. I wanted to be noticed, I didn’t want anyone missing my entrance. So I waited. And then I found her! I found my Loreana, and I knew I had to be quick if I wanted her because what if the others took mine? I couldn’t have that.

Loreana quietly relayed the message before interjecting. “You stole the spotlight.”

Feeling Adath beam across the bond made Loreana smile awkwardly. Of course I did, that was my intention. I just couldn’t have them take you away from me. I would have been devastated. I hurried as fast as I could. To many others got in my way. Didn’t they know better? I had to push them away to get to you and glad I did!

Rolling her shoulders Loreana sighed. “She picked me because of my stubborn attitude.”

I wanted a powerful rider who would not easily be swayed, I did not however expect to be at such odds with our opinions. Never the less I love Mine, and I know I chose well.

- Question for either or both: What are your mains and dreams in life now? Has anything caused them to change from dreams you had in the past?
Furrowing her brows Loreana leaned forward. “Did I not answer this? My dreams haven’t changed. I would like to continue to work on my apprenticeship and become a journeywoman healer.”

- Question for either or both: How do you feel about your current role in life?
Adath rumbled pleasurably at the question. They love me, love me, love me. Of course I am happy with that. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m beautiful, I have beautiful things. I love my life.

Snorting disagreeably Loreana crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like the way women are treated. But then I find it hard to believe many women are satisfied with their roles. I want more”

- Question for either or both: It's quite possible that you will become Weyrmaster/mistress one day. How do you feel about that?
“I had considered that as a possibility, but I’m sure the older gold would surpass me in that regard.” Loreana muttered and took a sip from the glass before her. “I still don’t have enough training in that area I don’t feel ready yet.”

We will do wonders for the Weyr, oh yes!

- Question for either or both: Golds used to more or less rule the Weyr and still do in some other Weyrs. How do you feel about that?
Rule the Weyr, we still do! You just don’t know it. Like puppets on a string.

Loreana gave Adath a sidelong glance. “I don’t mind that Golds don’t run the show. It just means there is more chance for equality among everyone.”

With a hiss Adath turned skyward. Anyone be equal to me! You must be joking. I am the prettiest dragon in the Weyr, I’ll not sully myself with thinking that a green can equal my beauty!

“No one will rival your beauty Adath. You’re safe.”
- Question for rider: Describe your relationship with your dragon.
We disagree on some points and I can't help but feel grateful that Adath does help me see a larger view. Some of the time... when she isn't so concerned with herself that is. There is no way that all dragons are this vain. I love her to death anyway, even if she is so demanding.

- Question for dragon: Describe your relationship with your rider.
She's what I was looking for! A strong willed individual with a mindset of what she wants, where she wants, and how she wants it. She's quick to respond, and is always there to make sure that I get the best treatment. We disagree on some aspects but as long as I am put first I care not.

- Question for either or both: Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Fort traditionalist party?
Loreana leaned forward in the chair a stern look on her face. "You know… this feels an awful lot like someone just looking to judge me for something. As if being straight was a crime… As if they are looking for anything to pin to be as an excuse as to why I shouldn’t be here. Not that I care, I may be traditional in some sense but I keep that to myself. Why can’t people just live the way they want to? Whats so wrong with that? What’s so wrong with people wanting to be a traditionalist as long as they give others the same respect to be well NOT Traditionalists?"

What’s a fort Traditionalist party anyway, Mine? Adath asked curiously.

"I have no idea. Dancing maybe? Though the question does imply there’s something more here than you or I know."

- Question for both: What two things could you not live without? One of these should be meaningful, and one frivolous!
I will not live without Loreanamine.

Blushing the goldrider nodded. "And I cannot live without Adath."

I will not give up my baths with the best oiling.

"My knowledge, I value my knowledge almost as much as I do Adath."

- Question for either both: You are both invisible for a day! What will you do?
We would wander the Weyr and listen in. How else would one be able to know what is going on? No one ever tells you anything to your face. And things that are bothering them are always vented to someone they trust that is usually of equal “rank” or “pay” as themselves. How else can one expect to improve the Weyr if communication cannot be passed on where it should. There maybe grievances that need to be attended to. And the possibility most of all. Studying some more to become a healer.

THE RIDER
Name: Jinneya
Age: 30
Gender: Female
Appearance: At a first glance, Jinneya looks a little too delicate to be a dragonrider. And if she were anything other than a goldrider, no doubt she would be. There’s not a great deal of muscle mass to the woman, whose slender build suggests a great deal of time spent engaged in aerobic exercise and almost none spent doing any sort of heavy lifting. She doesn’t fight Thread or work in dangerous conditions, and most of her work is internal policing; she simply doesn’t have a need for bulk, the way other riders do. Standing on the taller end for a woman at five feet, nine inches, she’s willow, with modest curves and a generally light build. She moves quickly and practically, with long steps despite her frequently-restrictive clothing, and is prone to explosive gesticulation when she’s upset.

She’s fair-skinned and terribly prone to burning in strong sunlight, with light blue-grey eyes and strawberry-blonde hair that gets a little bit redder in the winter, a little blonder in the summer. She’s somewhat more practical than she is vain, and though she has certainly taken the time to grow her hair out (she never exactly forgave the Weyr for shaving her head during Candidacy), she’s practical enough to keep it cut just below collarbone-length. It’s pin-straight as it is, and frankly, she just can’t imagine trying to make it do anything other than puff up into a mess of static during the winter. She wears it up, mostly, loose buns and messy braids, anything to keep it out of her face. When she wears it down, it does accentuate her features: sharp cheekbones and a square jaw, pointed chin, and full, arched brows. She smiles as much as she frowns, and lines are just starting around her eyes, mouth, and forehead. She’s somewhat anxious about that.

It goes without saying that a majority of female riders would take the opportunity given to them to eschew traditional feminine garb in favor of riders’ clothing that allows more freedom of movement. Jinneya, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind tradition. In fact, she seems to embrace at least that aspect of it, draping herself in long skirts and standard women’s clothing. She might wear her skirts kilted up to work, but she’s simply more comfortable in a dress than anything else – unless she’s in private. Then, she’s significantly more casual: a chemise and a comfortable pair of breeches, or sometimes (in intimate company) even just a long man’s shirt belted at the waist. In her own weyr, she goes barefoot almost constantly. She tends to dress in either monochrome – particularly warmer shades of grey and undyed cotton – or bright colors, with a specific fondness for blues and yellows.

Personality: Honestly, nothing about being a goldrider bothers Jinneya in any way. It doesn’t confer the power it used to, but there’s still a sort of mysticism about the position, a kind of general fascination with golds that she wears like a comfortable pair of gloves. She moves through the Weyr like she was born to rule it – and the fact that she has no real power, and that all of it goes to bronzes – doesn’t seem to reach her. Of course, she knows she can’t simply boss people because of her dragon’s color (or, well, she pays lip service to that idea, even as she gets up in the face of anyone she’s currently trying to boss), but there’s something about the way she acts that implies she’s prepared to be obeyed, anyway. It doesn’t endear her to others, particularly people in positions of actual power. She rarely acknowledges that.

If there’s one thing that really gets under her skin, though, it’s the implication that she can’t do something. Whether it’s because she’s a goldrider or because she’s a woman, neither patronization nor condescension will do anything but put a person straight into Jinneya’s burn book. She’s viciously determined, particularly in the face of any assertions that she isn’t capable of one thing or another, and if she has to stop everything she’s doing and work herself to the bone for three weeks to prove someone wrong, then Faranth send it all between, she will do that. It’s a ferocious degree of girl power, a determination she shares immediately and willingly with other female riders. She might not be in a fighting wing herself, but Jinneya is incredibly supportive of her fellow female riders, lobbying brightly and loudly for women in further positions of power. She blatantly and unashamedly favors women, taking only female squires (when she has to) and in general making every effort to help set girls up to excel.

About that squire thing, though – Jinneya doesn’t actually like having a squire. She’s a little too type-A, a little too aggressively organized to enjoy some new pair of hands bumbling into her work. She doesn’t actually like teaching other people about the system she has set up – not out of any real desire for exclusivity (at least not one she’ll admit out loud), but because she just doesn’t have the time or the patience to teach things. She was never a good instructor, and even when she was working with the Candidatemaster, it was in an administrative position. She’s great at lists and keeping track of things...and not so great about working with people. She’s also not particularly great at taking orders; she does things the way she wants to and despises being told to change her methods. She does things because they work, and honestly, she doesn’t have time to change things up just because someone doesn’t like the way she does her paperwork!

Particularly since she’s...rather proud about that paperwork. If there’s one thing Jinneya does well, it’s filing. She organizes things like she was born to do it, and is maybe just a little too excited about the prospect of becoming Weyrmaster or perhaps even Headwoman someday. It’s not that she doesn’t love her dragon or working with the Weyr, because she does, but Jinneya’s true calling was never combat, and it certainly wasn’t Threadfighting. She’s great with a roster and a list, though, and given her druthers will merrily organize the lives of anyone and everyone who gets too close to her. It’s like a black hole of administrative assistant; don’t leave paperwork out where she can see it, because she might very well do it for you. Possibly without telling anyone she’s done it.

Outside of the paperwork, though, there’s something in Jinneya that more or less makes it obvious she was raised in luxury. She’s a little spoiled and more than a little classist, with a terrible tendency to dismiss drudges and a generally conservative view of the actual class system on Pern. She’ll be the first to admit that heredity doesn’t mean quality, but as far as she’s concerned, anyone can work hard and raise themselves out of poverty; she’s a little unaware of the systemic oppression that keeps drudges drudges and Lord Holders Lord Holders. It’s privilege-blindness. That said, she’s generally quite friendly to everyone; for the most part, she speaks softly and is always ready with a friendly word for anyone who does a good job – be they drudge or squire or weyrling. She genuinely likes people.

Except that her thoughts on men are...a little complicated. In general, Jinneya doesn’t think any less of men than she does of women, but on a practical level, she tends to be suspicious of them. She’s pretty aware of how much of an old boys’ club High Reaches is, particularly having Impressed at Igen, and has some Big Dreams about gender-equality. Still, she tries not to let her personal feelings get in the way of her professional relationships, though she’ll be the first to admit that she’s not exactly the best at refraining from taking her work home. Occasionally, her crushes color her objectivity, and she’d be the first to admit this. Notably, she hates babies. She loves dragons, but small humans bewilder her (how are you supposed to act around them?) and she absolutely abhors the idea of having to take time away from her own work for the sake of incubating someone’s little one. So she dotes on her dragon, her dragon’s babies, and her dragon’s baby’s babies instead.

Lycasteth is her crucial blind spot. In many ways, it’s like Jinneya never completely noticed that her baby girl grew up; she has a tendency to mother-hen the gold, and a terrible propensity to give in to Lycasteth’s unreasonable demands or turn a blind eye to her awful behavior. Oh, certainly, she’s aware that her dragon is spoiled rotten, but Jinneya has a devil of a time saying no to anything her precious girl asks for. If she had been in possession of better willpower, after all, Lycasteth would never have turned into a spoiled brat in the first place. Still, Jinneya’s at least aware that she made some unfortunate, crucial mistakes in her dragon’s upbringing, and has been working little by little to correct them. It has led to more than one fight with her dragon, particularly as the years go on and she becomes less and less willing to tolerate tantrums. It was easier to excuse when she was a weyrling, or a new mother. Nowadays, it’s beginning to grate, and Jinneya doesn’t always have the patience to deal sweetly with Lycasteth.

Not that their relationship has always been sunshine and daisies; when Jinneya snaps, she’s loud – she’s a screamer in tense situations, with a horrible knack for raising and pitching her voice in such a way that it drowns out any possible opposition. She’s screamed her dragon down before and isn’t afraid to get a little physical; more than one occasion has seen her physically holding Lycasteth’s head in place and making eye-contact until the gold acquiesces. She might be a mother hen to the gold, but she’s still the boss in the relationship. Not Lycasteth. But even as she acknowledges and corrects her dragon’s bad behavior, she’s always ready to pick a fight with anyone else who insults Lycasteth. That’s her business to deal with. Not anyone else’s.

She doesn’t fight physically – she actually abhors violence (no doubt another reason she never quite managed to net a fighting dragon) – but she has a quick temper and an absolutely ruthless tongue. She doesn’t hesitate to go for barbed insults, and will hit (verbally) below the belt given half a chance. Luckily, she rarely turns that particular brand of vitriol on other people, preferring banter and the occasional bout of passive-aggression.

History: Jinneya was born into privilege, and she would be the absolute first to acknowledge that. The second child (and only daughter) of a Hold Steward under High Reaches’ jurisdiction, she was blessed to grow up in a family rich enough that it could afford to ignore certain key aspects of society as they saw fit. Forward-thinking for High Reaches folk, both Steward Konney and his wife Jinnara were of the mind that since they had the means, there was no reason to deny any of their little ones a good chance at life – not even the girlchild Jinnara had just brought forth. There was never a single qualm about how little Jinneya would grow up, no immediate scramble to foster her on someone because she cluttered the patrilineal succession; she was the second child and thus destined for a crafthall, simple as that. Her elder brother Konjin would take his father’s position when he retired, and someday when she was a proper Harper, Jinneya would take a husband.

For her youth, however, Jinneya was raised quite similarly to her brother. With only a turn’s difference in age between them, the pair were nigh-inseparable from the start, throwing themselves into childish mischief with all the enthusiasm a pair of little ones could manage. Admittedly, this wasn’t much, as both of them were raised a little bit too genteel to get really rough with anything. Still, Jinneya was a bit of a tomboy at her brother’s urging, wearing her hair identically to her brother’s and preferring trousers while she was small. And though some of the other men of the Hold shook their heads and muttered about decorum when they saw Konjin and Jinneya hand in hand, looking more like identical twins than brother and sister, no harm seemed to come of it. They took lessons together, learning history and letters from the Hold-Harper, and both were taught basic arithmetic and people skills by their parents.

A third child, a boy named Konnar, was born six turns after Jinneya. His birth left Jinnara sickly and laid-up for several months, and Konney decided immediately that they would not have any more. Three healthy little ones, two of them boys – it was exactly the situation any wealthy man would have wanted. He delighted in all three of his offspring, but was always closest to Jinneya, on whom he doted incessantly. For their part, Jinneya and Konjin stayed distant from Konnar by dint of age, sticking together and only occasionally interacting with the baby when they were forced to.

As the pair grew older and the spectre of puberty loomed over both of them, Jinneya and Konjin were gently distanced from one another. Ten-turn-old Jinneya was made to grow her hair and firmly encouraged into skirts rather than trousers – something she took to like a duck to water, outgrowing her tomboyishness and settling into femininity without missing a beat. Konjin began instruction in the more involved aspects of his father’s Stewardship, while Jinneya was shepherded into classes on embroidery and history and encouraged to consider an apprenticeship as a Weaver or Harper. The physical changes didn’t seem to bother the pair, but the differences in classes did. Konjin was less interested in logistics than he was in ballads, and learned gitar and fiddle much faster than Jinneya, who could do complicated arithmetic in her head and always seemed to know who was coming and going from the Hold.

It didn’t escape their parents’ notice, though both hoped they would grow out of it with time. They didn’t. Three turns later, Konjin, aged fourteen, stole a chunk of his inheritance and fled to Harper Hall to apprentice. Konney was furious, but Jinnara managed to talk him down slowly. It had always been their intent to send one to the Harper Hall, she pointed out, and he still had two bright children. Konnar, then aged seven, was already learning just as rapidly as his siblings had, and Jinneya had given no indication that she was planning to hare off any time soon. Though Konney fumed for nearly a month, he had to admit that his wife had a point. Jinneya had always been better at it, anyway, and though there was little precedent for a female Steward, he had no doubt he could raise her up properly and give her the skills she would need to aid her little brother.

Jinneya bristled at the idea that she wasn’t going to be groomed exclusively for heirship, but she wasn’t surprised. She was old enough to recognize the culture of the time, and her father was already much more openminded than the families of the maid girls and other young women she socialized with. She was being taught a trade, not just household duties, and that was more than could be said for others. And besides, she liked the instruction. If the intent was to keep her in her family’s household so she could work as a Steward from Konnar’s right hand, that was fine. She could do it easily enough. She threw herself seriously into her lessons, avidly absorbing everything her father wanted to teach her and helping Konnar with his own lessons. She only grew closer to Konney during this time, and by her sixteenth nameday, the Steward was occasionally remarking that perhaps it wouldn’t be so strange to have a female Steward after all. It had solidified into a genuine possibility by the time Jinneya was very near seventeen.

And then she was Searched.

It was mostly accident: Jinneya taking her eleven-turn-old brother to watch the dragons, getting swept into a line-up, and finding herself face-to-nose with a handsome blue dragon. He breathed hotly all over Jinneya’s face, and then trilled at his rider, who announced that she would make a fine Candidate. Jinneya was dumbstruck. Impression had never occurred to her, and though she had never considered herself a rider, it was technically her birthright to be given to the Weyr. For his part, Konney was...less than pleased. The idea that he might lose his daughter to dragons was troubling, particularly since Jinneya had long since become his favorite child. But at the same time, it was her right, and it would be...politically advantageous to name a male successor. Konnar was capable of doing the job. So instead of saying no, Konney asked Jinneya if she wanted to go.

She said yes and found herself bundled off to the Weyr with little ceremony beyond hugs goodbye.

She was, it turned out, drastically underprepared for the life of a Candidate. As someone who had managed to avoid a great deal of physical labor – and as a young woman coming from a fair amount of physical wealth – Jinneya was not ready for the first turn of Candidacy. The sudden onset of hard work shook her, at first, but Jinneya wasn’t one given to abandoning positions, and though she complained incessantly about it to her fellow Candidates when the backs of the Masters were turned, she obeyed commands and threw herself into her chores with determination. It was hard work, and she disliked most of it, but out of stubbornness and sheer determination, she stuck it out. She learned to fight – which she hated – and learned the history of the Weyr – which she loved. Every brief glimpse into the internal goings-on of the dragonriders fascinated her.

The dragons themselves fascinated her, too. There was something almost magical about them, and Jinneya never got tired of watching them. With no eggs on the Sands in her first turn at the Weyr, she was unable to watch a clutch, and there were no weyrlings to interact with. Still, she kept her hopes up. Candidacy continued to age twenty, and she hadn’t yet turned eighteen. Besides, she had a turn as a squire to go before she was even properly allowed to Stand. She dreaded that, of course – so many of the dragonriders she had met were hard people, combatant and obviously mostly uninterested in girlchildren – but she kept on, out of a desire to Impress or sheer stubbornness, she doesn’t quite know.

As luck would have it, none of those combatant riders even wanted her – Jinneya was capable of performing physically, yes, but it was obvious that the girl was still soft inside, and most of First and Second Wings had better things to do than try to teach a spoiled teenager how to be a proper warrior. Instead, her head for arithmetic drew the attention of a bluerider from the first branch of Fifth Wing. Allai was a quiet woman with little to no sense of humor but an intense sense of duty, and whether she saw a kindred spirit in Jinneya or just desperately wanted someone she could foist paperwork off on, Jinneya never quite knew. But they got on well enough; Jinneya wasn’t so loud as to distract Allai, and Allai was remarkably willing to instruct her pupil of the goings-on in the Weyr. The relationship grew fond over the first turn they worked together, and when Severeth clutched, Allai sent Jinneya onto the Sands only reluctantly.

She didn’t Impress – and both Allai and Jinneya found themselves relieved – though Allai teased that it was just because she hated the possibility of having to teach another Candidate how to file reports properly. And so another turn of paperwork passed.

It stuttered to a halt when plague came to High Reaches, striking Allai’s blue Wimsyth down and nearly killing the pair of them. In the interest of not traumatizing a Candidate should her Master die, Jinneya was rapidly reassigned a different Fifth Wing rider. It was traumatic anyway. Dragonplague was her first major brush with adversity, throwing Jinneya headlong into an epidemic of death and misery that she hadn’t been prepared to deal with. Terrified that Allai was going to die and further terrified that she had been reassigned just in time to age out, she all but panicked while her first squiremaster recovered and her second spent all his time grounded, unwilling to perform his courier work for fear of contracting the plague himself. When Hiraeth began to glow and Candidates were asked to volunteer to accompany the gold to Igen, Jinneya volunteered practically on a whim, unsure of what else to do. It was a chance to get out of the insanity of plague-ridden High Reaches and take time to breathe. It also gave her the chance to see Igen, and get a taste of what life was like in a Weyr with full equality. She remembers it clearly, even now.

She also remembers the Hatching as chaos. In truth, it was mostly the doing of a single bronze and a mess of maulings, and it’s likely that Jinneya’s memory of the situation as dire is more than a little exaggerated, no matter what she might privately believe (or insist, when people ask her!). Still, she was dramatically unprepared for the inevitabilities of a proper Hatching – much less an emergency Hatching in the Igen desert. Truthfully, the Hatching was par for the course for how chaotic the situation itself was, since the atypical location, plague, and nerves of everyone surrounding it no doubt fed into the hatchlings’ minds and turned the event bloody. Certainly, Lycasteth herself was barely more than a little bit snappish. It just happened that Jinneya, plagued by confusion and second thoughts and anxiety over the rampaging bronze, let nerves get the better of her when she saw the hatchling gold screech and sink teeth into another Candidate’s leg.

When, less than a minute later, the gold collapsed in a heap at her feet, looked up at her, and huffed, Oh. Yes. Good. You’ll work, she barely believed it. Twenty turns old, prepared to age out, ready to head back home to her father, and a (literal) golden opportunity had (almost literally) fallen into her lap. The letter home was hard to write; in the back of Jinneya’s head, Candidacy had always been an interesting diversion, something she had done for the sake of experience, not because she expected it to play out in any major way. She had always, deep down inside, expected it to be finite, not the beginning of a new life. So the sudden reality of the situation hit her hard, and though the blow was softened somewhat by the fact that it had been delivered by a burnished golden dragonet who was somehow simultaneously pudgy and lanky, she was not immediately ready to face the consequences. She cried herself to sleep the first night in the Weyrling barracks – not because she regretted her decision, but out of mourning for a life she hadn’t been wholly ready to give up.

She knew from day one she would not be eliding her name. Everything else came more slowly.

Adjusting to the Weyr after Impressing at Igen, after getting that taste of liberty, was somewhat difficult for Jinneya, but she had more important things to worry about than whether or not she would be allowed to be Weyrleader someday. Among other things, her dragon was monstrously fussy, to a degree that she noticed most hatchlings weren’t, and despite the entreaties of the Weyrlingmaster and others not to spoil Lycasteth, she found herself indulging the little queen’s every whim. It wasn’t a good way to start, but Jinneya was powerful enough that she never had a conflict of wills with her own dragon. With other people, certainly. But not with Lycasteth. Her first three turns with the little gold were rocky, at times, but there was something liberating about knowing they would be safe from Threadfall. Originally, Jinneya had intended to join Fifth Wing, should she have Impressed. Instead, she was freed from having to join a wing at all. It gave her free time.

Lycasteth’s first Flight garnered a gold egg, and Jinneya couldn’t have been prouder. The desperate scramble to rebuild the dragon population before the return of Thread had been pushed just a little bit further forward. She celebrated Lycasteth’s new daughter just as loudly as everyone else.

From there, it was simply a matter of keeping busy. Assist the Candidatemaster for a few turns. Take a break as Lycasteth Rose and clutched again – no gold this time. Assist the Candidatemaster again. Lycasteth’s daughter had her first clutch, and Jinneya found herself fondly thinking of them as her own grandchildren. The beginning of Threadfall, from which she and her dragon were mercifully protected. Lycasteth Rose again, that first turn of Thread – and again, no gold. But it mattered little to the pair of them. Jinneya began to cast her eye toward the Headwoman position, and fell into a rhythm of assisting On’ya whenever possible. Her eye is on greater prizes than she currently holds, but she’s patient. And she’s willing to work sharding hard to get what she wants.

THE DRAGON
Name: Lycasteth
Age: 10
Colour: Gold
Feel of voice: Rapidly beating insect wings, a high tremolo note on flute, the patter of rainfall against glass, bitter woodsmoke in the back of your throat
Appearance: Lycasteth is stunningly, gorgeously graceful in the air. With a sleek, streamlined body, all gentle swooping curves, and long tapered wings like a seabird’s, she isn’t suited for quick movements or agility, but she can soar for hours with almost no exertion at all. She’s long at about forty-four and a half feet all told, most of that neck and tail, with a slender build that makes her look much more slender than she is...right up until she’s on the ground. Then, her unusually-short legs and peculiar, scrambling gait become apparent. She’s vain about this, and does everything she can to avoid walking anywhere.

In terms of hide, Lycasteth isn’t exactly eye-catching. Sure, she’s large and metallic, drawing the same amount of attention that any gold would, but that’s about the extent of her appeal. Her overall color is a warm, buttery pale gold, uniform over all of her body except her head, which is a slightly darker, richer yellow-gold marked with a vibrant burnt-orange mask.

Personality: It would be shockingly easy to sum up Lycasteth in two words, and those words would be spoiled brat.

It’s really too bad. In the hands of someone who might have been less of a pushover with her, she might have grown up commanding rather than imperious and confident rather than arrogant, but Lycasteth is simply far too accustomed to getting what she wants whenever she demands it to be a particularly good dragon. She’s agreeable enough, particularly in the face of praise or nonthreatening others, and for the most part, she’s perfectly willing to lounge indulgently someplace conspicuous and watch other dragons come and go with as much hauteur as possible. And honestly, it’s not even that she’s condescending – when she doesn’t want something, she gets along extremely well with others, both human and dragon. It’s only when she wants something that the claws really start to come out and the kind of dragon Lycasteth is really comes to the forefront.

Because unfortunately, Lycasteth is both needy and a whiner. It’s frustrating, to put it mildly: she demands that her needs be met immediately, whether it’s hunger or itchiness or simply a desire to be elsewhere, and when denied it, becomes quick to whine. This might once upon a time have been harmless, perhaps even endearing for a day or so, but it has long since devolved into a habit that’s irritating at best, infuriating at worst. Reactions to denial of instant gratification (even in the face of delayed gratification – Lycasteth isn’t good at long-term planning, and doesn’t seem to understand the concept of “not right now, but later”) range from whining mentally to Jinneya, to throwing actual, dragon-sized tantrums, complete with bellowing and wing-thrashing. The latter is rare, cropping up mostly when she’s proddy, and Jinneya doesn’t tolerate them.

In fact, it’s one of the few times that Lycasteth and Jinneya really fight; Lycasteth hates being told no, and Jinneya can’t tolerate her dragon making a scene. Their first fights, when they were weyrlings, quickly became the stuff of long memory; you don’t soon forget an irritable, sleep-deprived twentysomething screaming at a gold dragonet while the little queen shrieks back. Luckily, the meltdowns have become less as she has grown, and though Lycasteth will still grumble and whine and sulk (loudly), she recognizes That Tone of Voice and tries not to cross Jinneya.

She is, perhaps unsurprisingly, remarkably high-strung. Routine is important to the gold, who has a shorter memory than many of her counterparts, and relies on familiarity to ease her through situations that she might suddenly find unfamiliar. She dislikes physical contact from anyone other than Jinneya, and holds a general disdain for humans. Hands other than her rider’s are unwelcome and frequently elicit shrieks – on one occasion a healer touching her in an examination while she was gravid all but elicited a dragon-tantrum until Jinneya grabbed her by the headknobs and gave her what-for. But for all that she’s un-fond of two-leggers, Lycasteth loves other dragons. Or, perhaps more accurately, she loves their business. She’s nosy and a gossip, quick to stick herself into business even when she doesn’t belong (especially when she doesn’t belong) and absolutely loves keeping an eye on drama as it unfolds.

It’s given her an eye for detail and a nose for secrets that Jinneya frequently taps into for her own uses. Lycasteth might not want to be involved in human affairs, but the suggestion that watching a certain person will garner fascinating new gossip is a quick way to her heart. She’s grown adept at using Jinneya for data storage over the years, deftly plucking names and memories from her rider’s head whenever it suits her.

And, perhaps a little strangely for a queen, she hates children and hatchlings. The former is an extension of her rider’s distaste – at some point, she picked up on the fact that Jinneya hates babies – but the latter is a hundred percent her own doing. It’s simply that baby dragons don’t interest Lycasteth, not any more than whers or canines do. That said, she is ferocious about her own clutches and will protect the eggs she has laid with all that ferocious drama she’s so capable of mustering at a moment’s notice. Even as she complains that she’s not getting enough food and the Sands are too hot. Delicate flowers will be delicate flowers, after all.

THE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS

- Question for rider: What were your aims in life, your dreams for the future, before you Impressed?

I was in training to take over my father’s position as Steward of the hold. It was supposed to go to my older brother Konjin, but he decided to run off and become a Harper, so I was the next in line, and Father wasn’t thrilled, but it turned out I was quite good at it and I was actually a lot happier doing it than I think Konjin would have been. So honestly it was working out fine. And then I was Searched, of course, and Father didn’t like it all that much – but I was the second child, so Impression was my birthright, and I did have a little brother who could take my place. And honestly a boy in that position was better politically, so I suppose it all worked out in the end. And Konnar’s doing quite well as Father’s second-in-command now, so!

- Question for either or both: Describe your Impression.

[laughs] Oh, Faranth help me, I was terrified! Out in the desert in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by half strangers, I was regretting ever having volunteered just about the second I stepped onto the Sands. Ha, that sounds stupid now, doesn’t it? But I’m not usually adventurous so I’m not sure why I had even volunteered, except that once you’re Searched, it just seems completely crazy not to actually attend Hatchings! And I was so close to aging out. Honestly, I’m not sure what I thought would happen. I mostly remember it being hot and incredibly scary.

I mean, we were out there in the desert with no idea how that was going to affect the eggs, because we didn’t want to catch plague – Faranth, bear in mind that this was a precaution against dragonplague, too. Like, there was a very real chance that anyone who Impressed was going to end up losing their dragon later, and that was scary, too, because once you’ve seen a dragonless person –

You’re rambling.

I am not!

But you are. Tell your story better.

...Fine, bossy-pants. [laughs] Anyway, Hiraeth had been ill and gotten better, so there was a good chance there might be something odd with the eggs, or that the babies weren’t going to be well – or at least, that was the rumor. And I was scared. I don’t do well with violence, and there are always at least a few maulings in clutches, and we were in the middle of nowhere. When the eggs started hatching, Faranth help me, I started shaking and I must have looked so stupid but I really still wasn’t prepared for that, to be honest. I had been Searched when I was seventeen, so I hadn’t seen many Hatchings, just one from Severeth, and someone got really mauled in that one – and then there was this bronze on the Sands before Lycasteth Hatched, and he was starting trouble, so yeah, I guess I was scared. And then Lycasteth’s egg broke, and everyone was so excited about the gold –

As they should have been!

Of course, dear. So some of the girls – mostly, it’s girls who get excited about golds, I don’t know why, I guess because some places are still really traditional about it? – started getting a little closer and when she came to the Candidates her eyes got weird. Like yellow, kind of.

I don’t like strangers in my space!

So anyway, someone – I don’t remember if it was a boy or a girl – touched her and she bit them and that started this terrible mess and someone screamed, I remember someone screaming, because obviously, you can’t have a Hatching in the middle of a strange desert without chaos everywhere, right? So here I am, scared out of my wits, and then this stupid sharding dragon with her eyes all red-yellow comes crashing out of this tangle of legs, trips over someone, tears a huge hole through some poor girl’s robe and leaves her entire backside just exposed, and lands screeching at my feet! And it’s so funny now – yes, I know – funny, right? But I thought I was going to die. I honestly thought I was going to die. I was halfway through this mental letter to my father, telling him, Daddy, you were right, and I should never have come here, because I’m going to die! and I hear this voice in my head.

You were the right one! You didn’t crowd me or try to touch me without asking! Everyone else was so loud!

How do you even remember that, darling?

...I think it’s in your head. Some of it, anyway.

Maybe. Good girl. But she looks at me, and she says to me, Oh. Yes. Good. You’ll work. And then just flops down upside-down. And, oh Faranth, I started laughing. I laughed so hard I was crying when it finally occurred to me to actually pick her up and get her food. And that was just...well, that was how it started. It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, but it really was a romantic sort of story, I promise!

- Question for either or both: What are your mains and dreams in life now? Has anything caused them to change from dreams you had in the past?

Well, obviously I’m not exactly in a hurry to become a Hold Steward anymore. [laughs] I don’t think a dragon would fit. Right now, though...I’d like to be Headwoman someday. I know that doesn’t seem like much of an ambition for someone who’s so adamant about female riders having the same chances as the men – though what else could I do? We aren’t allowed to fight Thread, and I certainly don’t want to be in a wing – but, well. It was more or less what I was raised for, and I’m good at it. I think I could do all right.

I...don’t know. Are dragons supposed to have dreams like that? Is it a human thing? Someday I will be senior queen. That’s enough.

- Question for either or both: How do you feel about your current role in life?

Honestly, I could be happier. I...don’t really like being relegated to little things, and I don’t like other people being in charge of me much. It’s not that I won’t do it, but I guess I’m a bit of a “rule from the shadows” kind of woman – my family’s been Stewards as long as we can remember, so it’s in the blood [laughs] – and I’d like to have a bit more clout, a bit more room to maybe subtly influence policy. But that makes me sound like a villain, doesn’t it? Really, though, I’d be happier if I had more to do that wasn’t so...rote. It can grate on you, being pushed to the back because you’re too valuable or whatever.

I am gold, but I’m not the senior gold. I don’t have to worry about bossing other dragons much, and I don’t have to work much, either. There’s not much I can complain about!

- Question for either or both: It's quite possible that you will become Weyrmistress one day. How do you feel about that?

Frankly, I’m excited. Obviously, I can’t prove that I’m going to be the next Weyrmaster, but I would love a crack at it, and would be perfectly happy to do it until I couldn’t anymore. It’s the sort of thing that I enjoy, but it’s also the sort of thing I’m good at. And of course, I know it’s not much of a job and that I’d probably still be doing something else – like I mentioned, I’ve got my eye on Headwoman – but internal policy is interesting, isn’t it?

It’s my birthright. Someday I will be senior queen, and then Jinneya will be Weyrmistress. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

- Question for either or both: Golds used to more or less rule the Weyr and still do in some other Weyrs. How do you feel about that?

I’d like to say that the idea’s obviously a superior one and things would be infinitely better if that were still the case, but I’ll be honest – what I mean when I say that is that I think the Weyr would be a better place if I ran it, not goldriders in general. I mean, when there’s no rhyme or reason to how dragons Impress, it’s inevitable that you’ll have just as many qualified as unqualified people on any given color. Maybe a little biased when it comes to golds, since there are so few of them...oh, I’m rambling. But anyway, I think I’d do a pretty good job running a Weyr, but that doesn’t mean I think everyone with a shiny dragon would.

Of course golds ruled the Weyr! We’re meant to! We wouldn’t have been given command if we weren’t supposed to be the most powerful, and all these bronzes who think otherwise have something wrong with their heads!

- Question for rider: Describe your relationship with your dragon.

Lycasteth, sweetheart, would you be a dear and to our weyr and fetch me down my – ah – oh, never mind, darling, just stretch your wings for a bit while I talk, all right? Yes, just once around the Bowl, maybe. Just like that, darling.

...And there she goes. Right, let me start off by saying that I love Lycasteth. She’s the other half of my soul and I would literally rather kill myself than be without her. It’s incredibly reassuring to wake up each morning and know she’s there, and that I’ll always have her. And now, let me say that I had no idea that the other half of my soul would be this…high-strung, might be the right word? I adore her, but at times it’s a bit like having a hurricane in my head. And I love her – she’s got such the eye for details, we never miss a thing, really – but she has her moments.

She’s...not good with the word “no,” and she’s really needy sometimes. We fight a little bit about that – I’ve never been a parent, so I didn’t actually know how to keep a little from getting spoiled, and I’m worried I missed my opportunity and spoiled her. But I’m not sure how I could have avoided it. The second I saw her I wanted her to have everything good for the rest of her life. It’s an Impression thing, I guess.

- Question for dragon: Describe your relationship with your rider.

She’s perfect! I wouldn’t have picked less than the best. Clever, sharp, knows how to get what she wants, knows how to get me what I want...and by human standards, I think, she’s pretty? Also she’s bossy and when she’s upset, she gets frightening, which I think is a good thing, even if it embarrasses her. It means people listen to her! She’s good at being listened to.

I suppose we mostly clash when she tells me no. I don’t like being told no, and, well...I suppose sometimes I ask for a lot – but it’s not because I’m bossy the way she is, I just – I have needs. I, ah. I don’t like it when things don’t go my way, but apparently we get shouted at when I use my Command, so...sometimes we fight about it. It’s complicated. I do love her, though! She does so much for me!

- Question for either or both: Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Fort traditionalist party?

What? No. [dismissive snort] I don’t have time for old men telling me what I can and can’t do. I’ve got too much of that in my daily life to bother with it more! Frankly, I like the way Igen does it – they really did make a mistake sending me over there to Impress. Once you get a taste of that, you want more of it. Golds don’t have as much clout anymore, but High Reaches is more traditional than I think it wants to let on. When Lycasteth is Senior, we’ll actually have a little room to maneuver, and a little more power. I’d like to get some better bronzeriders in charge and go from there.

Is that some kind of human thing? It sounds like more rules. I don’t like human rules. They make everything so difficult!

- Question for both: What two things could you not live without? One of these should be meaningful, and one frivolous!

Ha. Well. I guess Lycasteth is the first thing that comes to mind that I couldn’t live without, but that’s...I literally couldn’t live without her, so maybe something else? I’d go crazy without work to do, so I guess that would be the one thing. I’d need a job. It wouldn’t have to be organizing, but I’m not really a ‘heavy lifting’ type, so...yeah, I guess it’d be paperwork. Paperwork and my dragon?

And maybe a comb. Is that vain? It’s probably vain. And it was three things. [shrugs]

Is Jinneya a given? Yes? Okay. In that case, herdbeasts. I couldn’t do without herdbeasts. And...oil. Does it have to be two? Can it be more than two? Because soapsand, and my brush, and then a lot of space to lie down where no one gets too close to me...why can I only pick two? That’s not fair! I need more than two things to live!

- Question for either both: You are both invisible for a day! What will you do?

Hmm. Probably I would just take a day off. Sleep in, take a long bath, relax...read...I have no time to read, really, I’d like to be able to do more of that. And I’d hide from people trying to foist squires off on me. I don’t want them! What am I supposed to do with them!?

I would eat all the herdbeasts I wanted because no one could stop me. Then I would go lie down somewhere that no one could find me and take a long nap without anyone loud getting too close to me.

Jr. Gold 1
THE RIDER
Name: Shylla
Age: 27
Gender: Female

Appearance: The first word that comes to mind when looking at Shylla is soft, from the round shape of her face to the gentle curvature of her legs. Short and pear-shaped in build, she is neither particularly toned nor flabby, carrying some extra weight in her thighs but otherwise trim. Her hair is the brown of tanned leather and curls with a texture like soft-spun wool, usually corded into a fat braid that brushes her shoulders. Her dark brown eyes are dewey and calf-like, with long lashes and downturned lids that complement her button nose and pouty lips. Gratuitous freckles spatter her face and arms, and her skin is a light tawny brown that brands her as a 'generic Pernese mutt'.

Her outfits are generally practical and muted in color, certainly plain by any riders standards, and even on her off days she prefers the freedom afforded by pants. The material of her clothing is often rough-spun and well-worn, and several of her more casual tunics are pretty severely patched up. Shylla does keep one fine-spun garment for special occasions or appearances in front of more delicate folk, but it's generally only seen at Gathers.

Personality:

Shylla is many things, but she is not the type to stand still. Steady work has been a part of her daily routine for as long as she can remember, and she is most fulfilled by the sense of accomplishment in a job well done. In spite of her soft appearance, she's not the sort to fear getting dirty, and especially before her dragonriding days it wasn't uncommon to see her entirely covered in dirt after a particularly hard line of duties. She takes to group projects with ease and leads by example, willing to work with anyone willing to learn. Likewise, she has little tolerance for willful ignorance or laziness, and the unfortunate weyrbrat that shows her such traits is likely to get an earful. Shylla never fears the consequence of putting something indelicately, and hers is a tough sort of love. Nevertheless, it's love for her weyr and its inhabitants that drives her fervent work ethic, and whenever she can it's a virtue she tries to pass on to the next generation.

Being born in High Reaches, Shylla has an almost complete understanding of the entire stronghold, from the Lower Caverns to the Weyrwoman's private quarters. A curious streak in her youth led to plenty of self-driven exploration, and even as an adult she is naturally inquisitive about the world around her and is quick to notice something different. Her comfort in her home exudes as a naturally infectious warmth and confidence, but it's sadly an attitude she can sport only when on her own ground. When visiting other weyrs or holds, Shylla is quick to shell up, following the lead of others who seem to know more of the happenings of the current region. For this reason, Shylla is unlikely to ever transfer except by direct orders, as being home makes a huge impact on her capacity to lead and work.

Her soft spot is children, especially the bands of weyrbrats hailing from the creche, and while she's not likely to spare them any of their chores, she is quick to toss a roaming child an extra sweetroll at the end of the day. She has a habit of adopting favorites from day to day, but overall she has a soft heart and open arms for any child in need, even if the need is a stern talking-to about the importance of diligence in the workplace. Shylla has a strong protective instinct, and the moment she feels like any of hers are threatened she throws herself onto the frontlines, championing their cause before she has a chance to hear any context behind the situation. It's gotten her in trouble more than a few times, where she's defended someone who rightfully needed to be punished, but the goldrider maintains an attitude of 'innocent until proven guilty' and is still quick to rush to anyone's aid.

At the end of the day, Shylla is only as effective as she feels she's in control, and the less able she is to contribute to the situation the more erratic and moody her behavior becomes. She fears being helpless as well as the unknown, and when pressured into such corners she has been known to lash out at people in what she perceives as self-defense. This tendency to put her heart on her sleeve leaves her ill-suited for any sort of high pressure leadership role, but in recent years she has worked to curb her behaviors in case she's ever to sit in a position of authority.

History:

As a weyrbrat from High Reaches, Shylla's parentage has never been perfectly clear. Born during the famines, she was one of many orphaned, and shuffled from wet nurse to wet nurse until she could be weaned. Some of the more elderly matrons of the caverns would swear she was the lovechild of a blue-rider and an unknown paramour, while others claim she was the child of a drudge who succumbed to famine, but as far as the goldrider is concerned these are nothing more than rumors and empty myths. From her earliest memories she was housed in the creche and it was there that she flourished as a mischevious child that took to climbing and finding hidden caverns. She was quick to acquire friends through her playful antics and warm personality, especially amongst the younger children who were less likely to argue her methods. Through her early years she was provided the opportunity to explore, given all her duties were done, but at the age of 8 she led a group of her peers too far into an unsafe portion of the lower caverns, where a little playful roughhousing led to a minor cave-in and a couple of bruised weyrbrats. No one was seriously wounded, but nevertheless Shylla was placed under specific care to ensure she was properly watched and kept out of the caverns.

Reluctantly, Shylla was fostered under Caretaker Briggan, a stern woman with an eye for discipline and order. The girl's studies were doubled, as were her chores, but when she had the time she was still permitted the chance to play in the creche, rare as these opportunities were. More often than not, she was recruited to help corral the younger ones and keep them on track with their studies, acting as something of a teacher's aide. She took to the role fervently, as it offered her a chance to tend to her self-claimed flock of toddlers again (albeit under supervision herself). Under Briggan's watchful gaze Shylla played at being teacher and administrator for her little band of weyrbrats, making up mock chores and scolding them for laziness the way she'd been almost a hundred times. However, her games of house shifted when a trio of older weyrbrats she had grown up with aged into Candidacy and subsequently Impressed to two greens and a blue. Now, she imagined weyrling chores for her young ones, having them mime scrubbing dragon hide and learning combat and even flight. While not a particularly fanciful child, she began to envision a day where she, too, could sit at the rider's tables and drink klah with serious faces and discuss 'important events'. With this in mind, she began to try trailing her favorite trio of weyrlings whenever she could, a self-envisioned squire to the squires. Most of her efforts were squashed by Briggan before she could even sneak away, but once or twice she made it all the way to the barracks themselves before getting shooed back to the Caverns.

A day came when the weyrlings she so idolized never came home. Twenty-three was the total number of names stricken from the records in a single day, but Shylla's focus was on the three, the ones who had been so tangible in one moment and gone the next, as if they had Betweened and stayed there. None of hers survived, and it was a devastating moment for the tween. Dragonriders were supposed to be noble protecters, and if they were lost it was to fighting Thread, not some needless display of violence. When her time came, she shaved her head and entered Candidacy herself, but her efforts lacked their initial fervor. At night, she dreamed of the monsters who took her trio away, and it wore away at her desire to be bonded with a dragon. Why should she want such a thing for herself, when she would be made the target of such horrible men? Dying to thread was a matter of course, but to blades, arrows? Understandably, she stood for two hatchings unmatched, any particular hatchling off-put by the unsightly fear in her mind.

In the meanwhile, she squired for brownrider A'ril, a woman with a soft heart and a motherly touch. She made sure that Shylla took the time to breathe in between all of her lessons, and once she got the girl to open up with her concerns she provided gentle counsel. Over time and her talks with A'ril, she began to reconsider her position as a candidate at all, but before she had the chance to consider another craft her world was flipped upside down again. Plague was the word of the turn, and before her eyes she saw the downfall of entire wings, a sadness of which even she had never felt. There was a small beacon of hope, an isolated Queen with a clutch hardening on the Sands, perhaps the last safehold of dragonkind. When the option of travelling for the distant Hatching came to Shylla, she was quick to pull herself from the pool of candidates, feeling that her presence would be a waste. However, looking amongst the crowd agreeing to stand, Shylla saw some of her little weyrbrats, now cleanly shaven and willing to serve their purpose as proper Candidates of High Reaches Weyr. Embarassed by her own behavior, she opted to stand at the last minute, telling herself it was to be beside her weyrbrats once again. A'ril, whose dragon had yet to succumb to the plague, sent her off with a tight hug and a thin smile, telling her all the while how proud she was of the woman Shylla would be.

Shylla had never stood for the Hatching of a gold egg before, and despite her lessons was unprepared for the sheer pressure of it all. This was not her home, these were not the sands she knew, and the gravity of their current situation hang on everyone like a funeral shroud so unbefitting what would normally be a joyous occasion. The stress bore heavy on the newborn dragonets, who squawked and squabbled amongst themselves while combing through the ring of candidates, every so often knocking over a child or goring them in their frantic search. Being female, Shylla had been placed around the gold egg itself with one of her weyrbrats, but it wasn't enough to have one of her own under her wing. She tried to focus on the gold egg, she did, but her eyes kept wondering back to the throng of boys, watching for the rest of her flock with a concerned gaze. If weyrlings were fragile, then candidates were even more so, and all it would take was an errant swipe of those newborn claws to permanently maim someone, or worse. Every so often there would be murmurs of excitement from her own ring, but her focus would not be deterred except to check on the girl beside her. She would have missed the gold's hatching entirely if not for the lamented screech she gave as she tumbled out of her egg, eyes whirling with anxiousness and fear. Shylla, your Evmeth is trying, but they won't calm down! Why won't they calm down? Help me, maybe they'll listen to you! The piping whimper of a voice was certainly enough to capture Shylla's entire attention, and for the first time she let go of her weyrbrat's hand to step forward to the frantic dragonet. Wiping some of the eggshell from the gold's hide, she began to nuzzle Evmeth's eyeridges gently, the same way she'd seen A'ril do dozens of times. Shh, shhhh...we must lead by example, heart. They will follow if you lead. Just breathe, everything is okay. You are here now, everything is okay. Quietly, she led Evmeth from the sands to the feeding tables, and so began a long relationship of comforting woes and nurturing the high-strung gold's anxieties.

The return of the newly-fledged weyrling pair to High Reaches was one of mixed feelings. On one hand, Shylla was eager to return to home and show Evmeth everything she had ever learned, and Evmeth was cautiously anticipating meeting the other adult dragons themselves. However, their return heralded the news that A'ril and her brown had succumbed to the plague in the time since Shylla had lefted, once again tinging a happy occasion with the bitter pangs of grief. Determined to be the woman A'ril had seen before she left, she threw herself into her weyrling studies. While she struggled with most of the abstract academics, she flourished under her administrative duties, particularly working with assistant Weyrlingmaster B'tes and the senior weyrlingmaster. While her weyrmates were chosing wings, she chose to stay behind at the barracks, where Hiraeth's latest clutch had just moved in. Caring for the weyrlings reminded her of caring for the children of the creche, and she took to it naturally. Not long after seeing her first batch of weyrlings to their own graduation, she began to feel the stirrings that her own Evmeth would rise, and prepared herself as best she could. However, nothing could prepare her for the swirl of emotions surrounding Evmeth's first flight, nor waking up the next morning rather cozy with one of her bronze weyrmates. They both agreed that, while fun, neither of them wanted to pursue anything committal, and so they left the one night trist for what it was.

Shylla was pleasantly surprised to find that Evmeth's first clutch bore a gold of her own, to which Evmeth purred about for nearly the entire hardening. The goldrider became particularly interested in the candidates during that time, curious as to who would be the first riders of her dragon's children. She squired one of her favorite Candidates, enlisting them to help with her duties as Weyrlingmaster, and with each passing day her excitement grew. To hear her speak of it with such pride and adoration, one would almost assume that she had clutched the eggs herself. And then, some time in the middle of the night, Evmeth began to hum, and in one fell swoop a new class of weyrlings were born. Shylla worked this lucky bunch to the bone, but she also loved each and every one, learning all of their names and stories. It was something different, watching Evmeth's own brood grow up, especially another fledgling gold who would share her experiences. She watched their graduation with teary eyes, and made sure to congratulate each one individually, no matter their placement. It was just so refreshing to watch her young ones grow and flourish, and before she knew it, she was at it again. The second clutch was goldless but no less precious to Evmeth or her rider, and she treated their training with the same zeal. She worked her weyrlings hard, but she also played hard, celebrating the initial success of their attempts to repopulate.

For a while, everything seemed to be heading back to its natural order, which is about the time First Fall occurred. Several riders from each of Evmeth's clutches lost their lives in the fall, which sent her into a deep state of grieving, even as Evmeth prepared to rise again. When hatched, Shylla treated the third batch of weyrlings more delicately, as if they might break of the pressure of impending Thread. While she learned their faces, their names, she began to fear for them, wondering who would come home after they graduated. Not long after their lessons began, she found she was with child and, combined with her increasing anxiety, was pulled from the barracks to allow herself the time to deliver. It didn't serve to ease her nerves, however, and the further she found herself away from her weyrlings the less capable she felt they would be to fight Thread. The stress began to wear on Evmeth as well, who every now and again would stop in on the weyrlings herself just to check their progress. No matter their accomplishments, nothing was good enough, nothing would prepare them for the horrors, and with each passing day the pair began to collectively panic for their children. Shylla could not bear to watch their graduation: to her, it seemed a funeral. However, the first time they suited up, she couldn't help but want to see them off, and as she saw them begin to take wing for the first time, she went into a panic. Evmeth, feeling the rush of emotions, promptly Commanded all of the newest clutch to stop before they could fly. It was only a moment's lapse before Shylla managed to compose herself, but in that short span of time, wings were disassembled and riders were burned.

Needless to say, she was pulled from weyrling duties indefinitely.

Currently, she has just weaned off her child, and seeks to find her place in the weyr, despite a lack of trust from senior riders who assume that her earlier outburst is likely to happen again.

THE DRAGON
Name: Evmeth
Age: 10
Colour: Gold
Feel of voice: The clutching pangs of nostalgia deep in the pit of your chest, the apprehension of the coming dawn.

Appearance: Evmeth is a pale gold, the color of shimmery champagne from nose to tip. She has eye-spots the color of brass from her lower eyelid to the top of her brow, and a single matching stripe running along her back. Trim for a gold at only 42', she is still nevertheless larger than all but the bulkiest of bronzes, and to see her in flight is not unlike watching a stately barge float down a river. Despite her size, she is a rather active dragon, always in motion in some capacity, whether it be a simple flick of her tail or full-on pacing.

Personality: Are you okay? Are you sure you're okay? Evmeth thinks there is something you would like fixed, regardless of how contented you might seem. A fretful dragon with a colorful imagination, she tends to take Murphy's Law to new and exciting extremes, sure to think of all the ways things could go wrong. It takes all of Shylla's effort to keep the gold calm, and even then she manages to murmur small insecurities now and again.

That's not to say that her entirety is ruled by anxiety: like Shylla, Evmeth is driven by love, and deeply cares for all of her brood with public, sentimental shows of affection. She croons and purrs any time she is near her brood, and if she's not anxious then she's positively giddy. Evmeth's memory is particularly short for a dragon, but she always remembers her brood, and is particularly likely to abandon any other duties in favor of helping one of her clutch.

THE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS

- Question for rider: What were your aims in life, your dreams for the future, before you Impressed?
"I think I was destined for creche-work, truly." Shylla laughs. "Not that my recent work wasn't similar, but I was always meant to care for others."
- Question for either or both: Describe your Impression.
It was loud, and frightening, so frightening, and no one would listen! Everyone felt like sad heartstrings and was scared, and it made me scared, but my Shylla was the only person not scared for herself, and I knew she could help the others listen to me because she was so calm and soft and perfect.
- Question for either or both: What are your mains and dreams in life now? Has anything caused them to change from dreams you had in the past?
"Well, the...incident hasn't done anything to help my reputation, so I'm mostly wanting to recover from there, find my place and whatnot."
- Question for either or both: How do you feel about your current role in life?
"It's not where I want to be, but I understand it's where I deserve to be. I think Evmeth and I can pull through in a few Turns, though. We'll be out of this soon, you'll see."
- Question for either or both: It's quite possible that you will become Weyrmaster/mistress one day. How do you feel about that?
"Hahahaha....I think it's more likely that they'll transfer someone first. Not many of the older riders would be happy if I flew as Senior."
- Question for either or both: Golds used to more or less rule the Weyr and still do in some other Weyrs. How do you feel about that?
"It really depends on the pair. As for us? We could do it, but I think I would rather work as a community."
- Question for rider: Describe your relationship with your dragon. "Evmeth requires a lot of reassurance, but she always has the best intentions at heart. I couldn't ask for a better dragon."
- Question for dragon: Describe your relationship with your rider.
Shylla is so calm! She keeps me whole, and that means I can take care of the ones who matter most.

- Question for either or both: Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Fort traditionalist party?
"No, it's never something I've been interested in."
- Question for both: What two things could you not live without? One of these should be meaningful, and one frivolous!
"I couldn't live without High Reaches, and also morning klah."
I couldn't live without my Shylla, or also a good hide scrubbing!
- Question for either both: You are both invisible for a day! What will you do?
"Probably sneak around the creche, see how things have been."

Jr. Gold #1

THE RIDER
Name: K’deen (Formerly Kalideen)
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Appearance: There is a distinctly boyish look to K’deen, not that this bothers her in the slightest. A willowy woman with long legs and spindly arms, this female looks like a strong gust of wind might just carry her off. Surprisingly this is not a self-inflicted shape as K’deen is a great lover of good food, yet still she remains strangely lanky. To go with her thin frame is an equally thin face. A long triangle with a straight nose and small mouth, K’deen cannot help looking stretched out. Bright green eyes sit above a scattering of freckles that cover her nose and cheeks, as well as her arms and shoulders. A short mop of brunette curls tops off the long form, a mass that cannot be tamed for love nor marks, despite attempts by several individuals to do so. K’deen never got into the trend of some riders to grow their hair long, preferring to keep it short and at least somewhat manageable, rather than constantly having to fuss with it in her face or coming loose of its tie.

When it comes to clothing, K’deen is a ‘throw on whatever works’ kind of person. Despite her lack of confidence in her decisions she is happy with her body and living in it so wearing most things is easy. Unfortunately her fashion sense isn’t the best and it is not unusual for K’deen to ask a friend whose judgement she trusts to help her find a suitable outfit for an important event. Everyday wear however is whatever comes to hand and makes the most sense, with the woman having no preference as far as skirt vs trousers or long vs short-sleeves goes. This can at times lead to the rider looking slightly out of place when wearing a short sleeved blouse and a flowing skirt, seemingly unbothered by the chill, while others bundle up. A decision she may well regret later on.

Personality: K’deen is always trying to be what she thinks people want her to be, rather than who she should be. Life has swept away her childish naivety, stripped her of the arrogance that youth bred. Though in her youth the woman wanted nothing more than to be a hero, she now finds herself with more responsibility then she feels she can handle. Her mind is riddled with doubts of her own abilities. Can she really help anyone? Can she even keep Sauruth safe? There are times when K’deen speaks and someone else’s words come out, the girl too quick to trust another’s opinions over her own. They sound so confident; of course they know what they’re talking about. Far better than she does. This can sometimes lead to K’deen being manipulated or being outright turned around in the middle of a conversation. Starting off disagreeing with her adversary to only end up at the end of the discussion proving them right, it is far too easy to put words in the woman’s mouth. Her want to please, though good-natured and in some circumstances helpful, can lead to the rider being taken advantage of. She never thinks of how much pressure she will come under when she agrees to take a task on, far too intent on helping whoever asked and proving her worth to consider the backlash.

Along with her impressionable mind however comes a fierce loyalty. Once K’deen is allied she will never desert. Be it the Weyr, a fellow rider or anyone else, K’deen has a strict sense of honour. That includes never going back on your word, never allowing another to suffer and never giving up. When K’deen sees something she views as wrong occur it can cause that old hero to blaze back into life for a scant moment. Long enough for her to charge forward and confront the wrongdoer, but not long enough to live through the challenge. Once she is turned on the doubts rush back in to drown the heroic intention and the woman is left to flounder her words and try to get out without making a fool of herself and keeping everyone intact. It is in these confrontations that Sauruth becomes a quiet support; placing herself firmly behind K’deen to stop the rider being bowled over in the confrontation. In some instances this will work and the act can be held together long enough for K’deen to stroll out head held high, only to panic a moment later, but in others it won’t and she will instead get her backside verbally handed to her.

Everything felt by K’deen is felt with a great intensity. There are no small emotions in this person. Sadness is a consuming despair, happiness and overwhelming joy and fear a soul crushing terror. The rider is ruled by emotions, though she will attempt to cover this when trying to live up to the strong, leader-type role that some expect of her. It is in the night that her emotions close in the most, doubt and fear berating the woman until she must run to her bonded’s side for comfort. When the morning comes she can push it all back down and face the world once again. The past ten turns have taken a toll on K’deen’s once optimistic outlook and bogged the woman down with loss and responsibility she never expected to carry. She had not expected to see so much death before thread had even come and now that it has K’deen fears she will never be as ready as her mentor once thought she was. Still she tries, there is always a way she can help, a way to contribute. She is determined to prove that she is worth something, that she can tame her demons and overcome her fears. She will not fall by the wayside and be forgotten. Together with Sauruth she will prove they are worth remembering.

History: Born in the 176th turn of the fifth interval, Kalideen turned up just in time to see the start of a mass starvation. Obviously she does not remember any of it, but the child was lucky to survive her first three turns. Her mother, Lideean, unfortunately, was not. Having no memories of this loss Kalideen always felt a slight twinge of guilt for not missing the woman. She liked the idea of having a mother, but she could never bring herself to truly miss someone she couldn’t remember ever being in her life. Kalideen was instead raised by her father and his family in High Reaches Hold. None of them were crafters, her father and grandfather mending things such as furniture and small house repairs for those too poor to afford journeyman prices, with her grandmother running the arrangement. Kalideen’s childhood was a happy one once the harvests improved and the infant grew from toddler to dirt smeared child.

Kalideen was surprised to find how much of a threat the skirmishes between Ruatha and High Reaches were when she grew older. Not even ten turns old the child had been mostly shielded from it by her family, choosing that they would not discuss such matters in front of the youngest member of their group. Growing up in a hold Kali never saw dragons very close up, but she was always fascinated by them. From a very young age the girl proclaimed that she would become a dragonrider. Nothing could dissuade the child, not tales of thread, nor being lost between, too lost in childlike naivety to fear such things. Knowing they couldn’t afford to apprentice the child, her father and grandparents allowed her that dream. What were the odds that out of all the Hold children she would be picked anyway? Let her have this while she was young.

As it turned out, Kalideen was not chosen by a dragon when she stood before the searchrider at ten turns. Passed over and ignored, the youngster was heartbroken. She wasn’t good enough? The Weyr didn’t want her? After all that hoping and dreaming she wasn’t to be chosen after all? For the ten turn old this felt like the end of the world. She didn’t know what to do if she couldn’t be a dragonrider. No other thought had ever been entertained. Not knowing how to help his daughter, Karilar tried to convince the distraught youth that there was always the next turn. Perhaps that dragon just didn’t see what was special about her. There was nothing saying she couldn’t try again next turn, or the turn after that. There would always be more chances. Bolstered by this Kalideen set her sight on the future, determined that this time she would be noticed.

Luckily enough, she was, and in the turn 187 Kalideen, daughter of Karilar and Lideean, was taken to High Reaches Weyr. Being only eleven turns, she did not begin training until she turned twelve. In the turn between however there was a lot to get used to; the more liberal attitudes of the Weyr and the daunting reality of all the names carved into the walls of the dining hall. Oddly seeing all those names did not frighten her, instead it made her more determined than ever. She would do her best to honour the Weyr and those that had fallen to defend Pern. When training began Kali had to learn to hold her tongue in the presence of her superiors and was whipped into top physical condition. It was also time to bid farewell to her hair, although she did feel the loss, it was also seen as a rite of passage and therefore embraced. Completing training took time and effort, but by thirteen she was ready to be squired, missing a clutch by the skin of her teeth.

The rider that chose her was a harsh task mistress. L’wen of blue Shyorath believed that if Kalideen wanted to be a rider and wanted to be recognised then she was going to have to work for it and her squiring was only the beginning. L’wen’s favourite saying always seemed to be ‘A female rider must work twice as hard to receive half the credit for anything she does.’. The woman and teenager grew close over the three turns before a clutch was laid. L’wen claimed as much of Kalideen’s time as she could, training the candidate even harder than the Candidatemaster had seen to. Despite this however, she was never cruel, she supported Kali when needed and left her to the consequences of her mistakes when appropriate. What at first felt like spiteful torture, the candidate soon saw to be a way of teaching her, moulding her into what she needed to be, without pandering and smothering her.

In 192 Kalideen stands before the clutch of Sereveth. …And fails to impress. Again her confidence is shaken. Perhaps that first searchdragon had been right. All the training she had completed, all the tasks set she had accomplished in the end and yet she was found wanting. Three turns of squiring, a turn of candidate training and she had fallen at this crucial hurdle. Again she was encouraged by those closest to her. L’wen telling her it was common not to impress on first standing, there would be other clutches. Sure enough a turn later Hiraeth becomes proddy and is moved to Igen territory to protect her and her future eggs from the growing dragonplague and Kalideen is taken to stand for impression.

In the desert of Igen, Kalideen has nothing save rumours to go on about what is occurring back at the Weyr. That and the continuous keening of the dragons with them. She fears for her mentor, her friends. Wondering if any of those keens are for them. The hatching comes and Kali is standing on the sands once again, but they are not the sands of what she now sees as home. The ensuing hatching is violent and terrifying. It is there, among all the fear and the blood that she is found. Huddled and panicked, stumbled upon by Sauruth, the one who would shield her from all of it and keep her safe. The one that would never leave her, not even if the stars fell and the moons went out would she ever leave her Kalideen.

To this day Kalideen regrets that Sauruth’s first days were in a barren desert, but understood it was necessary to keep her safe and anything is worth that. Time rolled on and the keening lessened until eventually they were allowed back amongst dragonkind. The pair and their peers were taken to Igen, where Kalideen was surprised by the number of roles held by women and chromatic colours. The idea that at Igen a woman on a green could become a wingleader startled her. Before her impression this would have excited Kalideen, intent as she was on riding a fighting dragon and protecting Pern, but now her fate had been changed. She could not ride into battle on the back of Sauruth, never seer thread from the sky with her bonded. She would have to find other ways for them to help Pern, other methods to be worth recognising.

Upon their return to High Reaches Kalideen is ecstatic to have L’wen meet Sauruth, the young dragon picking up on her excitement at meeting the woman who had made such an influence on her bonded. It was only then that Kalideen was told that Shyorath had been claimed by the plague, L’wen choosing to depart with her beloved blue when the time came. The teenager was absorbed in grief, feeling like a part of her had been torn away. Her teacher, her guide, her friend, was gone. The strong woman and beautiful blue had been stolen from her while her back had been turned. Guilt soon chased on the tail of her grief. She should have been there. If she had been here things would have been different. She could have done something. Anything. L’wen was gone.

It was Sauruth that eventually pulled the young woman from her despair. Comforting her as she cried long into the night and as she blamed herself for things she could not control. When the time came however and all the tears were spent and all the blame had been thrown around Sauruth gently pushed Kalideen back into the Weyr. Forcing her to carry on, as her friend would have wanted her to. L’wen would not have allowed her to wallow here forever; she still wanted to honour, did she not? L’wen and Shyorath had seen the potential in the young woman and she could not dishonour their memory by failing to live up to it. She may not be able to fight as they trained her to, but she could still do her duty and serve Pern as a dragonrider. When graduation came Kalideen shortened her name, taking the rider’s honourific as her mentor had before her.

Now named K’deen, the rider and dragon threw themselves into aiding the Weyr any way that they could. The first attempts were awkward and not the best, trying to aid too many in too many ways led to their efforts lacking focus and dedication. The pair were told to pick something in particular to help with, rather than trying to help everyone and not succeeding too well. At first they chose Assistant Weyrlingmaster, but soon found they lack the patience to wrangle the youths, or the strength to lose so many. The first death proved to K’deen that there was no way she could train classes, bond with these youths, only to have them snatched away so many times.

Although kept separate from the war that tore through Ruatha in the wake of the Dragonplague, K’deen couldn’t help but feel that the Weyr could have done something, had they not been in the state it had been. The Weyr remained untouched, but she heard rumours and stories of the numbers of people who fell in the battles before it was over. Perhaps had their numbers not been so low they could have stopped it. The only Weyr holding numbers that could have potentially made a difference was Ista and everyone knew how they handle trouble. Slam their doors and abandoned the rest of Pern to its fate.

Sauruth’s first clutch was laid in 196 and K’deen could not have been prouder. This was how they could aid Pern. Replenish the ranks and honour those who had fallen by creating more wings to take to the air. There was even more cause for pride for the pair as a gold egg was among the clutch. With three golds hopefully High Reaches’ recovery would be all the swifter and none too soon with the Red Star drawing ever nearer. The time came and once again dragons flew into the sky to face their old enemy and there was still a part of K’deen that wanted to be with them, but she had her own way to aid Pern, with Sauruth at her side. Becoming an assistant to the Headwoman K’deen found a way to help that put her drive and dedication to work. Of course it doesn’t save her from a whack of On’ya’s cane when she steps out of line.

THE DRAGON
Name: Sauruth
Age: 10
Colour: Gold
Feel of voice: This dragon’s voice wraps the listener in warmth and safety. Curling around them and seeping into their bones, it is difficult to feel threatened when Sauruth’s softness envelopes them. The touch of her voice is comforting, like a warm blanket or a tight hug, the listener is safe, they are loved. Whilst the voice holds you, nothing will go wrong.

Appearance: Sauruth isn’t the finest featured gold. Sporting a broad face, thick neck, muscular chest and large wings. There is a lot of weight in the dragon’s appearance. She may be only average in height, but her bulk makes her seem far larger than she really is. It also robbed any hope of graceful motion from the gold. Her movements are heavy and there is no chance of Sauruth sneaking up on anyone. Even in the air she is a lumbering creature. Sauruth’s movements are all about power, forsaking manoeuvrability and elegance for brute force. Her colouring is a warm gold with a rick honey poured over her back, twisting its way down her neck a legs, spreading out to cake the backs of her wings and running, unchecked, down her tail. The gold would be gorgeous were her strong, vibrant, colours on a more traditionally pretty gold. It’s hard to think of Sauruth as being pretty when she carries so much bulk on her frame. Unless you’re K’deen in which case you love you’re dragon no matter how muscly she is.

Personality:
Sauruth is a nurturing soul, mothering nearly everything she can get her claws on. Be it human, wher, dragon, firelizard or anything else, if it responds to a mental touch then she will mother it. She likes to shelter and protect things, gathering them close and loving them, making sure they feel safe and adored as much as they should. The gold can at times be smothering with the amount of affection she tries to give and has managed to drive individuals away from her with this method before, not at all understanding why they would flee from her love. She was only trying to help them after all, are they sure they wouldn’t like to come and sit with her? Sauruth can help she’s sure. What? She is not meddling!

Disliking confrontation this gold would rather not fight people over things. Talking things out calmly and sensibly is much better and far less likely to make the poor dear upset. Please don’t shout, there’s no need for that level of aggression. Things really aren’t that bad. Her optimism doesn’t respond well to people who are rude or overly aggressive for no reason. When things start to get confrontational then Sauruth would much rather just drift into the background until the dust settles. Then she will comes and pick up the pieces afterwards. She can do the picking up the pieces part, that’s easy, but the fighting out part she’ll leave to someone else. She’s a little pleased that she won’t be asked to fight thread, because that’s a whole new level of confrontation and there’s no way she’d be able to keep head during that. Not with all the fire and the orders and nope, nope, nope.

Despite not liking confrontation, Sauruth is a wonderful support. She might not be able to take on the aggressor herself, but she can stand behind her champion whilst they do wonderfully. Of course they can take them on. They are her champion, her victor; there is nothing they can’t do. She’s here for them, they can lean on her all they like. She will support them no matter what. There is nobody who receives this strength and support quite like K’deen. Even if Sauruth did not agree with K’deen’s choices she would still support her in ever endeavour. No matter the battle Sauruth is behind her all the way.


THE INTERVIEW QUESTIONS

- Question for rider: What were your aims in life, your dreams for the future, before you Impressed?
K’deen: As long as I can remember I wanted to be a dragonrider. All the harper tales about dragonriders being these brave heroes that always saved the day really got to me and I wanted that. I wanted to be the person that got to save the day. I never really thought about doing anything else before impressing. There were times when I failed to impress or stuff got tough that I thought about just giving it up, but I’d never say I any had another dream.

- Question for either or both: Describe your Impression.
K’deen: …I was scared. It wasn’t the same as when I was at High Reaches. There I always knew what to do. I knew the people there and I felt safe. Here… Here was different. There was so much blood and I was so, so frightened. People were screaming and I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know where to go. Don’t run. That was what they always told us, don’t run. But people did. I don’t know why, maybe they were scared too, but they ran. They ran and there was so much blood and screaming. I didn’t know what was going to happen. If I’d even step away from the clutch alive. I was out there. Alone. I was so scared of what was going to happen and I just froze. It was like everything stopped working and I couldn’t run. I felt like I should, like I needed to get away, but I couldn’t bring my feet to move. Then I was on the floor. I don’t remember if I fell or someone pushed passed me, but once I was down I just curled into a ball and hoped it would all go away. I had never been so frightened. Never considered that I was really going to die. …And then she was there. She covered me and spoke to me. She promised me that nobody would hurt me. That I was safe. She wouldn’t let anything happen to me. She would protect me. My beautiful Sauruth, she would make sure nothing bad happened to me.
Sauruth: I don’t remember what happened. I can see what K’deen saw, but what I saw and felt I don’t remember. When I look into her memory though it makes me sad. That she should ever have felt so alone and afraid. I wish she had never felt that way, that I could make her forget what happened the way I have so that she wouldn’t remember.

- Question for either or both: What are your mains and dreams in life now? Has anything caused them to change from dreams you had in the past?
K’deen: You mean besides Sauruth not being a fighting dragon? To be honest my entire plan for life had to overhaul after I impressed Sauruth. Not that I regret it for a second. I guess it’s my own fault for never really having a back-up plan. I’d never looked at what goldrider’s did as though I would be one of them, so I had no plan at all for how to handle the situation. I wasn’t sure what to do, being a woman on the fighting dragon was tough, but show you’re good enough in drills and on missions and you can make people realise you’re potential. On a gold? There are some that just sort of shunt you off as someone attached to a breeder with no job other than to keep them entertained and take inventory. Which is kind of upsetting. Really, I guess, all we want is for us to be acknowledged as useful in our own right. Not as what Sauruth’s colour.

- Question for either or both: How do you feel about your current role in life?
Sauruth: We have our own ways of helping in this role. It may not be what K’deen had in mind when she joined the Weyr, but still we can help. There are times she worries that our use will only ever be my young, but she doesn’t see how useful she can be. Our ability to help far surpasses simply birthing the next generation. We are a smart pair of heads, my bonded just needs to find the right place to put those minds at work before we can really show our worth.

- Question for either or both: It's quite possible that you will become Weyrmaster/mistress one day. How do you feel about that?
K’deen: The title kind of just feels like a formality to me. I know that the Weyrmaster can be involved in matters where their gold helps get important information, but that seems more a job for Sauruth than me. I’d rather we be known for our skills, rather than an ability that Sauruth was born with.

Sauruth: There is a small part of me that wants to be able to claim being the ‘top dragon’, but it is not a very big part. When I think that I might have to make big decisions or be the one ordering the other dragons around I think that maybe it is best that I am not the one in charge. I don’t like bossing people around.

- Question for either or both: Golds used to more or less rule the Weyr and still do in some other Weyrs. How do you feel about that?
Sauruth: Again, I don’t like bossing people around, so I don’t think I could run the Weyr the way that it needs to be run. Not the way that some of those golds seemed to. I wouldn’t be able to dominate everyone into following me. Isn’t it better to be followed because they agree with you and like you? I think it’s better to be loved than feared.

K’deen: I think it’s unfair to put that on people. Just because a gold picks you doesn’t mean you can run a Weyr. Look at me. I wouldn’t last a candlemark in charge of the whole Weyr and I’ve been a Goldrider for ten turns now. I’ve heard stories of just graduated goldriders ending up in charge and that just seems like a bad choice to put someone in charge who hasn’t had time to grow and know how they want to do things yet.

- Question for rider: Describe your relationship with your dragon.
K’deen: Sauruth is my world. I could never last without her. There isn’t a day that she doesn’t support me and make me feel loved. We’re a team, we’ve got each other’s backs and will never let each other down. …I couldn’t keep going without her.

- Question for dragon: Describe your relationship with your rider.
Sauruth: I love K’deen more than life itself. She needs me. She is so scared and so easily made to doubt herself, she needs me to stand beside her and support her. To keep the voices that sneer and put her down at bay. She needs someone to protect her from herself. She beats herself up more ruthlessly than anyone else could; it is in her own head that these fears live. She puts on a mask to hide her feelings from others, but I can see it. I always could see it, she needs someone to stand between her heart and her mind.

- Question for either or both: Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Fort traditionalist party?
K’deen: No.
Sauruth: Um… No? I’m not sure what it is, so I don’t think I can have been part of it.

- Question for both: What two things could you not live without? One of these should be meaningful, and one frivolous!
Sauruth: The stars, I love the evenings that K’deen and I sit out under the stars and simply look up at them. They make everything seems so small and our worries seem so far away. The second thing would be wherry. I like wherry much more than herdbeast.

K’deen: Sweet rolls. They are a bit of a weakness of mine, having them cut off would be so upsetting. The other thing would be the night sky. Me and Sauruth like to sit outside at night sometimes and the sky is so beautiful, to see that go away would be more devastating than I think anything I could lose beside Sauruth. I guessed I wasn’t allowed to pick her.

- Question for either both: You are both invisible for a day! What will you do?
K’deen: Oh, um, I don’t know. I guess we’d go flying outside the Weyr. Go as far as we wanted, wherever we wanted and nobody would be able to catch us and take us back. We could go anywhere we wanted and not have to worry about politics or what anybody thought of us because of who or what we are.

Sauruth: I would go to the Holds. I would like to see how the people there live when dragons are not around. I think we make them nervous, so it would be nice to see what life is like for them when dragons are not around and they feel safe. Then I would go flying with K’deen, she would like that freedom.