Post by Inadua on May 26, 2012 15:10:42 GMT -5
Character Info:
Name: T'gir (Tenegir) (face: Singer/Actor Gackt Camui)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Rank: Brown Rider
Family:
Mother is Lady Nanao, Father is Cotholder Manre. Siblings are younger brothers Ermon (24), Amairgin (22), Kade(19), and younger sister Silisse (17)
Aunt Eun, and Uncle Braddach. Cousins: Faleen(28), T’rel(26),Daehyun(25),Rannil(22) and Joon(18), Nanally(15).
Uncle Akon, Aunt Miyane. Cousins: Hirate(31),Kyo(29),Kogan(27),Akiro(25), Kinsel(23),Tenji(18),Kiyone(16)
((some elaboration will be made under History))
Appearance:
Posessing a medium build, being athletic and with a lean musculature that does not show the bulk of size many mature males prefer, T’gir stands at a still imposing height of 6’4”. His voice is moderately deep, using measured and even tones. Some would consider his voice soothing. His hair is black, kept neatly trimmed; short in back but with longer bangs in front, stylized lightly with a plant wax to keep its nearly chin-length tame. Mysterious dark grey eyes reflect an innate wisdom and cunning that might cause others to want to hold him at a comfortable distance were it not for the disaffected, perhaps even easy-going airs, he seemed to have about him. He prizes his lighter olive complexion, avoiding letting his skin become too brown from the sun. An identifying scar runs downward across his front of his right shoulder.
T’gir prefers a finely kept white tunic tucked into dark leather trousers. The pants are tailored to be fairly fitted, but the leather is supple enough to allow comfortable movement. The shirts’ top laces are left loosened about the collar. His belt is darker leather still, nearly black, holding a belt knife. His riding jacket secures asymmetrically across the right breast and the lapels are lined with dark animal fur, except across the lower left lapel where streaks of white fur add stylized contrast. He prefers all neutral colours.
Boots to finish the ensemble, measuring to nearly knee-height were not only functional for warmth in flight or for protection against hot sands, but were decorative in a sense that leather straps and buckles which secured them wrapped fully around the calf, giving an industrial appeal.
A pair of dark leather bracelets are worn around one wrist; one is of thick braided cords. The brownrider also wears a dark leather cord necklace that hangs to a length just beneath the collar bones, a set of skeleton keys hung there. His hands are decorated by three or four plain, well-polished silver bands but without the precious gemstones that Northern-bred holders might wear. One however, possesses a large, polished stone of obsydian, resemblant of the rocks dragons chew to induce their firey breath.
Personality:
Philosophical, charismatic and exuding confidence, he is a resolute, determined type... Albiet, even with confidence that usually draws more friends than enemies, he’s quiet enough, stone-faced enough, that others assume him more difficult to approach than necessary. For that reason, he ends up with usually only a small circle of friends who become involved with him by accident.
More of a listener, he thinks, then speaks, if he speaks at all; but in action, may be rather outgoing. Tending to be prideful; honour driven; somewhat competitive; avoids fights but finds it amusing how many ways one can Talk a situation in other directions; intuitive; is rather easy-going but appears more oft than not as someone who is ever too serious. Never one to pass up opportunity. He is accustomed to being in a position of leadership, but so long as a person of authority is considered worthy of the respect, he has no problem falling into line as a follower/team player. He tries to be a living example of the fact that respect is to be earned every day. T'gir can be manipulative when he sees benefit in it, though not typically for purely selfish motives. He sees the bigger picture in things, ...thinks ahead.
Very Well-spoken, "silver-tongued" as it were. Decent with a blade but probably better with his hands in combat. In either case, his way of manipulating a situation through speech is incredible, and often held in awe by those who know him, including his parents who often had put the ability to good use for matters of business. Without garnering any offense, he tends to be able to bend almost any situation to his will. He possesses An uncanny suavity that is capable of befuddling almost any opposition.
(weakness)
While outwardly, T’gir might seem one of those types that’s “good at everything” & “ thinks himself above the rest of the world” or “too good to fail”, the brown rider actually lives each day in fear of failure. Having grown up under the strict expectations of his father, T’gir still feels as though he lives under that shadow of potential disappointment or wrath. But T’gir uses this as his motivation; he does not allow such a thing to consume him to bring about his own utter ruin -yet, the thought has crossed his mind that maybe he only delays his own destruction by it.
You see, where most dragonrider’s loyalties, expectations, and duties, are all defined by the Weyr, T’gir feels stretched between Weyr and Father. In a way, he fears that one day, those loves in which he places his loyalties will clash, that those expectations will be ripped into two, and that his duties to either will no longer be able to coincide with each other. Would he be able to choose between them?
Oh, how dreaded is that day that would come to tear both sides of his existence apart. Somehow...he would have to find a way of keeping two completely different worlds united. For a desperate, fateful time that perhaps only HE truly shared in, he would be forced to fill the role of ambassador again. He would have to perform the tasks of a master manipulator. And he assumed he would find himself alone in that.
On some days, the fear that he could not let go of -yet wanted no part of- grew into a cold, heavy ball of iron in his gut. Deep down inside, he didn’t want to make any of the choices that would inevitably confront him. But he refused to lose himself to that fear. Yes... perhaps he only postponed his own undoing..but he would fight it; he would find a way to succeed! He had to. As a creature of self-preservation, he must!
Hobbies/Skills:
Reading, sparring for sport, meditating. He enjoys good food and drink...any gathering where he can people-watch. He enjoys travel and being able to venture outside the weyr to show off his dragon. Practice with a long-sword and in unarmed combat are just as favoured pastimes as is a race between dragons.
Pets:
N/A
History:
The Cothold of Halistat governs over a population of about 87 people.
The cothold is governed under a strict structure of family hierarchy. Hierarchy and rules are upheld by instilling a strong sense of fealty, respect, duty, and honour. Typically all those who reside and carry on business within the respectably sized cothold are allowed to do so as long as they adhere to the family's structured system of governance.
The system of governance relies heavily upon honour and duty driven motivation -personal “shame” being a strong deterrent in their eyes. For those however, that decide to act outside acceptable behavioural norms to commit crimes, punishment is enforced in several ways based on a person’s age and familial relationships.
“Family” dynamics play an important role in almost every aspect of day to day life, and in Halistat plays an equally important role in maintaining order, because a guilty persons’ punishment may fall on their guardian/ parent/ older sibling or someone of similar relationship. This reinforces the idea that each person is not just an individual whose actions only affect themselves, but rather, they are an individual whom others depend upon to act honourably in order to maintain social well being of the Cothold as a whole as well as those they care about.
This tends to build strong familial bonds of trust -or mistrust- and also builds up the bonds of trust with other families in the holding -a greater sense of union within the community. This is one of the main reasons that crime is very low at the Cothold and surrounding area; people tend to think twice about their actions when those they love are involved.
T’gir’s father is a man of great wisdom and vision, who values education. Cotholder Manre envisions a southern continent of successful holdings bustling with industry, but understands that the people living there have to rid themselves of other, more pressing troubles before they are able to focus on other aspects of their lives. He is of the stern belief that it is up to the people of the Southern continent to lead Pern in a future of prosperity and preparedness for Thread or any other threat. The North had fallen into chaos, civil unrest, and had ittle means by which to fight Thread. It was Manre’s dream of uniting the populations of the South, bringing them out of their current state of fractured existence, to unite their purpose, organize their industry, protect their roads for safe travel, all under a trio of strong leaders who could garner the approval and respect of the majority of cotholds as well as the Weyrs.
It was because of this vision to ease the pressures on the common man’s daily life that Manre began spearheading an effort somewhat covertly, to ‘enlist’ men of Halistat Cothold and surrounding areas to form an organized group of mercenaries who could begin covertly enacting this process. Their secondary, but no less important task, was to become free agents to act on behalf of the rest of the people to protect their interests -and their lives- without reproach, even when they moved to use force. However, they would be under the most strict of supervision.
T’gir and each of his male siblings, were all of course drafted into the scheme of things by default, since they were to carry on Mare’s legacy in the future and therefore would be taught to be leaders amoungst them.
As the work of the mercenaries expanded, beginning to cover as much territory as they could, T’gir, his brothers, as well as other officers, went out to work in tandem with the heads of other cotholds, settling down for periods of time in these territories to help maintain needs of safety, order and integrity where there was a lack of it. Because they lived and worked alongside locals for sometimes extended periods of time, and frequently trained and recruited locals, it could be difficult to recognize they were a “foreign” or mercenary population at all. They did well blending themselves in to remain inconspicuous.
It was the job of T’gir and his brothers, to play the role of ambassador, making sure that interactions between cothold and mercenary remained beneficial to his father and in the best interest of the people of Halistat as a whole. Great care was taken to arrange business deals that would increase their long term prosperity as well as work to ensure the fealty of these populations the future -or at the least, be in good favour of them.
More recently however, T’gir’d gotten word from his father that Holdless raids were ensuring many more men than usual were enlisting themselves in order to help build defenses about the small stakes of land they called home. Now, the nameless and faceless mercenaries had a true militaristic focus -a focus that could unite them. There was a threat to their livelihoods -even their lives- that lingered ever nearer, and men began to fear. Manre grabbed at the opportunity to begin focusing solely on expanding their forces, recruiting and training to prepare themselves for the holdless.
Small local clans of mercenaries, led by a local officer who answered directly to himself, began forming. who could be united under one banner in the end, because they would learn to respect him once they began winning victories against a common foe. Then, no longer would they be nameless and faceless, because any such organized tactics were not accidental. They would probably have forced the holdless to change their tactical behaviour. Maybe there would be fewer and fewer attacks on dragons. Others would notice. Maybe the Weyrs would notice. They would be curious, and soon, someone on the outside would come to investigate. They would be nameless and faceless no more. They would show the Holdless and the Weyrs that they too, could do battle. Manre would garner the respect of even them.
Within Halistat, T’gir had many uncles, cousins, nephews, etc, who also resided within the area of Halistat. Amoungst them was T'rel who T’gir’d grown up being the best of friends with. T’rel was also the first of the younger generation to acknowledge T’gir for his leadership ability and make an oath of loyalty and brotherhood that would bind them forever. It was their first promise as young men; a real promise that could not be broken.
The Kuchki family were traders who frequently wintered at Halistat. T’gir became familiar with the family and as a child spent time with their boys... one day in particular, the boys were all out exploring in the woods and along rocky banks of nearby rivers. Misfortune struck, driving his friend J’ngi into a creek that normally wouldn't' have posed much of a threat, but being that snows had started melting, the water had become swift and was rapidly rising. They all tried to help but in the end, it was T'gir's brave actions that saved J’ngi. Ever since, T’gir and J’ngi have been close; J’ngi feeling indebted to him for saving his life.
It was at the age of 18 T’gir’d been searched. Siglith’s hatching was a sign of rebirth to him...a renewing of his own life. Siglith became the love of his life and he felt no regrets about leaving his previous existence behind. He had no misgivings however, that what he learned growing up under his father’s strict tutelage would certainly help him find a niche for himself at the weyr. In fact, he relied on that. Without a bronze, he would have to work hard and bide his time to rank himself well in a wing. That was his goal. It would not be a terrible thing to be a Wingsecond one day. His father could be proud of that.
Weyrling training, Graduation, Wing practices... he was diligent in all tasks. With the voice of his father ever in the back of his mind, he only aimed to honour him. If he could not perform the tasks given him then he would be a disgrace to himself.. and everyone else, including his father. And since he could no longer fulfil his father’s wishes of taking over the legacy he built around the cothold and regarding the mercenaries, then the best he could do was to make a fine place for himself within the weyr.
T’gir was always seemed fairly distant, never concerning himself where he found no real reason to. So when the Expedition showed up, he was there on the sidelines, observing. He was not the kind of person that gave all merritt to first impression, so his opinions of Northerners were fabricated in no different a manner than anyone of the Southern continent.
Attacks by the holdless seemed to stir him in a way that might have seemed uncharacteristic. He busied himself more frequently in the company of the bronzerider T’shiro. He wrote letters more frequently to his father also. He knew that Manre would do everything in his power to slow the Holdless progress by recruiting his own from as many wide-spread pools of population as they were able to draft to their cause. They would look at a distance, more like locals who’d just gotten fed up with remaining helpless. He would let them scrimmage on their own terms as individual populations so that by all appearances there would be no central force of command; they continued to appear as no more than fractured forces. Manre had to trust in the local honorary officers he’d set in place, who respected him and likewise trusted in him to do his part. If the Holdless ever tried to pull people or resources from the cotholds now under the watchful gaze of his expanding network, he would quickly tighten his grasp on them... or crush anyone who dared to follow after the manner of the Holdless. His officers were under strict orders to be vigilant regarding the political mood of the people of their respective cotholds and to report any suspicious activity or hearsay. If something came up they should know about, his father would send word.
So far, nothing.
All they could do was continue biding their time.. waiting...that was something T’gir excelled at.
-------------------------------
The holdless are coming!
--------------------------------
When the holdless came to the candidates barracks, he was there. Almost always up before dawn, T’gir’d been enjoying a morning stroll; but this stroll would turn out to be much more interesting than the one he’d initially planned on.
The brownrider leaned into nearby shadows going unnoticed as holdless men went running by, to fulfill their role in some overall plan. T’gir hung back to catch a few by surprise. While he waited for an opportunity, hands slid into pockets, finding momentary repose to consider events as they played out. Anyway...he couldn’t just go running out into a mob of vengeful holdless waving weapons around like that.
“What should we do, Siglith?” T’gir sighed through his words,sharing images and receiving what other information Siglith could relay from a dragon’s point of view.
“You should fly high. Keep an eye out overhead and let me know about anything unsuspecting.”
“Mine! I should be on the ground with you. I can rake them with my claws and knock them down with my tail and wings.”
“And then what should happen if others found out about dragons fighting humans? Rumours would spread and the situation for the weyrs would only get worse. Let me do the fighting this time.”
The rider chuckled, “Don’t worry about me. We will be together the whole time.”
“Be careful, mine!” The voice was painfully plaintive.
T'gir winced.
The rider's attention perked as a female candidate tried to sneak her way into the veritable safety of one of the barracks, but ended up being seen by the few trailing holdless who’d taken it upon themselves to see what chaos they could cause with the candidates.
T’gir’s brow furrowed, offering a sound of distaste. kesk! Forced to make a move.
With quickened steps, T’gir dispersed himself from the veil of shadows as one of the holdless men reached to grab at the candidate. But T’gir got to her first.
Taking a firm grasp on her wrist, the brownrider pulled the girl the rest of the distance, drawing her into his chest. Once she was there, he led her with the light encouragement of a pressure point at the wrist to step around him, easing her into a more defensible position -behind him. The motion was like a dance. Gentleman to the last.
The entire time, T’gir glared past the the girl, never taking that piercing gaze away from intruder before him. When he spoke, his words came laced with venom, “Don’t even think...about touching a woman in my territory. I am a dragonrider... you have ventured unwelcome into my lair.”
Seeming no more than amused by that, the brute, who had obviously not yet charged, eyed T’gir over, looking for any sign of a weapon. He would find none. In all actuality, the only sinister thing about the brown rider was the the most unsettling glare that those stormy gray eyes fixed upon him.
The holdless man couldn’t have looked more utterly unimpressed. In his expression, it almost looked as though he would laugh.
But T’gir did not need to look imposing. In fact, he’d rather not.
With a loud cry, the holdless man lunged, slicing his weapon across T’gir’s torso in a motion that would have drawn more gore than just blood.
Fortunately, by the stance that T’gir’s holdless opponent took, there was really only one way that he could come at him with a blade such as his... it made the start of their fight a little unfair really. But T’gir wasn’t about to tell him that. The dragonrider won the immediate upper-hand.
Whatever the case, that also meant that the poor holdless man would only have one shot to get a good jab in with his knife,... after that, he’d have lost too much ground to win.
So when the holdless man came at him, the brownrider was ready to avert the incoming swipe. He caught his opponent’s wrist in a vice-like grip, having already set his body into a full pivot which allowed the attacker’s strength of momentum to combine with his own power in order to jerk the man up over his right hip, taking him off his feet to land the man solidly on his back.
T’gir kept his grip on the man’s arm, forcing pressure points there that caused the man to let out another, yet hardly victorious outcry. The holdless man squirmed beneath him, dropping the long-knife.
“Mine! More come!”
Indeed, looking up, there were others headed his way.
kesk! From his throat came the sound of disgust again. He was running out of time to deal with this one..
T’gir handled his prisoner more gruffly, controlling the man’s movement by manipulating the wrist joint to put the man in the position he wanted him. Dropping to one knee, the brownrider applied brutal force to throw his victim’s shoulder out of socket, tearing muscle with it and almost simultaneously breaking the holdless man’s forearm.
The man howled in agony, likely never to use the arm again.
Urgency hastened his movement then, returning to the stunned candidate’s side. “Hurry. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
---------------
Dragon Info
Name:Siglith
Color:Brown.
Age:9 turns since hatching (1253)
Description:
This brown has a brave attitude to match his somewhat large build for a brown. He's not a stocky dragon; more lean/ long legged, but does have a defined musculature and appears slightly bigger muscled through the haunches. Prizes his speed and agility; always working on building better endurance more than sheer muscle-size to throw around. His colouring is a lustrous shade of dark sienna that lightens across his underside.
Personality:
Prideful like his rider, he is kind of quiet when it comes to other dragons; he prefers to speak when it matters most. However, it amuses him to no end when he's able to speak into the minds of other humans at unsuspecting times, always curious about their reactions.
Comfortable and trusting with his rider; they are a veritable shadow of each other. They rub off on each other perhaps a little too much. Is it the dragon or the rider who has "said" characteristic or the other way around? Certainly they're two peas of a pod. Siglith is respectful of other humans but if given a cold shoulder, he's likely to simply look down on the dragon or human as a lesser with the attitude 'not all can be as great as us'.
History: Siglith was not a first born like his rider. He was nearly last! But that did not matter to him as long as he was with his. His egg rocked. He was ready to be free of his confines, ready to find the one who was good enough to be his. The end of his nose and dagger like claws raked and finally pierced holes that turned into cracks and cracks that turned into giant shards that began to fall away.
He stole forth from an uncomfortably cramped home, breathing his first breath of fresh air. While eyes blinked away the embrionic goo that had filled his egg, they came into focus, falling over several candidates who watched other dragonettes nervously or with happy, crying eyes.. but none of those were his. With a most determined gait, he moved across the sands, as if he’d already pinpointed that special spiritual energy of his...could he have known? Did he?
The sinuous little brown’s insight seemed surreal as he trekked right into a group of boys who’d been confronted by multiple hatchlings, and he added himself to the mix. T’gir stood somewhat at the far side of them, standing as surefootedly as though nothing but hurricane force wind would have moved him. Just to make sure, Siglith proclaimed with that undying assurance, “I am Siglith. I accept you as mine. Do you accept me?”
There came no answer. The rider he thought was his made no gesture his way, made no sign of ever hearing him. But this was his and he knew it.
A baby blue turned with uncontrolled eagerness and lurched in the direction of the rider he wanted to claim, and even though his was not harmed, Siglith wanted the blue to know he was lost and should search for a rider elsewhere!
Why didn’t he answer? But there was no time to commit thoughts to mental words now.
That was his rider and his brother blue had become a threat to him. Siglith let out a great hiss, posturing himself threateningly, weaving his body between his clumsy brother and the one he knew he’d Impressed. The other turned to move on, recognizing that T’gir was obviously not his. “See! You are mine. No one can else can have you, for it is only I that truly knows you.”
Siglith crept closer to T’gir then, searching for some form of reassurance that T’gir recognized him.
And as was T’gir’s way, it was without words that he expressed his acceptance of their bond..
setting a hand lovingly to adorn the crown of Siglith’s soft head with attentive strokes, Siglith couldn’t help but croon, sharing in that moment of unparallelled love.
First it was touch...Siglith felt the importance of touch to his rider, and that even such simple pats were not dispensed inconsequentially.
Then it was with a return of vociferation, “I accept you, most noble Siglith.”...and those few words became like the consummation of a contract..their contract...a contract that would bind souls.But by their manner toward eachother, Siglith had only just been reunited with T’gir, not just met. Or perhaps it was that they never departed one another; they’d been sealed together in some cosmic vault of decided fates for an eternity past and eternity going forward so to never actually have been separated. Indeed, there was no apparent separation between them. With no need for words, the two automatically fell into step like they’d been together all along.
As they left the sands together, proudly walking, Siglith gave a little, knowing snort into the air, thinking himself something special after such an exciting day. That’s right.. he had his rider now!
-----
More than any other day, Siglith and his rider were forced to exercise that bond of absolute trust and love, when the Holdless arrived on their doorstep.
“What should we do, Siglith?” T’gir sighed through his words, sharing images and what other information Siglith could relay from a dragon’s point of view.
“You should fly high. Keep an eye out overhead and let me know about anything unsuspecting.”
“Mine! I should be on the ground with you. I can rake them with my claws and knock them down with my tail and wings.”
“And then what should happen if others found out about dragons fighting humans? Rumours would spread and the situation for the weyrs would only get worse. Let me do the fighting this time.”
His rider chuckled, “Don’t worry about me. We will be together the whole time.”
“Be careful, mine!” The voice was painfully plaintive.
Though he naturally worried, T’gir’s calm helped ease Siglith’s mind; the strength of the bond they shared built not only on love, but on trust, could not be denied, thusly Siglith felt more compelled to do as T’gir bade him.
The brown circled around the bowl like a vulture high overhead, keeping watch on the movements of people scurrying below.
Only a handful of seconds had passed -maybe two or three minutes at most- before his keen eyes found others headed directly for his.
“Mine! More are on the way!”
Siglith subconsciously sent his rider a fleeting feeling of urgency...and a surge of his own draconic Will to survive. His rider would survive. His rider had assured him he would survive -that they’d be together. He trusted in that. He trusted his.
Clutch: Aeriath(1253)
Hatching Order:
Text Color:
Mind Voice: harmonious baritone
Name: T'gir (Tenegir) (face: Singer/Actor Gackt Camui)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Rank: Brown Rider
Family:
Mother is Lady Nanao, Father is Cotholder Manre. Siblings are younger brothers Ermon (24), Amairgin (22), Kade(19), and younger sister Silisse (17)
Aunt Eun, and Uncle Braddach. Cousins: Faleen(28), T’rel(26),Daehyun(25),Rannil(22) and Joon(18), Nanally(15).
Uncle Akon, Aunt Miyane. Cousins: Hirate(31),Kyo(29),Kogan(27),Akiro(25), Kinsel(23),Tenji(18),Kiyone(16)
((some elaboration will be made under History))
Appearance:
Posessing a medium build, being athletic and with a lean musculature that does not show the bulk of size many mature males prefer, T’gir stands at a still imposing height of 6’4”. His voice is moderately deep, using measured and even tones. Some would consider his voice soothing. His hair is black, kept neatly trimmed; short in back but with longer bangs in front, stylized lightly with a plant wax to keep its nearly chin-length tame. Mysterious dark grey eyes reflect an innate wisdom and cunning that might cause others to want to hold him at a comfortable distance were it not for the disaffected, perhaps even easy-going airs, he seemed to have about him. He prizes his lighter olive complexion, avoiding letting his skin become too brown from the sun. An identifying scar runs downward across his front of his right shoulder.
T’gir prefers a finely kept white tunic tucked into dark leather trousers. The pants are tailored to be fairly fitted, but the leather is supple enough to allow comfortable movement. The shirts’ top laces are left loosened about the collar. His belt is darker leather still, nearly black, holding a belt knife. His riding jacket secures asymmetrically across the right breast and the lapels are lined with dark animal fur, except across the lower left lapel where streaks of white fur add stylized contrast. He prefers all neutral colours.
Boots to finish the ensemble, measuring to nearly knee-height were not only functional for warmth in flight or for protection against hot sands, but were decorative in a sense that leather straps and buckles which secured them wrapped fully around the calf, giving an industrial appeal.
A pair of dark leather bracelets are worn around one wrist; one is of thick braided cords. The brownrider also wears a dark leather cord necklace that hangs to a length just beneath the collar bones, a set of skeleton keys hung there. His hands are decorated by three or four plain, well-polished silver bands but without the precious gemstones that Northern-bred holders might wear. One however, possesses a large, polished stone of obsydian, resemblant of the rocks dragons chew to induce their firey breath.
Personality:
Philosophical, charismatic and exuding confidence, he is a resolute, determined type... Albiet, even with confidence that usually draws more friends than enemies, he’s quiet enough, stone-faced enough, that others assume him more difficult to approach than necessary. For that reason, he ends up with usually only a small circle of friends who become involved with him by accident.
More of a listener, he thinks, then speaks, if he speaks at all; but in action, may be rather outgoing. Tending to be prideful; honour driven; somewhat competitive; avoids fights but finds it amusing how many ways one can Talk a situation in other directions; intuitive; is rather easy-going but appears more oft than not as someone who is ever too serious. Never one to pass up opportunity. He is accustomed to being in a position of leadership, but so long as a person of authority is considered worthy of the respect, he has no problem falling into line as a follower/team player. He tries to be a living example of the fact that respect is to be earned every day. T'gir can be manipulative when he sees benefit in it, though not typically for purely selfish motives. He sees the bigger picture in things, ...thinks ahead.
Very Well-spoken, "silver-tongued" as it were. Decent with a blade but probably better with his hands in combat. In either case, his way of manipulating a situation through speech is incredible, and often held in awe by those who know him, including his parents who often had put the ability to good use for matters of business. Without garnering any offense, he tends to be able to bend almost any situation to his will. He possesses An uncanny suavity that is capable of befuddling almost any opposition.
(weakness)
While outwardly, T’gir might seem one of those types that’s “good at everything” & “ thinks himself above the rest of the world” or “too good to fail”, the brown rider actually lives each day in fear of failure. Having grown up under the strict expectations of his father, T’gir still feels as though he lives under that shadow of potential disappointment or wrath. But T’gir uses this as his motivation; he does not allow such a thing to consume him to bring about his own utter ruin -yet, the thought has crossed his mind that maybe he only delays his own destruction by it.
You see, where most dragonrider’s loyalties, expectations, and duties, are all defined by the Weyr, T’gir feels stretched between Weyr and Father. In a way, he fears that one day, those loves in which he places his loyalties will clash, that those expectations will be ripped into two, and that his duties to either will no longer be able to coincide with each other. Would he be able to choose between them?
Oh, how dreaded is that day that would come to tear both sides of his existence apart. Somehow...he would have to find a way of keeping two completely different worlds united. For a desperate, fateful time that perhaps only HE truly shared in, he would be forced to fill the role of ambassador again. He would have to perform the tasks of a master manipulator. And he assumed he would find himself alone in that.
On some days, the fear that he could not let go of -yet wanted no part of- grew into a cold, heavy ball of iron in his gut. Deep down inside, he didn’t want to make any of the choices that would inevitably confront him. But he refused to lose himself to that fear. Yes... perhaps he only postponed his own undoing..but he would fight it; he would find a way to succeed! He had to. As a creature of self-preservation, he must!
Hobbies/Skills:
Reading, sparring for sport, meditating. He enjoys good food and drink...any gathering where he can people-watch. He enjoys travel and being able to venture outside the weyr to show off his dragon. Practice with a long-sword and in unarmed combat are just as favoured pastimes as is a race between dragons.
Pets:
N/A
History:
The Cothold of Halistat governs over a population of about 87 people.
The cothold is governed under a strict structure of family hierarchy. Hierarchy and rules are upheld by instilling a strong sense of fealty, respect, duty, and honour. Typically all those who reside and carry on business within the respectably sized cothold are allowed to do so as long as they adhere to the family's structured system of governance.
The system of governance relies heavily upon honour and duty driven motivation -personal “shame” being a strong deterrent in their eyes. For those however, that decide to act outside acceptable behavioural norms to commit crimes, punishment is enforced in several ways based on a person’s age and familial relationships.
“Family” dynamics play an important role in almost every aspect of day to day life, and in Halistat plays an equally important role in maintaining order, because a guilty persons’ punishment may fall on their guardian/ parent/ older sibling or someone of similar relationship. This reinforces the idea that each person is not just an individual whose actions only affect themselves, but rather, they are an individual whom others depend upon to act honourably in order to maintain social well being of the Cothold as a whole as well as those they care about.
This tends to build strong familial bonds of trust -or mistrust- and also builds up the bonds of trust with other families in the holding -a greater sense of union within the community. This is one of the main reasons that crime is very low at the Cothold and surrounding area; people tend to think twice about their actions when those they love are involved.
T’gir’s father is a man of great wisdom and vision, who values education. Cotholder Manre envisions a southern continent of successful holdings bustling with industry, but understands that the people living there have to rid themselves of other, more pressing troubles before they are able to focus on other aspects of their lives. He is of the stern belief that it is up to the people of the Southern continent to lead Pern in a future of prosperity and preparedness for Thread or any other threat. The North had fallen into chaos, civil unrest, and had ittle means by which to fight Thread. It was Manre’s dream of uniting the populations of the South, bringing them out of their current state of fractured existence, to unite their purpose, organize their industry, protect their roads for safe travel, all under a trio of strong leaders who could garner the approval and respect of the majority of cotholds as well as the Weyrs.
It was because of this vision to ease the pressures on the common man’s daily life that Manre began spearheading an effort somewhat covertly, to ‘enlist’ men of Halistat Cothold and surrounding areas to form an organized group of mercenaries who could begin covertly enacting this process. Their secondary, but no less important task, was to become free agents to act on behalf of the rest of the people to protect their interests -and their lives- without reproach, even when they moved to use force. However, they would be under the most strict of supervision.
T’gir and each of his male siblings, were all of course drafted into the scheme of things by default, since they were to carry on Mare’s legacy in the future and therefore would be taught to be leaders amoungst them.
As the work of the mercenaries expanded, beginning to cover as much territory as they could, T’gir, his brothers, as well as other officers, went out to work in tandem with the heads of other cotholds, settling down for periods of time in these territories to help maintain needs of safety, order and integrity where there was a lack of it. Because they lived and worked alongside locals for sometimes extended periods of time, and frequently trained and recruited locals, it could be difficult to recognize they were a “foreign” or mercenary population at all. They did well blending themselves in to remain inconspicuous.
It was the job of T’gir and his brothers, to play the role of ambassador, making sure that interactions between cothold and mercenary remained beneficial to his father and in the best interest of the people of Halistat as a whole. Great care was taken to arrange business deals that would increase their long term prosperity as well as work to ensure the fealty of these populations the future -or at the least, be in good favour of them.
More recently however, T’gir’d gotten word from his father that Holdless raids were ensuring many more men than usual were enlisting themselves in order to help build defenses about the small stakes of land they called home. Now, the nameless and faceless mercenaries had a true militaristic focus -a focus that could unite them. There was a threat to their livelihoods -even their lives- that lingered ever nearer, and men began to fear. Manre grabbed at the opportunity to begin focusing solely on expanding their forces, recruiting and training to prepare themselves for the holdless.
Small local clans of mercenaries, led by a local officer who answered directly to himself, began forming. who could be united under one banner in the end, because they would learn to respect him once they began winning victories against a common foe. Then, no longer would they be nameless and faceless, because any such organized tactics were not accidental. They would probably have forced the holdless to change their tactical behaviour. Maybe there would be fewer and fewer attacks on dragons. Others would notice. Maybe the Weyrs would notice. They would be curious, and soon, someone on the outside would come to investigate. They would be nameless and faceless no more. They would show the Holdless and the Weyrs that they too, could do battle. Manre would garner the respect of even them.
Within Halistat, T’gir had many uncles, cousins, nephews, etc, who also resided within the area of Halistat. Amoungst them was T'rel who T’gir’d grown up being the best of friends with. T’rel was also the first of the younger generation to acknowledge T’gir for his leadership ability and make an oath of loyalty and brotherhood that would bind them forever. It was their first promise as young men; a real promise that could not be broken.
The Kuchki family were traders who frequently wintered at Halistat. T’gir became familiar with the family and as a child spent time with their boys... one day in particular, the boys were all out exploring in the woods and along rocky banks of nearby rivers. Misfortune struck, driving his friend J’ngi into a creek that normally wouldn't' have posed much of a threat, but being that snows had started melting, the water had become swift and was rapidly rising. They all tried to help but in the end, it was T'gir's brave actions that saved J’ngi. Ever since, T’gir and J’ngi have been close; J’ngi feeling indebted to him for saving his life.
It was at the age of 18 T’gir’d been searched. Siglith’s hatching was a sign of rebirth to him...a renewing of his own life. Siglith became the love of his life and he felt no regrets about leaving his previous existence behind. He had no misgivings however, that what he learned growing up under his father’s strict tutelage would certainly help him find a niche for himself at the weyr. In fact, he relied on that. Without a bronze, he would have to work hard and bide his time to rank himself well in a wing. That was his goal. It would not be a terrible thing to be a Wingsecond one day. His father could be proud of that.
Weyrling training, Graduation, Wing practices... he was diligent in all tasks. With the voice of his father ever in the back of his mind, he only aimed to honour him. If he could not perform the tasks given him then he would be a disgrace to himself.. and everyone else, including his father. And since he could no longer fulfil his father’s wishes of taking over the legacy he built around the cothold and regarding the mercenaries, then the best he could do was to make a fine place for himself within the weyr.
T’gir was always seemed fairly distant, never concerning himself where he found no real reason to. So when the Expedition showed up, he was there on the sidelines, observing. He was not the kind of person that gave all merritt to first impression, so his opinions of Northerners were fabricated in no different a manner than anyone of the Southern continent.
Attacks by the holdless seemed to stir him in a way that might have seemed uncharacteristic. He busied himself more frequently in the company of the bronzerider T’shiro. He wrote letters more frequently to his father also. He knew that Manre would do everything in his power to slow the Holdless progress by recruiting his own from as many wide-spread pools of population as they were able to draft to their cause. They would look at a distance, more like locals who’d just gotten fed up with remaining helpless. He would let them scrimmage on their own terms as individual populations so that by all appearances there would be no central force of command; they continued to appear as no more than fractured forces. Manre had to trust in the local honorary officers he’d set in place, who respected him and likewise trusted in him to do his part. If the Holdless ever tried to pull people or resources from the cotholds now under the watchful gaze of his expanding network, he would quickly tighten his grasp on them... or crush anyone who dared to follow after the manner of the Holdless. His officers were under strict orders to be vigilant regarding the political mood of the people of their respective cotholds and to report any suspicious activity or hearsay. If something came up they should know about, his father would send word.
So far, nothing.
All they could do was continue biding their time.. waiting...that was something T’gir excelled at.
-------------------------------
The holdless are coming!
--------------------------------
When the holdless came to the candidates barracks, he was there. Almost always up before dawn, T’gir’d been enjoying a morning stroll; but this stroll would turn out to be much more interesting than the one he’d initially planned on.
The brownrider leaned into nearby shadows going unnoticed as holdless men went running by, to fulfill their role in some overall plan. T’gir hung back to catch a few by surprise. While he waited for an opportunity, hands slid into pockets, finding momentary repose to consider events as they played out. Anyway...he couldn’t just go running out into a mob of vengeful holdless waving weapons around like that.
“What should we do, Siglith?” T’gir sighed through his words,sharing images and receiving what other information Siglith could relay from a dragon’s point of view.
“You should fly high. Keep an eye out overhead and let me know about anything unsuspecting.”
“Mine! I should be on the ground with you. I can rake them with my claws and knock them down with my tail and wings.”
“And then what should happen if others found out about dragons fighting humans? Rumours would spread and the situation for the weyrs would only get worse. Let me do the fighting this time.”
The rider chuckled, “Don’t worry about me. We will be together the whole time.”
“Be careful, mine!” The voice was painfully plaintive.
T'gir winced.
The rider's attention perked as a female candidate tried to sneak her way into the veritable safety of one of the barracks, but ended up being seen by the few trailing holdless who’d taken it upon themselves to see what chaos they could cause with the candidates.
T’gir’s brow furrowed, offering a sound of distaste. kesk! Forced to make a move.
With quickened steps, T’gir dispersed himself from the veil of shadows as one of the holdless men reached to grab at the candidate. But T’gir got to her first.
Taking a firm grasp on her wrist, the brownrider pulled the girl the rest of the distance, drawing her into his chest. Once she was there, he led her with the light encouragement of a pressure point at the wrist to step around him, easing her into a more defensible position -behind him. The motion was like a dance. Gentleman to the last.
The entire time, T’gir glared past the the girl, never taking that piercing gaze away from intruder before him. When he spoke, his words came laced with venom, “Don’t even think...about touching a woman in my territory. I am a dragonrider... you have ventured unwelcome into my lair.”
Seeming no more than amused by that, the brute, who had obviously not yet charged, eyed T’gir over, looking for any sign of a weapon. He would find none. In all actuality, the only sinister thing about the brown rider was the the most unsettling glare that those stormy gray eyes fixed upon him.
The holdless man couldn’t have looked more utterly unimpressed. In his expression, it almost looked as though he would laugh.
But T’gir did not need to look imposing. In fact, he’d rather not.
With a loud cry, the holdless man lunged, slicing his weapon across T’gir’s torso in a motion that would have drawn more gore than just blood.
Fortunately, by the stance that T’gir’s holdless opponent took, there was really only one way that he could come at him with a blade such as his... it made the start of their fight a little unfair really. But T’gir wasn’t about to tell him that. The dragonrider won the immediate upper-hand.
Whatever the case, that also meant that the poor holdless man would only have one shot to get a good jab in with his knife,... after that, he’d have lost too much ground to win.
So when the holdless man came at him, the brownrider was ready to avert the incoming swipe. He caught his opponent’s wrist in a vice-like grip, having already set his body into a full pivot which allowed the attacker’s strength of momentum to combine with his own power in order to jerk the man up over his right hip, taking him off his feet to land the man solidly on his back.
T’gir kept his grip on the man’s arm, forcing pressure points there that caused the man to let out another, yet hardly victorious outcry. The holdless man squirmed beneath him, dropping the long-knife.
“Mine! More come!”
Indeed, looking up, there were others headed his way.
kesk! From his throat came the sound of disgust again. He was running out of time to deal with this one..
T’gir handled his prisoner more gruffly, controlling the man’s movement by manipulating the wrist joint to put the man in the position he wanted him. Dropping to one knee, the brownrider applied brutal force to throw his victim’s shoulder out of socket, tearing muscle with it and almost simultaneously breaking the holdless man’s forearm.
The man howled in agony, likely never to use the arm again.
Urgency hastened his movement then, returning to the stunned candidate’s side. “Hurry. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
---------------
Dragon Info
Name:Siglith
Color:Brown.
Age:9 turns since hatching (1253)
Description:
This brown has a brave attitude to match his somewhat large build for a brown. He's not a stocky dragon; more lean/ long legged, but does have a defined musculature and appears slightly bigger muscled through the haunches. Prizes his speed and agility; always working on building better endurance more than sheer muscle-size to throw around. His colouring is a lustrous shade of dark sienna that lightens across his underside.
Personality:
Prideful like his rider, he is kind of quiet when it comes to other dragons; he prefers to speak when it matters most. However, it amuses him to no end when he's able to speak into the minds of other humans at unsuspecting times, always curious about their reactions.
Comfortable and trusting with his rider; they are a veritable shadow of each other. They rub off on each other perhaps a little too much. Is it the dragon or the rider who has "said" characteristic or the other way around? Certainly they're two peas of a pod. Siglith is respectful of other humans but if given a cold shoulder, he's likely to simply look down on the dragon or human as a lesser with the attitude 'not all can be as great as us'.
History: Siglith was not a first born like his rider. He was nearly last! But that did not matter to him as long as he was with his. His egg rocked. He was ready to be free of his confines, ready to find the one who was good enough to be his. The end of his nose and dagger like claws raked and finally pierced holes that turned into cracks and cracks that turned into giant shards that began to fall away.
He stole forth from an uncomfortably cramped home, breathing his first breath of fresh air. While eyes blinked away the embrionic goo that had filled his egg, they came into focus, falling over several candidates who watched other dragonettes nervously or with happy, crying eyes.. but none of those were his. With a most determined gait, he moved across the sands, as if he’d already pinpointed that special spiritual energy of his...could he have known? Did he?
The sinuous little brown’s insight seemed surreal as he trekked right into a group of boys who’d been confronted by multiple hatchlings, and he added himself to the mix. T’gir stood somewhat at the far side of them, standing as surefootedly as though nothing but hurricane force wind would have moved him. Just to make sure, Siglith proclaimed with that undying assurance, “I am Siglith. I accept you as mine. Do you accept me?”
There came no answer. The rider he thought was his made no gesture his way, made no sign of ever hearing him. But this was his and he knew it.
A baby blue turned with uncontrolled eagerness and lurched in the direction of the rider he wanted to claim, and even though his was not harmed, Siglith wanted the blue to know he was lost and should search for a rider elsewhere!
Why didn’t he answer? But there was no time to commit thoughts to mental words now.
That was his rider and his brother blue had become a threat to him. Siglith let out a great hiss, posturing himself threateningly, weaving his body between his clumsy brother and the one he knew he’d Impressed. The other turned to move on, recognizing that T’gir was obviously not his. “See! You are mine. No one can else can have you, for it is only I that truly knows you.”
Siglith crept closer to T’gir then, searching for some form of reassurance that T’gir recognized him.
And as was T’gir’s way, it was without words that he expressed his acceptance of their bond..
setting a hand lovingly to adorn the crown of Siglith’s soft head with attentive strokes, Siglith couldn’t help but croon, sharing in that moment of unparallelled love.
First it was touch...Siglith felt the importance of touch to his rider, and that even such simple pats were not dispensed inconsequentially.
Then it was with a return of vociferation, “I accept you, most noble Siglith.”...and those few words became like the consummation of a contract..their contract...a contract that would bind souls.But by their manner toward eachother, Siglith had only just been reunited with T’gir, not just met. Or perhaps it was that they never departed one another; they’d been sealed together in some cosmic vault of decided fates for an eternity past and eternity going forward so to never actually have been separated. Indeed, there was no apparent separation between them. With no need for words, the two automatically fell into step like they’d been together all along.
As they left the sands together, proudly walking, Siglith gave a little, knowing snort into the air, thinking himself something special after such an exciting day. That’s right.. he had his rider now!
-----
More than any other day, Siglith and his rider were forced to exercise that bond of absolute trust and love, when the Holdless arrived on their doorstep.
“What should we do, Siglith?” T’gir sighed through his words, sharing images and what other information Siglith could relay from a dragon’s point of view.
“You should fly high. Keep an eye out overhead and let me know about anything unsuspecting.”
“Mine! I should be on the ground with you. I can rake them with my claws and knock them down with my tail and wings.”
“And then what should happen if others found out about dragons fighting humans? Rumours would spread and the situation for the weyrs would only get worse. Let me do the fighting this time.”
His rider chuckled, “Don’t worry about me. We will be together the whole time.”
“Be careful, mine!” The voice was painfully plaintive.
Though he naturally worried, T’gir’s calm helped ease Siglith’s mind; the strength of the bond they shared built not only on love, but on trust, could not be denied, thusly Siglith felt more compelled to do as T’gir bade him.
The brown circled around the bowl like a vulture high overhead, keeping watch on the movements of people scurrying below.
Only a handful of seconds had passed -maybe two or three minutes at most- before his keen eyes found others headed directly for his.
“Mine! More are on the way!”
Siglith subconsciously sent his rider a fleeting feeling of urgency...and a surge of his own draconic Will to survive. His rider would survive. His rider had assured him he would survive -that they’d be together. He trusted in that. He trusted his.
Clutch: Aeriath(1253)
Hatching Order:
Text Color:
Mind Voice: harmonious baritone
Ah, no Wing plans in specific right now. He doesn't have to be in the same wing as any of my others. Just throw him where you need him. >D If I ever finish up his cousin, T'rel, they'll love being in the same wing, but Imma get these guys started first and not overwhelm myself too much. lol.
