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Approved by Tawny

Name: Rokar
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Craft/Rank: Was Fishercraft Journeyman, now Wherhandler apprentice
History: Rokar had a fairly normal childhood at a fisher hold, learned to swim before he could walk, grew up among strong Sea faring folk, men and women alike pitching in whenever a boat brought back a haul. He learned to guy fish quickly and efficiently, learned how to mend nets, haul rigging and such things needed to be out on a boat at sea but he also learned how to cook their catches too, a side thing for him to do, anyone could have done so but he liked being able to catch and eat things himself rather than be supplied elsewhere.

When Rokar's voice broke and proved that he had a very good tenor the hold's resident Harper requested that he come to the hall and learn Harpering, he turned this down. He loved life at the fisherhold, he couldn't imagine any other life, even though he did enjoy singing. A thing fairly valued whenever he went out on a fishing trip when he was older, he was great at keeping morale with his songs, other fishermen (and women, rarely) on the boats sung but Rokar would put his whole being into the song however he never let it get in the way of working, he knew when to shut up and get on with it.

One afternoon a storm washed in suddenly while he was with the crew chasing packtail shoals, Rokar, being of rather large build, was one of the few that stayed above, lashing the rigging down and securing the boat so they didn't capsize. Being the idjit he was he didn't think about himself, only the boat and the crew and hadn't donned his waterproof jacket and got soaked through. Over the next day or so, even after the storm had long cleared he was wracked with a fever and a cough, his throat closing so that he could barely squeak, let alone bellow when needed on the fishing boat. He returned home and was banned from going out on boats until he was fully recovered, which he did for the most part, his voice, once strong, was raspy and hoarse, however he kept going out on the fishing trips, other fishermen overlooking the fact he couldn't shout or sing as well anymore in favour of his strength and experience, however the more he went out, the more his voice weakened. It got to the point he was told he couldn't go out on the vessels anymore as he couldn't bellow or yell, which was kind of needed on a large boat, plus if he ever got hurt or knocked overboard, how was he going to signal he was in need when he couldn't shout, as at that point his voice was a loud whisper and his yell was about as strong as regular talking. Rokar was crushed but tried to hide his disappointment, the sea was his life, if he couldn't get out on it.... what use was he? ..

After several sevendays the teasing started as he stopped speaking alltogether, it taking more effort than he cared to expend to make himself even heard, he took to carrying a slate and charcoal to communicate but even then only when it was really needed. Other, mostly younger fisherfolk would tease him, kick dirt at him as if he was a dumb drudge, in fact most of the time they treated him worse than a drudge. Only a few of the women defended him from the others, which frustrated him, he wasn't some child that needed to be babied, nor was he a woman, doing woman's work (not that they didn't work just as sharding hard as the men did) Over the next turn a plan formed, he worked silently with the women, avoiding the men as much as he could to avoid their looks, the glances, some sympathetic, which infuriated him, he was still ABLE... just because he couldn't speak much didn't mean he needed their shaffing pity. He grew a little bitter, hoarding every mark he made that he didn't need for his immediate needs, skimping on some things to save his marks back, he began to hate the sea, feeling torn from something that had meant so much to him, he couldn't stand looking at it anymore. He got in more than several fights among young lads of the fisherhold before making his final decision.

When he had saved enough Marks he'd left the Fisherhold, leaving a note for his parents, they deserved that much, to tell them where he had gone, why and not to follow. He found the nearest beast sale at a nearby Small farming Hold and bought a sturdy Runner, a good solid beast that would do well travelling long distance. Using his new runner he travelled to Malvren Weyr... now Malvren Wherhold. Determined to leave the sea behind him. He and his runner he named simply Black, travelled and formed rather a good bond, the beast watching out for him as well as being his mount for the journey. Upon arriving at Malvren he declared his intent, to serve as a Wherhandler, he would like to learn the craft. He stayed on a few days, learning a few of the whistles and clicks, these seemed much easier and he learned them quickly, much easier than talking.

After a few days it was decided that he should travel to Benden Wherhold, which suited him very well as he wanted to be as far from the sea as he could, there he would have to apply properly to see if he was allowed to become a Wherhandler Apprentice. He said a teary goodbye to Black, he'd become quite attached to the animal but had gifted the stallion to the Wherhold as breeding stock, being of better breed than he had originally realised. He was willing to pay the price, despite the small heartache it gave him to part with the runner, it was worth the price to leave the sea behind. A Rider gave him a ride to Benden Wherhold, Rokar had never been on a dragon before but the feeling he got when the beast was airborne was similar to the freedom he felt on a ship in the middle of the sea. He liked it, however when the blue went Between he almost wet himself, THAT feeling was not one he liked at all.

Arriving at Benden, after thanking the Blue, he petitioned the Wherhandlers and was allowed to become an apprentice, seeing how his lack of a voice (well, not without great effort) didn't hinder him communicating with a Wher, the slate being enough. He has been at Benden Wherhold for a couple of days now and is learning the ropes and what it means to be part of the Wherhold.

Description: Rokar is a fairly large built young man, while he'll never be massive, he's strong his skin, once deeply tanned is starting to fade and his hair, sunbleached to a dark, dirty blondish is turning a light brown. He has rick hazel eyes that are very expressive when he wants them to be, unless someone mentions the sea, then they seem to turn dark as he thinks about his loss of that freedom. He's of fairly average height but broad shoulders and large muscles can sometimes give him an intimidating feel, As well as the slate he carries on a string around his neck, charcoal tied to that with string to communicate what he wants.

Personality: Rokar is silent, both due to his problems with his voice and the fact since losing his voice he finds nothing really worth talking about. He won't talk about his past beyond 'telling' people through the slate, that he came from a fisherhold, wanted to be a Wherhandler and so came here. When asked why Benden and not Malvren Rokar will either ignore the question or just shrug. He's fairly reserved but if anyone tries to make fun of the slate or his voice when he DOES speak, he usually gets aggressive, bristling, glaring and looking damn intimidating, if it goes further than that he's not afraid to use his fists, usually just the once,often saying in his squeak of a voice "When i get a Wher you won't dare do that again" before backing off unless the other wants to continue the fight. Most of the time once is enough but they usually come back in groups rather than on their own after that.

With those he considers friends (which he doesn't really have many, if any of right now) you will see he will open up more, he'll talk of the sea, he may even let down his guard and actually speak rather than using the slate, though he gets embarassed about his voice when it squeaks or comes out as a harsh, croaky bark. With critters he's very gentle, he likes the small ones, the babies. Things that also don't need to talk to tell their intent. They, like him, don't use words so he prefers them. More often you'll find him among the Beast Pens, at least until he gets a Wher, as he enjoys being around them. He passes a lot of time grooming the runners especially, wishing sometimes he could have brought his stallion.

Rokar isn't afraid of much, certainly not drowning or the sea or even heights, as he found when on dragonback. However he is scared of getting sick again, of losing something else important of himself. He's scared that he might never Bond to a Wher, never be able to turn away the taunts but he's most afraid of ending up a drudge, useful as he is, with no voice he feels that becoming a Wherhandler is the only useful thing he CAN do right now, if that fails then he will feel has has nothing, he lost his voice, he lost the Sea, he's afraid of losing those things around him that feel important to him. He wants to Bond to a Wher to make himself useful again in a way that's more than just the everyday things anyone can do.

There's one thing Rokar shies away from and that's singing and music, he loved to sing, that was taken away from him and it hurts, he tries to keep away from music whenever it happens to happen around him.

Other: He's happy to work for whoever as long as, for him, he's doing work that's satisfying, something that's more skilled than just everyday day to day work around the Hold (or Wherhold). He's not too bothered about how they came about gaining power over the Weyrs, sometimes you need to sacrifice something to gain something better. He's rather practical that way.