Player Information

Name: Bod NPC

Weyrwoman Bhira

Name: Bhira
Pronunciation: Bih-rah
Age: 51
Gender: Female
Preference: Heterosexual
Birthing Date: 07.22.2710
Craft: None
Rank: Weyrwoman
Physical Description:

At about five feet, six inches in height, and with a fairly slight build, Bhira doesn't exactly command a room just by walking in. She has a compelling face with large, dark brown eyes and thick expressive eyebrows, but, assuming she is in good humor, Bhira is far likelier to draw people's attention slowly and with charm than with the brazen demand that Channith exercises. There's no mistake that Bhira is an attractive woman; she takes care of her skin, and discreetly touches up the color of her thick black hair, kept mostly shoulder-length these days, to hide the few gray hairs that are starting to creep in of late.


People who are fond of Bhira describe her as strong-willed and independent. People who are less fond of her likely tend to make the independence a blind one, and describe her as contrary and stubborn. For better or for worse, Bhira is not easily shifted from her opinions, methods, or beliefs, and she will pursue her own line of inquiry against the advice of people more expert or experienced in order to satisfy herself of the facts before she even considers gaining perspective. She takes things personally, which is both fault and virtue; though her feathers are easily ruffled and she feels slights intensely, she does not shirk responsibility or distance herself from events. Bhira is all about ownership. Like her dragon, she is possessive, and is prone to petty vindictiveness, though she is usually subtle enough about it that the fault goes unrecognized.

Bhira has an unfortunate tendency to get lost in minutiae, and not in the useful way that one might phrase as "close attention to detail." She is liable to agonize over the thread count in the infirmary bandages when the real problem is that there are too few bandages and the healers are being stingy with them. Her preference for a myopic perspective is somewhat mystifying, as it is clear that, when she does take a step back, her mind is better suited to understanding and sorting through the "big picture," and Bhira is able to make sound and impersonal decisions. The difficulty, of course, is that it can take a lot to force Bhira to take that step back, to remove her mind from the narrow channels to which it gravitates. The cause is lost when she is overtired. She can't be counted on for much at all. When, however, Bhira is an a good mood, she is reasonably charming, supportive, and positive, and blessed with a quick, dry wit. This does not happen often enough.


Bhira was raised in a large and prosperous cothold near Fort Hold, the only daughter among six children and, without any question at all, her father's favorite. With five brothers more interested in flirting with milkmaids and overseeing the plowing and harvest than in washing dishes or scouring floors, Bhira was conscripted early to the business of keeping the cothold proper in the state of near-fanatical tidiness and cleanliness Bhira's mother demanded with the help from but one household drudge (what sort of wife would she be, her mother asked when Bhira complained, if she couldn't look after her own home and ran up all sorts of expense for her husband with another mouth to feed? Extravagance!). Bhira did not care for it, though she learned quickly that there was no use trying to get out of her chores. She much preferred the little presents she got from her father—ribbons, ear drops, a comb worked over with delicate silver filigree—and his assurances that her future was destined to be a pretty one, with a handsome husband and leisure and soft hands.

The day the greenrider from Fort Weyr landed in their small courtyard, then, Bhira, headstrong and sure of herself at sixteen, was quick to place herself in the dragon's path. Word had gotten around that there was a gold egg on the Sands and that the Fort Searchriders were out in force. Bhira felt no hesitation when the dragon pronounced her a possible match for a dragon and left that day, deaf to her family's protests. She found herself a few sevendays later staring down an imperious, squawking, and bloody gold dragonet pronouncing herself to be Channith, and couldn't she hurry up and wash the sticky insides of that other stupid girl from her claws, please. Why she was still over there screaming about the hole in her leg, Channith couldn't imagine. Papa beamed, Mama cried, and Bhira began her prophesied new life.

The less-than-glamorous grunt labor of weyrlinghood shocked Bhira at first, but she soon recovered and charged through training. Once Channith matured, Bhira found being a goldrider did, in fact, have advantages, and the egos of both woman and dragon were pampered by the attention and deference they received. The fact that her family was almost too awed by Channith's gleaming bulk to speak to her didn't hurt much, either. The idling power of being a junior goldrider was sufficient for Bhira through her twenties, but as time passed, she very troublingly began to have . . . opinions. Irritation over the quality of a meal led her to stick her nose into the tithe records. Disapproval of a young brownrider's comportment had her learning and then fussing about policy and protocol. Gradually and a bit painfully, Bhira became . . . responsible.

She was comfortable with the strictness and limitations at Fort, reveled in the position and power Channith afforded her. She became modestly valuable over the Turns, and found a long-time lover in a bronzerider, Y'red, whose strengths complemented her own. It did not hurt that Y’red’s Ukuath was besotted with Channith and vice versa. After a sound partnership of some fifteen Turns, Ukuath flew the Weyrwoman’s queen, and Y’red left Bhira for the bed of another. She was furious, all the more so for feeling hurt. Channith was worse. Both were snubbed and coldly set aside. Her reaction—doing her best to make life hell for the senior pair of the Weyr—was not considered . . . acceptable. Y'red looked on her soberly, and generously remembered Bhira's abilities and virtues. It was his suggestion that Bhira transfer south, to Eastern, far, far from home. Bhira's snit ran deep; she and Channith left the following sevenday.

Gold Channith

Name: Channith
Color: Gold
Size: 41.75
Wing: Sun Sear
Weyr of Impression: Fort
Age: 35

Channith is on the smaller side of the median size for golds, though one would never guess that she was not the most impressive dragon in the Weyr from her upright carriage and proud—and with Channith, the word really is, absolutely and without question, proud—bearing. It takes careful, dispassionate attention to notice that Channith is not actually a particularly handsome dragon in feature or form; the gold has drama, is striking and unusual in her appearance. She has strong bones, slightly larger than average eyes, and certainly draws attention. There is grace in her lean, athletic body, but she could as easily be an awkward, clumsy creature were she not so perfectly aware of herself and her physical presence. Ever met a dragon who uses her wings as props as she sweeps around a space? Meet Channith.

When she hatched, Channith was the same color as she is now as a mature dragon: antique gold, pale, old gold that carries a faint patina of worth. Her hide bears, under its rich golden sheen, what appear to be remnants of a pattern, almost totally worn away . . . or possibly the uneven, shadowy-darker threads across Channith’s metallic form are cracks, as in a very old, much-handled ornament, partially concealed and smoothed. Whether the marks are flaws or items of interest that give the gold character and her own unique beauty is a question best left to the individual viewer . . . though it is perfectly clear what Channith herself believes.


Channith’s golden intelligence does not follow particularly academic or analytical lines; her strongest suit is a kind of emotional intelligence the average gold might wish to distance herself from for fear of appearing too "greenish." Channith, however, puts her abilities to pointed, attentive use. She is especially tuned in to the emotions of those around her (naturally with some exceptions); with elegance of demeanor, Channith can play to those emotions to almost any effect she likes. In the gold’s age and wisdom, she finds the subtler forms of manipulation much more to her taste, and far less strenuous than making the fulfillment of her every desire and whim a matter of will.

It’s easy, therefore, for Channith to be magnanimous and superbly gracious. Knowing that you are the center of attention, that everyone is dancing attendance on you, makes it remarkably simple to grant little favors, to share the edges of your own spotlight. All the same, the gold likes being waited on hand and foot. She is an able delegator and slougher-off of distasteful tasks and responsibilities, a cultivator of the perception of herself as indefinably delicate and in need of coddling, protection, sympathy. If Channith is not getting enough attention, one can be sure that everyone will know, and in short order. Better shape up, or better fasten your flying straps and settle in for a bumpy ride.

Best not to be fooled by the faces of Channith’s personality that make her seem like an overgrown, shiny green; the gold is single-minded and ruthless when the mood suits her. Although she is covetous of all attention, Channith exhibits true, honest-to-goodness jealousy for specific, individual males only (and for Bhira, too, but that is beside the point). Once she makes a choice, she will not waver . . . and he’d better not, either. Weyrleadership at stake? Too bad. Channith did not give you permission.