Name: A'rell (Averell) Age: 25
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Probably heterosexual, but let's not rule out other possibilities
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Watchrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Hunter
Physical Description: 5'11", 185 lb, built like a boxer – strong, but quick. He has a square frame from a lifetime of hard work, with thick shoulders and heavy arms and hands that look like they might have ripped apart slabs of wood with no extra help. He shares Camriel's wavy brown hair and pointed chin, with a heavier jaw and hooded blue eyes framed by eyebrows that slant down toward his temple and give him the appearance of a lost puppy.
Personality:
Guardian of the Galaxy – A'rell fancies himself someone who ought to have greatness thrust upon him. His sense of duty – to his family, to his hold, to his weyr – runs so deep he often forgets that he cannot, as one man alone, save the entire world. Nor should he try. He heaps needless responsibilities onto his shoulders and remains ever watchful, guarding all those around him regardless of whether or not they need it. He's quick with a joke and tries to breathe levity into the situation wherever he goes, but when things get ugly, it's always A'rell who has to do something to fix it.
History:
A'rell and his twin sister Camriel grew up in a little-known weyrhold in the South called Deadfall Weyrhold, so named for its vague resemblance to a deadfall trap. The weyrhold was filled with fierce and loyal hunters and was home to a small band of retired dragonriders and their kin. Theirs was a small clan that enjoyed a relatively privileged position in the weyrhold, but preferred to take care of itself and subsist as much on the land as it could. The dragonriders, now grandparents and great-uncles, numbered five and regaled the weyrhold children with tales of glory days gone by, when they'd flown as wingriders at High Reaches Weyr and then gone on to explore the continents and make names for themselves.
A'rell and his sister and cousins, the grandchildren of these dragonriders, grew up hungering for such stories of their own. But they kept themselves busy taking care of the clan. They learned to read the land as children and grew up hunting together. A'rell, the unspoken watcher and caretaker of the group, perfected his skills at tracking and trapping, making makeshift weapons and parts out of sticks and stones.
The kids grew, and two of the dragonriders passed, leaving the weyrhold with three elders to admire and care for. With fewer hands to farm and hunt, the dragonriders' clan began to reach out and become more entrenched in the everyday workings of the weyrhold as a whole. Eventually the existence of Deadfall Weyrhold became known to a passing goldrider, whose dragon had risen not long ago and desperately needed a place to clutch.
Only five eggs made it to the Hatching. Everyone of a suitable age in the weyrhold attended the event. Although A'rell remained convinced that their time would be better used keeping guard to make sure the weyrhold didn't fall to chaos, Camriel insisted that they at least attend. She was convinced something amazing would happen, and she was right. There on those sands, A'rell was overcome when a hefty brown dragonet strode purposefully up to him and asked why His was still standing there like a lost puppy when he should really make sure Azoth got some food.
Those that impressed looked to the three elderly dragonriders for guidance, which they gave as best they could. They taught the new weyrlings everything they knew and remembered, chiefly the practical stuff – dragoncare, knots, firestone selection, flight – the stuff they could never forget because it was so deeply ingrained into their bodies.
Other aspects of dragonriding, which weyrlings at a proper weyr would have known, fell to the wayside. Dueling tactics and proper Threadfighting techniques were hardly covered and the new riders' grasp of Pernese and dragon history was minimal. Going Between? They had a decent grasp and could do it, but any dragonrider at a Weyr would likely look at them and wonder how they'd made it so many years without killing themselves accidentally.
For years, the riders worked on perfecting their skills with their dragons. Then Threadfall returned. Driven by an instinctive need to fight Thread and an undying sense of duty to the world, A'rell followed his sister Camriel to Western Weyr.
Other:
DRAGON
Name: Azoth
Age: 5
Color: Brown
Size: 41'
Physical Description: Azoth is the burly epitome of a powerful dragon. He is all muscle, everywhere, and looks roughly like a giant brickhouse. There is no trace of elegance on him, but he exudes strength and – if necessary – speed. Maneuverability is not and will never be his thing but if you need someone to smash something, Azoth is your dude.
Personality:
Blunter than a Butter Knife – Azoth likes to smash things. He knows he's big, and he knows he strong, and he knows how easy it is to rend things in two with those giant talons of his. And just as there's little subtlety in his looks and in the way he likes to break things, so too is there little subtlety in the way he relates to others. Azoth is blunt, almost to a fault, and never bothers to filter his thoughts before he speaks. Does he think that dragonrider over there is wearing the most hideous shoes? He will make it known. The result is an unintentionally sassy giant of a dragon who really doesn't give a flying firelizard's butt about your feelings.
Ref from DollDivine
