Player Information

Name: Allie

Weyrling I'lir

Name: I'lir
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Preference: Bisexual
Birthing Date: 12.01.2746
Craft: Harper (Apprentice)
Rank: Weyrling
Physical Description:

Litri is short, even for his age, at only about 4'10, and thin as a twig. With gangly arms and legs with elbows and knees sticking out, he could look wiry or even healthy in a gangly sort of way, but somehow he doesn't. Instead, he looks fragile, like the slightest wind would blow blow him over and his limbs would break with a single rough touch. This impression of delicacy is reinforced by his face, with its fine, regular, almost feminine, features dominated by a pair of wide brown eyes and covered by a mop of messy nearly black hair.

Litri's clothes are still picked out by his mother, whose taste is tragically flawed and it's not uncommon to see him walking around the weyr in wildly clashing colors. Litri's biggest wardrobe malfunction, however, would be a floppy red hat that constantly slips down over his forehead and is speckled with dots in an ugly shade of olive green that Litri feels an irrational attachment for and insists on wearing nearly everywhere, regardless of the weather.


Upon first meeting Litri, most people would assume him a quiet, timid, scholarly boy. While it's true that Litri has a genuine fondness for reading and learning, he's certainly not timid. Litri, in fact, is somewhat of a busy-body. Convinced his book learning makes him an expert on human behavior, he will not hesitate to instruct those he considers less well-informed on exactly what they should and shouldn’t be doing. Prone to making projects of them, Litri will never see his interference as meddling, but will stubbornly believe he is merely doing what is best and will be hurt and confused when his efforts are rebuffed.

And rebuffed he will be often as Litri is rarely subtle and frequently veers into condescension. Around those he considers his intellectual equals, Litri can be polite and pleasant, gathering what information from them he can and offering his own opinions as merely that, opinions. Amongst those he considers lesser, however, Litri will ignore any hints that his methods are flawed and merely attribute their reluctance to a stubborn and uneducated mind, believing they will soon enough yield to his “constructive” influence. Behind his domineering and meddling behavior, however, lie very strong protective instincts. Litri does, in fact, genuinely care for these people he is trying to aid and the flaw lies more in his methods than in his motives.

A rule follower and a traditionalist, Litri believes strongly in obeying those above him and respecting his elders. He has a firm respect for academia and established crafts, but little trust in intuition or methods that have not been proven to his satisfaction. He will look down upon any answers garnered by methods other than research that meets his rigorous standards, ignoring their merits, regardless of how seemingly obvious to a less hidebound Candidate.

In terms of his craftwork, Litri is responsible, motivated and steady, if not particularly gifted at any form of music. He has a good sense of pitch, but his voice is nothing spectacular and he knows how to play several instruments competently, but he is exceptional at none. Credit for most of his successes lies with his strong work ethic, rather than any miraculous flash of intuition. Litri is probably best suited for an eventual career as an Archivist, if he continues to pursue his craft, as his talents and low-key demeanor are more suited to the pursuit of knowledge than the entertainment of a crowd.


Mother: Naralie, Drudge, Eastern Weyr. 46
Father: Lir, Journeyman Harper, Eastern Weyr, 52
Brother: Na'lir (formerly Naralir), Wingrider to Brown Ytalith, 25
Foster-Brother: M'kan, Weyrling to Blue Attith, 16

Litri's parents met many turns before his birth, when Naralie was a Candidate who lived for nothing but dragons and Lir was a young Journeyman, newly arrived from the North and still basking in the glow of his new knots. A late night tryst led to Naralie's pregnancy and she decided to keep the baby, even if it prevented her from standing for a few clutches. Naralie never dreamed of giving up her dream entirely, but Lir discouraged Naralie from standing again, as he was uncomfortable with the greater sexual freedom of the weyr and hoped to keep his future wife and his children separate from such things. Desperately in love with him, Naralie agreed.v Naralie's first son, Naralir, grew up to be a tall, strong boy like his father, but always had his mother's love of dragons. An active boy, he was entirely unsuited for the Harper craft and, when this became apparent, Lir decided he wanted another child. Slender, delicate Naralie was already playing foster mother to a rowdy group of children and had no desire to supplement the group with another kid of her own, but Lir persuaded her easily enough and a mere turn before Naralir went off to his apprenticeship in Farmcraft, Litri was born. A small, slender boy, heavily favoring his mother, it was clear from the time he was two that he was unsuited to heavy physical labor, much to his father's relief.

Litri grew up in the shadows of his more dominant brother and his mother's boisterous foster children. Litri made friends with one of these children, Merkan, early on. Despite being older than him, Merkan was always less mature and Litri took on a big-brother role, watching his friend's antics bemusedly and helping him clean up the aftermath. Litri's life remained stable and happy, if unexceptional, for several turns. The first major change in Litri's life occurred when he was eleven turns old and his brother Impressed a brown hatchling on Eastern's sands.

Litri had never been particularly close to his brother, due the immense gap in their ages, and the Impression didn't affect him overly much until the next day when his mother failed to leave her room in the morning. Litri went to fetch her, as one of her older foster children had spilt klah everywhere and heard her crying hysterically. Unsure how to comfort her, Litri returned to his foster siblings and cleaned up the mess, than sent the group off to their chores and lessons, claiming his mother had eaten something that disagreed with her. This was the first time Litri had assumed such responsibility, but these mornings became increasingly frequent as her charges ceased to please Naralie, The others rarely noticed her absence, as she'd never been the most involved of foster mothers, but Litri was always aware of the nights she spent sobbing in her room, mourning something Litri did not know and could not understand.

It was a relief for Litri to begin his apprenticeship. He loved being a Harper and it gave him something to take his mind off of his mother. And it was easier for him to handle his foster siblings when he had an escape route. Around the same time, Naralie's mood started improving, and she took to spending more time helping to care for her foster children. Litri found he no longer had anything to be upset about, which left him time to develop a full scale crush on Merkan, who seemed utterly ignorant of Litri's fondness for him. Litri never told his friend his feelings, which were admittedly the immature ones of an adolescent boy, and to this day has never admitted that he suspects he is attracted to boys as well as girls.

And then Merkan decided he wanted to Stand. Naralie, motivated by a mix of jealousy and genuine concern, advised the still immature boy against it. Litri repeated her advice. He suspected his friend would make a perfectly fine dragon rider, in another turn or two, but at the moment he was simply too immature, not yet ready for the responsibilities that inevitably accompanied Impression. When Litri told Merkan this, his long time friend lashed out at him, declaring that he would be a great dragon rider and Litri would be sorry. The next day, Merkan moved out to the Candidate barracks and he hasn't said a word to Litri since. Litri still watches him sometimes, sitting besides his large blue Attith, and sometimes wants to walk up to him, but can never summon the courage. And now Litri is almost fifteen, almost old enough to Stand. He knows he doesn't have the makings of a great rider, but if he stands, would it be a chance to see M'kan again? Would it be worth it? What dragon would want him? Could he bear to stand and not Impress?

Bronze Belpheroth

Name: Belpheroth
Color: Bronze
Size: 22.8
Wing: None (Weyrling)
Weyr of Impression: Eastern
Age: 0

Much like his egg, there is something casually, almost scruffily callous about this dragon’s appearance. Unusual markings, sharp coloring contrasts, and an alpha, cocksure stance creates an instant and accurate impression that this dragon doesn’t care much what others might think of him - HE happens to think he’s quite a handsome guy, and that’s all that matters to him. The smooth, tawny bronze of his face is framed by a riot of crackling copper that descends down to the base of his long deck, before merging into the dark, oil-slick bistre bronze that stains almost all of the rest of him. His wingsails are a slightly lighter hue, a sandy khaki that is slightly less saturated than the color of his face, and the tip of his long, often-lashing tail shines as rich and vibrant as a fire opal.

Proportioned for speed and maneuverability over sheer staying power, Belpheroth’s form is sleek and streamlined, long of limb and neck and tail and broad of wing. He isn’t a large fellow - in fact, he’ll grow to just a bit under average at 38 ft long, but mention it to him and he’ll sincerely ask you what your point is. It’s never stopped him, after all - but then again, when it comes to the sorts of aerial stunts that Belpheroth attempts to pull off, his stature is probably the least of his worries.


Pride goeth before the fall.

This is a bronze who will forever toy with danger in the most subtle and dangerous of ways: he tempts fate. Prone to the rather irritating habit of assuming that ‘anything you can do, I can do better,’ Belpheroth is more than generous in his supply of self-assured pronouncements of intended victory and over-reaching guesses at his abilities. But there is something bafflingly naive about his arrogance, a genuinely obliviousness to the fact that his innate assumption is not only incorrect, but offensive. After all, if he can prove it, then it’s just the truth and a cool trick or a good story, right? And often enough he can indeed prove it - this bronze will be superbly athletic, taking to flying and formations with an ease that could and perhaps should inspire jealousy in some of his clutchmates.

It will thus be slightly tragic that at heart he’s actually quite a good guy. He cares about his fellow dragons sincerely, and is as quick with a joke as with a boast. He’s also as effusive in his praise of others’ feats as he is of his own - if you do something awesome, be sure that Belpheroth will be the first to tell you just how awesome it indeed was. It’s just that then he’ll proclaim that he can do it better, and try... and quite possibly succeed. Poor guy. If it weren’t that something in his head simply saw the world through the lens of ‘I’m [the best] bronze, I can do it better,’ he’d actually be quite a fun fellow to be around - but most of the world isn’t all that patient, and this bronze may be in danger of finding himself without draconic company much more often than he’d like.

And of course, with all those boasts... well, maybe someone out there really is listening and wants to smack him every now and again, because when things go wrong for this bronze, they will go wrong badly. In drills, play, stunts, or in Threadfall, Belpheroth is a dragon who will always, ALWAYS give it absolutely everything he’s got - and that internal commitment to force himself to succeed and excel is why he’s so good at... well, so much. But that means that this is a dragon who doesn’t merely fumble, doesn’t just not stick a landing... he will crash, and sometimes he will burn.