Age: 27 turns
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Weyr: High Reaches Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider (Jr. Weyrwoman?)
Previous Rank/Craft: N/A
Physical Description: Lestenna stands proudly tall for a girl, especially one of such obvious working stock—above average height for her gender, though not for Pern as a whole, and aided by almost stubbornly erect posture and shoulders that, when squared, would be the envy of half the males her age, give her an air of being perhaps taller than she really is. She is well-built and muscled, decently proportioned as far as her weight-to-height ratio goes; sadly she is not graced with any kind of feminine form.
Her hair is a nondescript medium brown, and vaguely waved from a life near the sea, as well as genetics. Or rather, it would be if she let it grow. Following the return of thread, when a stray strand wasn't quite dodged in time, her hair was shorn like an ovine, and she has kept it cropped close since; barely four inches long and out of the way, it's revealed a rather round head and unapologetically larger than usual ears. Her nose as well is rather unfeminine—proud and long, it dominates her face and gives it an unfortunately masculine lilt as it juts from between her hard brown eyes and short—if thick—brows. Her one 'redeeming quality' as far as looking feminine, are her naturally pink and shapely lips...when they're not drawn into a tense line or worse, a serious frown. of course.
Her clothing is utilitarian at best; out of style, though properly maintained, and she cares not for flashy pieces or baubles. In a crowd she would be hard to pick out as a rider at all by her attire, let alone a goldrider.
Personality: A hard but fair life reared Lestenna up to be similarly hard but fair. Always striving to show her worth, to be of use, to be helpful, to make her way and an honest living. Life is about your place in it, and earning that place with your own two hands and the deeds you can do. There is pride to be found, and honor, in an honest living, working with one's hands and finding pleasure in whatever your lot in life is. Or at least that's what Lestenna was always told, and believed for sixteen turns of her life. That the world was good, and bettered by those in it who led good lives, and that those who chose the wrong paths, the dark ways and dishonest ones would be found out and reap what they sowed.
Then came famine and outlaws and thread, and things changed. A harsh wake up call shook her, and left the young woman filled with a great well of anger and sorrow, masked beneath disinterest and cheerful keeping-on. She hides her fury well, though occasional cracks in the facade she's made let through glimpses of the passion inside—both good and bad. As great as her anger at the enemies in her life might be, the sorrow of losing friends and family and a gentle way of life, so greatly burns her joy. Still bright, though contained in the face of threats seemingly from all sides, she knows when to keep her feelings in check and when to let them blaze out of control.
She has always liked to think that those who do good will come to good ends, and when thread came she felt that she was vindicated in that belief. But at a price, of course. She's seen friends side with the same invaders that had unsettled their home. Seen them forget, forgive what happened before. The raids. The fighting. While her own convictions remained strong, it was only too clear that those around her were becoming weaker, turning to regard their once-enemies as if they deserved to be among them. Because so many had gone that way, making friends and forgetting their loyalty to the rightful rulers of Hold and Hall, she became increasingly distrustful over the last decade of life. Always one to keep her feelings locked away, and her thoughts close to the vest, she has become even more reluctant to show anything but a (false) face of contentment until she has the measure of a person. If she must wait alone to make her moves, she will. But she will not forget, and when the day comes, she will not forgive those who have wronged her and hers in any way, nor those who have come to love those she would call enemies, or cast aside morals and traditions.
And Faranth have mercy on that day, because she will not.
Pros: Passionate, caring, resilient, hopeful.
Cons: Passionate, distrusting, negative, savage when pushed.
History: Born a child of two drudges in a tiny sea-side weyr that grew out of a gathering of weyrless riders a century and a half ago, that Lestenna was both healthy and bright in the creche was something of a welcome surprise. She had as close a relationship with her parents as was normal for a child of her status—more than most rider-born would have, though her loyalty was forged more to the weyr than her parents as individuals. She grew swiftly, and suffered few childhood injuries or illnesses—all in all she was entirely robust, and clever in the way of children who figure out on their own, and all too soon, that there is no tooth wherry or magical being bearing turnover gifts for those scolded into good behavior.
From youth she understood that her parents were drudges, and that they would never be riders like those she had come to adore. She was at once furious with the substandard wages and way of living her parents had been shunted into and at the same time understanding that at least in this weyr they were given this much. In holds or even other, older weyrs things would be even worse, she had been told. As she aged and learned the ways of dragonriders and of Pern and her history, she came rather to be grateful that at least in her weyr everyone had a place and a purpose, and even if things weren't entirely a paradise, they could all be together and do most of what they pleased. The weyr cared for those that would not be able to do elsewhere, and gave them more than could be said anyone else would give. And the weyr had her thanks for that.
With such debts in mind, it became Lestenna's goal to give back to the system somehow. It was the weyr who had her allegiance, and her people, and she understood what they had done for her in offering her to stand for dragonbond, even now in the days where they were no longer needed protectors of Pern. It was an offer she could not begin to think of refusing, especially when she found herself to have no remarkable talents for most crafts. Those that were interesting proved to be those that would lead her away from the weyr for a time, to halls for training. Similarly they often required fees for apprenticing and further training—fees that her parents, with their drudge wages, couldn't possibly save up. No, no, she would become a rider or take to the kitchens or caverns, she told herself. Perhaps the local farmcraft would be glad of her, untrained as she was, for turns of candidate labor would build strong muscles and work ethic.
As most weyrs no longer kept to traditional efforts or tithing, it was not immediately apparent when one of the region's minor, but most productive holds was taken by raiders. A sea-side 'city', it fell easy prey to the combination of sails both on boats and dragons, and the thundering hooves of riders on racerback, and developed swiftly into a rather dangerous, immoral hive. Only when several candidates and a greenrider taking a rest day vacation failed to return was the issue brought to light. A second problem arose months later, when regional crops seemed to fail, leaving some minor holds increasingly dependent on larger holds and the weyr itself to provide. The raiders, unaccustomed as they were to tilling and planting, began roving and taking more and more holds to fill their own bellies. And to Lestenna's ire and horror, boredom and wariness of their own hunger convinced more than a handful of the weyr's riders to abandon their posts and go rogue, or sneak out to live double lives.
Forced to live and work beside these 'rogues' was anathema to her. Some argued that the raiders and their followers knew how to fight and fly better than the weyr, and could help keep people and dragons better fed. Some said that it was survival of the fittest, and might made right. Some pointed out that when a few raider 'stowaways' impressed dragonets at the next clutch, that that meant they couldn't be all that bad.
That, if anything, was the most Lestenna could manage to tolerate (because who was she to gainsay a dragonet's choice?). More and more she felt that the slow decline over centuries from the traditional ways of Pernese life had caused this upheaval. People were beginning to go from arguing to rioting in some holds, and people were starting to get hurt. In her mind, the ancients had the right of it. It made sense to judge a rider by their actions, just like everyone else. Hadn't the weyrs stood in their traditional ways for centuries untold? Hadn't the dragons always fallen in line by color as if it was bred into their very nature? Hadn't it been that same sense of hierarchy that had allowed for the discipline needed to repel thread for so many turns (and what could be a greater triumph than to have finally defeated it)? No one told a dragon it was wrong for who it chose to bond with—why had it suddenly become wrong that blues should look up to browns, and greens to bronzes, and all to golds? The creeping idea of the turmoil that seemed to have come from shaking the order of things refused to be extinguished.
And somewhere along the way, she impressed. Not to a blue, or a green, or even a tiny white. To a gold. As if Pern itself, Faranth beyond, had reached down to tap her on the shoulder and say, "you've got the right of it". There was nothing she could do with a dragonet so young, now when she needed the weyr's resources the most, but already she knew that she would not stand for such treason, such disregard for the same system that had kept them all safe and fed for millennium much longer. She just had to wait until Uridith had grown, and until the time was right.
And so Lestenna maintained a facade of quiet acceptance—she never made friends with those who dabbled on the wrong side of the law, but nor did she rally against them. A time would come though, she was sure, when they would show themselves for the craven power hungry thieves they were. And she would remember all they'd done, and all those who'd sided with them, and she would protect her weyr from them by any means necessary.
And thread returned. And people died. The weyr scrambled to organize, but so did the raider riders, and many felt the call of demand in two directions at once. Both efforts were scattered at best, and neither group escaped without casualties (and a vicious determination that it was the OTHER group that had caused the problem.) A stray thread (and there were so, so many stray threads that day) found her hair and twisted within it as she rose atop Uridith to fight the great and long-forgotten enemy, with weapons they barely had any idea how to use. Only a split second reaction to fling them both between saved the pair. Many of her friends were not so lucky, and when she survived with naught but a freshly shorn head she felt guilt and anger with herself and the weyr itself for the first time. Of course, she reasoned, no one had thought thread would come again. Thread hadn't come for centuries, an eon. Still, it was a bitter pill to see the tattered remnants of the weyr's wings immediately turn to squabbling with the raider riders rather than band together to prepare for the next threadfall.
Realizing that no one wanted to listen to her there, and that there was precious little left to save, she bundled her parents onto Uridith's back, and in three coughs had them all gliding down towards the bowl of High Reaches. Here, she determined, at least were people who knew the truth of the world, and were ready to fight together.
Other: If dedication to a cause is a talent, then count that. The same with knowing when to talk and when to keep her head down. Aside from that? Her memory is keen as a tack, and she is excellent at putting faces to names, and knowing what name goes with what deeds.
DRAGON
Name: Uridith
Age: 8 turns
Color: Gold
Size: 46'
Physical Description: Uridith is a perfectly formed gold in all ways. She is average size, right down the middle for her color at 46', and has almost exactly proportional portions, making her length for length just what one'd imagine in a gold. Well, as long as one looks at her from the ankles up. Her feet and claws seem over sized, meant for a dragon an obvious shade bigger than herself. Despite the somewhat awkward look they lend, they are useful for walking, giving her an overly easy gait on the ground and making the struggle of walking for such a large dragon that much easier.
Personality: Uridith is a passionate dragon matched to a passionate rider. Born for greatness, she loves all her family, and all her family includes everyone at (or at least, loyal to) High Reaches. She is dotingly kind, and often overprotective of those who are good to her family. This same sense of desire to protect what is hers often becomes overbearing, and rather irritating to those 'blessed' with her protection, but she cares not. As long as they stay safe she will continue to remind them to watch their landings and not chew too fast and not associate with those dangerous rogue types. Even right out telling her that you don't want her doting on you would do no good—her feelings are stronger than the shell she hatched from, and she's sure you're just trying to look out for her in turn. No, no, that's fine, she's a gold, it's her duty and pleasure to mind everyone else.
And yes, she is a gold. And as a gold, she's certain that she knows best (though maybe Lestenna knows a bit more, sometimes) for everyone. And because she's already made up her mind on what she thinks is right, it is infuriatingly hard to change her mind about anything, let alone give her advice that she bothers to listen to. She makes up her mind and then acts on it; more often than not without fully thinking through the long term consequences of her actions, which leaves her seeming dangerously flighty at times. And why shouldn't she act on a thought as soon as it comes to her? What's that? Last time? Oh dear, that had to have been someone else! surely she'd remember if she'd done something so foolish. No, no, it's her job to look out for and protect against that sort of thing, sweetie. Now step back and watch her work!
She has nothing but the best intentions in all of her actions and ideas, she simply needs a firm hand and a mind that can see the long term and big picture to temper and guide her in her role as self-elected protector and 'mother' of the weyr.
When someone she thinks of as under her protection, someone in her family, as it were, is in danger, she becomes a raging golden ball of teeth and claws and (she wishes) fire. It is her job to protect, and her job to fight for her family when it comes to it. There is nothing so frightening and dangerous as a mother protecting her children—and as far as she knows, all of the weyr and its holdings falls into that category. Properly guided, that sort of ferocity could be quite the weapon in some hands.
Pros: Loving, determined, emotionally sturdy, fierce.
Cons: Whimsical, overprotective, poor at taking advice, blindly faithful.
Impression Info
Inspiration:
Gold Uridith is based off a constellation, in preferred keeping with the clutch theme. Her constellation is Lupus.
On the constellation Lupus
"Lupus is a constellation in the southern sky. Its name is Latin for wolf. Lupus was one of the 48 constellations listed by the 2nd century astronomer Ptolemy, and it remains one of the 88 modern constellations. It lies between Centaurus and Scorpius.
In ancient times, the constellation was considered an asterism within Centaurus, and was considered to have been an arbitrary animal, killed, or about to be killed, on behalf of, or for, Centaurus. It was not separated from Centaurus until Hipparchus of Bithynia named it Therion (meaning beast) in the 200s BCE. No particular animal was associated with it until the Latin translation of Ptolemy's work identified it with the wolf."
On the wolf
"Wolves have a long history of association with humans, having been despised and hunted in most agricultural communities due to its attacks on livestock, while conversely being respected by some Native American tribes. It is also sole ancestor of the dog, which was first domesticated in the Middle East, and one of man's most treasured companion animals.
Wolves are social animals, preferring to move withing familial packs, though sometimes multiple families can come together to form unusually large packs. They are territorial animals that often eke out far more territory than is necessary to survive in order to assure steady, abundant food."
Origin of Name:
Uridith comes from "UR.IDIM." The Greek constellation [of Lupus] is probably based on the Babylonian figure known as the Mad Dog (UR.IDIM). This was a strange hybrid creature that combined the head and torso of a man with the legs and tail of a lion (the cuneiform sign 'UR' simply refers to a large carnivore; lions, wolves and dogs are all included). It is often found in association with the sun god and another mythical being called the Bison-man, which is supposedly related to the Greek constellation of Centaurus.
Why me?:
Uridith and Lestenna make a good match because Lestenna has the focus and drive to guide the little gold to great heights, and similarly Uridith has the love and protective nature to remind Lestenna what is important, and what they want to protect. Without the other, Lestenna could become too callous, too focused on her goals to keep in mind what good parts of herself she'd rather not lose. Similarly, Uridith would wane without a goal, or a focusing hand to guide her. Her good intentions are just that, but doomed to repeat failure without someone seeing the big picture for her.
OOC NOTE: I'm fine with changing up her history. I didn't name any places she'd been since I didn't wanna 'script' a canon weyr/hold into anything. Let me know, loves!
