Post by Cait on Feb 6, 2015 16:09:18 GMT -8
Name: Jisralna Maltovin
Pronunciation: jhiss-RAHL-nuh mahl-TOE-vihn
Gender: Female
Age: 26
Turnday: 51.10.25
Weyr: Ista Weyr
Rank: Junior Weyrwoman
Family:
Liralna Southernborn; mother; master weaver; 43; weaver hall (Southern Boll)
J’dar Maltovin of Black Male Asenith; father; wingrider; 58; Ista Weyr formerly of Igen Weyr
Weyrmate: None
Friends:
M’lyn of Blue Crelliseth; wingrider; 30; Ista Weyr
O’tryn of Bronze Kenmarrith; weyrleader; ??; Ista Weyr
Myrona of Gold Jellisaenth; weyrwoman; ??; Ista Weyr
Veladrie of White Male Lullath; Cadidate Master; 36; Ista Weyr
Pets:
Mischief (Missy); female brick firelizard; 8 turns
Missy tends to think that her handler’s weaver projects are toys and more often than not gets herself into trouble. She likes to steal skeins of floss.
Appearance: Possessing vibrant red-gold hair that falls in thick, rolling waves past the backs of her knees, it is perhaps the trait that draws the most attention and is committed to memory. But Jisralna is so much more than her hair. Elegance and grace practically oozes from her pores; it’s in the way she carries her tall, willowy frame. Jisralna’s features are just as refined and delicate as the rest of her with a narrow face with high cheekbones and a straight, sloping nose; her lips are a tad on the thin side but usually rest in a faint smile. Her complexion is pale and scattered quite liberally with freckles; it is a topic of great debate--and secret bets--amongst the male riders of Ista if she is freckled from head to toe as none have seen her undressed.
Typically her wardrobe consists of dresses and gowns, many of them made by her own skilled hands. Preferring shades of brown, blue and green, she will often accent them with bits of embroidery at collar, hem or cuff. Categorically despising riding gear, she has developed her own with a type of split skirt combined with a loose fitting linen pant. Her jackets, while still made of hide, are more tailored to suit her feminine tastes and it is no wonder that she is disputed as the most stylish Goldrider on Pern all while looking more like a Lady Holder than a Dragonrider.
Personality: Quiet and reserved, Jisralna has an air of gentleness about her that tends to put people at ease. She carries herself with a calm, sophisticated grace that was taught to her by her mother at Weaver Hall. Because of this, were it not for the shoulder knots affixed to her gowns, it would be easy to mistake her for the misplaced sister or cousin of Lord Holder. Mild of manner and with a soft voice, it isn’t often that Jisralna speaks; all of this gives the appearance of a gentle and perhaps simple young woman. However, when she does speak it is usually with great aforethought and contemplation and the words are often wise beyond her years. As such, her soft voice can often cut through a room full of squabbling riders and weyrfolk with little effort. She will not raise her voice; ever. Instead she instills her unshakable will into her words so that it can be felt reverberating in each syllable.
Her will is strong; the will to not lose herself or the things she loves to the Weyr; her conservative sensibilities about love and intimacy have remained strong since being Searched from Weaver Hall. Her love of weaving has also been sustained though she understands full well that concerns of the Weyr come before those of her heart. Still, she has yet to reconcile the fact that when Permeliath rises, she will have no love or intimacy, the the bond will be one of her dragon’s choosing and for the good of Ista. Because of this, she has kept herself away from the men of the weyr, believing that it would be too cruel to allow her heart to grow fond of a man only to be forced to betray him. While she has adapted to weyr life in her own way, it isn’t likely that she will ever fully accept the concept of sharing intimacy with more than one man, much less with a man she does not love. She does, however, understand that she does not have a choice.
In the three years she has been at Ista, not once has anyone seen even a glimpse of her temper. They know the soft-spoken, polite and gentle Jisralna. However, should someone manage to rile her--and it would have to be a heinous act indeed--they would find her every bit as formidable as her dragon. A virtual virago, while she still does not raise her voice, her words become cold and edge like the sharpest of blades. Her attacks are verbal and given her endless observation, she can and will strike at any perceived weakness in the person who has wronged her so grievously or thoroughly offended her sensibilities. Again, though, it takes an outrageous act of insensitivity, often directed at those whom she loves or those who are defenseless to incur the wrath of the Junior Weyrwoman, but it is certainly something to be avoided if you want your pride to remain intact.
History: Born of the brief union at a Gather between an apprentice Weaver and a black rider from Igen, the pregnancy derailed the then seventeen year old’s intentions of finishing her training and walking the tables. Naturally, the dragonrider didn’t stick around though he did visit shortly after Jisralna’s birth and consented to giving her his name though he readily admitted that he didn’t have much else to offer. He wasn’t the settling sort and quite frankly, Liarlna wasn’t the sort that would survive well at the Weyr. This left Liralna bitter and slightly jaded about the character of all male dragonriders. A biased which she, unfortunately, had no qualms sharing with her young daughter. When Jisralna was old enough to be kept occupied with simple tasks like using a drop spindle or practicing her stitches, Liralna was allowed to continue her training and why Jisralna was five, her mother walked the tables.
The new Journeywoman was sent to Southern Boll with her daughter on her hip to work for the Hold there, and more specifically as a seamstress to the Lady Holder. By the time she was six, Jisralna was splitting her time with the Lady Holder’s children in their lessons and learning the craft at her mother’s side. It is how she ended up with far better manners than her mother ever had and part of the reason her sensibilities are so conservative; they were lessons intended for the Lord Holder’s daughters. However, her mother taught her a lesson that would stick with her almost indefinitely; never let a dragonrider near your heart, he will not know what to do with it and will simply drop it in the dirt.
That a many other lessons that warned her of the dangers of a dragonrider’s attention were ingrained in her mind at a young age until she found herself glancing warily at any dragon that descended upon Southern Boll. Once, at the age of ten, not long before her mother intended to send her to Weaver Hall--as she showed a great deal of promise as a weaver--J’rad appeared at Southern Boll, on a Search. At first Liralna tried to deny him the chance to visit with the daughter he’d only seen a handful of times since her birth, and only ever from afar or anonymously.
It was useless, however, as she ended up running into him on her own. It was fully his intention to take her back to Igen and teach her of dragons. The Blackrider explained who he was, and in her innocent excitement she unleashed on him her entire life’s story and her plans to become a weaver just like her mother. In the face of such forthcomingness from what he had observed to be a rather somber and quiet child, he backed off. There were others he could Search and he wasn’t so heartless that he’d take Liralna’s child from her. Instead he offered to escort the child to Weaver Hall himself; it took some convincing but Liralna consented so long as she got to go with. So, at the age of ten, Jisralna met her father officially for the first time that she could remember and went off to apprentice at Weaver Hall, arriving in style on the Black Asenith when before they would have just arrived on a runner or in the back of a cart.
While at Weaver Hall, Jisralna proved to be quite the student, dedicated to her studies and quite polite and even-tempered for a child. She proved to be her mother’s child, excelling in the art of designing and making clothing, with an eye for shape and color. It wasn’t until she was in her mid teens that her first “outburst” as it were, surfaced. A younger child who was being picked on happened to run into the room in which she was working to hide. Possessing a fondness of children and a dislike of such behavior, one of the Master Weavers entered the room to the sound of several of the apprentices shuffling out with heads hung low; at least one of them was in tears. Jisralna’s expression was completely serene but the younger child was looking at her with something close to awe.
Her training continued and on her eighteenth birthday her father visited again. He brought her the gift of a firelizard egg and the request that she join him at Ista where he had recently transferred. A weaver would be needed and there was also a clutch due to be laid soon enough. Jisralna asked for time to consider it and J’rad agreed that it would be best to make a decision after she’d thought about it. It was agreed that she would give him his answer the day after she walked the tables and was offered her choice of posts. In the interim, the firelizard egg she’d been given had hatched into a vivacious little female brick who earned herself the name Mischief as she got herself tangled in yarn almost constantly and took to harding Jisralna’s embroidery floss.
When the time came, the day after she’d walked the tables to become a Journeywoman Weaver, her mother did her best to persuade her daughter to take any post but Ista. But in the end, she felt she had at least some obligation to her father, regardless of what her mother said about him and his kind. Besides, the weyr did need a weaver and she did want to see a dragon clutch. After assuring her mother that she would not be lost to a dragon or ruined by a rider, J’rad took her and her weaver supplies to the island Weyr where she settled in. The Master Weaver was glad for the help and was happy to find that she had a bit of experience with tailoring leathers as well as linens.
The first clutch that Jisralna experienced was breathtaking and while she still held fast to her apprehensions about the male riders of the Weyr, she could not, in good faith, extend such apprehensions to their beasts. As such, it wasn’t uncommon for her to be seen in the company of Asenith or any number of other dragons she’d befriended, including the junior queen Jellisaenth whose rider liked a bit of embroidery on her tunics, silently working on this project or that for the Master Harper. It wasn’t until she was 23 that things changed at the weyr. The senior queen passed when her elderly rider died in her sleep and Myrona became Weyrwoman in earnest, though in truth she’d been doing the paperwork for ages. O’tryn’s Kenmarrith was the one to catch her and the man, who Jisralna had hesitantly formed a friendship with as Missy had formed a fondness for his beard (of all things), was made Weyrleader of Ista Weyr.
Shortly after her twenty-fourth birthday, a clutch was laid and with more than just her father prodding her, Jisralna agreed to stand as candidate just once. Once was all it took. When the golden shell broke free of the little glistening beast within, the bond that was made would never be broken. Jisralna watched as the dainty gold shook herself free from clinging fragments of her shell and then turned a discerning gaze on the women gathered around her. One of the others inched closer and Jisralna frowned; they had been specifically told not to crowd her when she hatched but it was not her place to remind the girl.
No, that would be my place. I will have none but you, Jisralna Maltovin and I will...dismantle any of these lesser girls for trying to take me from you.
“They will not take you from me, Permeliath. Come away now, you will feel better once you have eaten.”
The other hopefuls for the golden egg--especially those particularly new to the weyr--had never heard the weaver turned candidate string more than a few words together at a time. There were looks of incredulity and astonishment as well as resentment and dejection. Jisralna was oblivious to them all as she had eyes only for the bright little gold who was still contemplating taking down one of the other candidates who had taken another step towards her. Rather than speak again, Jisralna clasped her hands in front of her and cleared her throat softly. After a moment longer of hesitation, the golden head swung around and her faceted eyes shifted from the swirling torrent of hunger and agitation to the bursts of vibrant colors that signified Impression. Only those standing to either side of Jisralna had even heard the woman speak, anyone in the stands would have been entirely shocked but the seemingly sudden change of focus and Impression.
Conflicting stories about Impression circulated before being drowned out by disbelief and a bit of concern that J’rad’s meek little weaver daughter who avoided the company of any unattached male in the weyr had just Impressed to a Golden Queen. More concerns rose when the hatchling’s mercurial nature was revealed, though what very fewe realized was that Jisralna was perfectly capable of keeping the young gold from doing anything too irrational when she was in a mood. Many of them saw her as a delicate little weaver that didn’t know the first thing about living in the weyr despite the fact that she had in fact resided there for nearly six years. Of course rumors would always be at the ready in regards to a person that kept their own council.
Weyrling training went quite well as Jisralna had the support of not only her father but the Werwoman and Weyrleader as well as a Bluerider she’d befriended who had expressed that he had absolutely no romantic intentions for her and was infact “using Jisralna shamelessly to get pretty things embroidered on his clothing”. Before she knew it, Permeliath was nearly full grown and she had taken up the mantle of junior weyrwoman, assisting Myrona with various duties and her weaver craft becoming more of a hobby. Permeliath has yet to rise in her Maiden Flight and while anxious about the resulting intimacy with a potential stranger, Jisralna has resigned herself to her fate even if she does not like the idea of it.
Adoption?: npc for now
Dragon's Name: Permeliath
Dragon’s Gender: Female
Dragon's Age: 2 Turns (51.13.28)
Dragon's Color: Gold
Dragon’s Size: 43 feet
Dragon's Appearance: Though she is still growing, it is clear that Permeliath will not be a behemoth Gold. No, she will be a perfectly average in length Gold with perfectly proportioned wings and tail. In fact, every feature of the young Gold is exactly what you might call to mind when asked to picture a gold. She has a long and graceful build, seeming elegant and almost delicate without losing that air of awesome power that seems to linger around the Queen like a fog. She holds herself with the regality and poise that one would expect and can even manage to look commanding while taking a nap near the hunting grounds. Her hide, which is the color of gold once it has been melted down and refined, shines just as brightly as any fancy gold bauble made by a jeweler and every bit as flawless as one of Jisralna’s gather gowns. It is expected that she will be quite the sight when she Rises for the first time.
Dragon's Personality: Despite being the prime example of a Gold dragon in size and appearance, Permeliath is a bit...off. Her moods swing wide and often and it is a great wonder how her rider handles the finicky beast much less tolerates her. As a hatchling Permeliath was highly unpredictable and even with age, she has not seemed to mellow in the slightest. There are times when the gold is sweet as any silver, obliging and tender and almost motherly as she fusses over the other dragons around her. But at the drop of a pin and virtually without warning the emotional tides can come crashing in and suddenly every little thing is a slight against her.
That busy brown didn’t answer her croon and it clearly meant that he did not think she was beautiful. That little white shied away and clearly that meant that it thought she was too big! Sometimes even Jisralna is not safe from her irrational fits and is hard pressed to calm Permeliath. Still, just as quickly as her ire explodes it can disappear and you find yourself in the presence of a reserved, contemplative young beauty who is more than content to sit on a sunny rock and observe the activity of the weyr. It is this ever changing state that has people taking bets on just how explosive her first flight will be and whether or not her rider will be able to control her.
Dragon's History: At the young age of two, not much of note has happened to Permeliath. A mauling was narrowly avoided at her hatching, as were several minor incidents during her training. Sooner rather than later, she is due to fly in her Maiden Flight. Despite her rider's obvious discomfort over the situation, it is something that must and will be done.
Pronunciation: jhiss-RAHL-nuh mahl-TOE-vihn
Gender: Female
Age: 26
Turnday: 51.10.25
Weyr: Ista Weyr
Rank: Junior Weyrwoman
Family:
Liralna Southernborn; mother; master weaver; 43; weaver hall (Southern Boll)
J’dar Maltovin of Black Male Asenith; father; wingrider; 58; Ista Weyr formerly of Igen Weyr
Weyrmate: None
Friends:
M’lyn of Blue Crelliseth; wingrider; 30; Ista Weyr
O’tryn of Bronze Kenmarrith; weyrleader; ??; Ista Weyr
Myrona of Gold Jellisaenth; weyrwoman; ??; Ista Weyr
Veladrie of White Male Lullath; Cadidate Master; 36; Ista Weyr
Pets:
Mischief (Missy); female brick firelizard; 8 turns
Missy tends to think that her handler’s weaver projects are toys and more often than not gets herself into trouble. She likes to steal skeins of floss.
Appearance: Possessing vibrant red-gold hair that falls in thick, rolling waves past the backs of her knees, it is perhaps the trait that draws the most attention and is committed to memory. But Jisralna is so much more than her hair. Elegance and grace practically oozes from her pores; it’s in the way she carries her tall, willowy frame. Jisralna’s features are just as refined and delicate as the rest of her with a narrow face with high cheekbones and a straight, sloping nose; her lips are a tad on the thin side but usually rest in a faint smile. Her complexion is pale and scattered quite liberally with freckles; it is a topic of great debate--and secret bets--amongst the male riders of Ista if she is freckled from head to toe as none have seen her undressed.
Typically her wardrobe consists of dresses and gowns, many of them made by her own skilled hands. Preferring shades of brown, blue and green, she will often accent them with bits of embroidery at collar, hem or cuff. Categorically despising riding gear, she has developed her own with a type of split skirt combined with a loose fitting linen pant. Her jackets, while still made of hide, are more tailored to suit her feminine tastes and it is no wonder that she is disputed as the most stylish Goldrider on Pern all while looking more like a Lady Holder than a Dragonrider.
Personality: Quiet and reserved, Jisralna has an air of gentleness about her that tends to put people at ease. She carries herself with a calm, sophisticated grace that was taught to her by her mother at Weaver Hall. Because of this, were it not for the shoulder knots affixed to her gowns, it would be easy to mistake her for the misplaced sister or cousin of Lord Holder. Mild of manner and with a soft voice, it isn’t often that Jisralna speaks; all of this gives the appearance of a gentle and perhaps simple young woman. However, when she does speak it is usually with great aforethought and contemplation and the words are often wise beyond her years. As such, her soft voice can often cut through a room full of squabbling riders and weyrfolk with little effort. She will not raise her voice; ever. Instead she instills her unshakable will into her words so that it can be felt reverberating in each syllable.
Her will is strong; the will to not lose herself or the things she loves to the Weyr; her conservative sensibilities about love and intimacy have remained strong since being Searched from Weaver Hall. Her love of weaving has also been sustained though she understands full well that concerns of the Weyr come before those of her heart. Still, she has yet to reconcile the fact that when Permeliath rises, she will have no love or intimacy, the the bond will be one of her dragon’s choosing and for the good of Ista. Because of this, she has kept herself away from the men of the weyr, believing that it would be too cruel to allow her heart to grow fond of a man only to be forced to betray him. While she has adapted to weyr life in her own way, it isn’t likely that she will ever fully accept the concept of sharing intimacy with more than one man, much less with a man she does not love. She does, however, understand that she does not have a choice.
In the three years she has been at Ista, not once has anyone seen even a glimpse of her temper. They know the soft-spoken, polite and gentle Jisralna. However, should someone manage to rile her--and it would have to be a heinous act indeed--they would find her every bit as formidable as her dragon. A virtual virago, while she still does not raise her voice, her words become cold and edge like the sharpest of blades. Her attacks are verbal and given her endless observation, she can and will strike at any perceived weakness in the person who has wronged her so grievously or thoroughly offended her sensibilities. Again, though, it takes an outrageous act of insensitivity, often directed at those whom she loves or those who are defenseless to incur the wrath of the Junior Weyrwoman, but it is certainly something to be avoided if you want your pride to remain intact.
History: Born of the brief union at a Gather between an apprentice Weaver and a black rider from Igen, the pregnancy derailed the then seventeen year old’s intentions of finishing her training and walking the tables. Naturally, the dragonrider didn’t stick around though he did visit shortly after Jisralna’s birth and consented to giving her his name though he readily admitted that he didn’t have much else to offer. He wasn’t the settling sort and quite frankly, Liarlna wasn’t the sort that would survive well at the Weyr. This left Liralna bitter and slightly jaded about the character of all male dragonriders. A biased which she, unfortunately, had no qualms sharing with her young daughter. When Jisralna was old enough to be kept occupied with simple tasks like using a drop spindle or practicing her stitches, Liralna was allowed to continue her training and why Jisralna was five, her mother walked the tables.
The new Journeywoman was sent to Southern Boll with her daughter on her hip to work for the Hold there, and more specifically as a seamstress to the Lady Holder. By the time she was six, Jisralna was splitting her time with the Lady Holder’s children in their lessons and learning the craft at her mother’s side. It is how she ended up with far better manners than her mother ever had and part of the reason her sensibilities are so conservative; they were lessons intended for the Lord Holder’s daughters. However, her mother taught her a lesson that would stick with her almost indefinitely; never let a dragonrider near your heart, he will not know what to do with it and will simply drop it in the dirt.
That a many other lessons that warned her of the dangers of a dragonrider’s attention were ingrained in her mind at a young age until she found herself glancing warily at any dragon that descended upon Southern Boll. Once, at the age of ten, not long before her mother intended to send her to Weaver Hall--as she showed a great deal of promise as a weaver--J’rad appeared at Southern Boll, on a Search. At first Liralna tried to deny him the chance to visit with the daughter he’d only seen a handful of times since her birth, and only ever from afar or anonymously.
It was useless, however, as she ended up running into him on her own. It was fully his intention to take her back to Igen and teach her of dragons. The Blackrider explained who he was, and in her innocent excitement she unleashed on him her entire life’s story and her plans to become a weaver just like her mother. In the face of such forthcomingness from what he had observed to be a rather somber and quiet child, he backed off. There were others he could Search and he wasn’t so heartless that he’d take Liralna’s child from her. Instead he offered to escort the child to Weaver Hall himself; it took some convincing but Liralna consented so long as she got to go with. So, at the age of ten, Jisralna met her father officially for the first time that she could remember and went off to apprentice at Weaver Hall, arriving in style on the Black Asenith when before they would have just arrived on a runner or in the back of a cart.
While at Weaver Hall, Jisralna proved to be quite the student, dedicated to her studies and quite polite and even-tempered for a child. She proved to be her mother’s child, excelling in the art of designing and making clothing, with an eye for shape and color. It wasn’t until she was in her mid teens that her first “outburst” as it were, surfaced. A younger child who was being picked on happened to run into the room in which she was working to hide. Possessing a fondness of children and a dislike of such behavior, one of the Master Weavers entered the room to the sound of several of the apprentices shuffling out with heads hung low; at least one of them was in tears. Jisralna’s expression was completely serene but the younger child was looking at her with something close to awe.
Her training continued and on her eighteenth birthday her father visited again. He brought her the gift of a firelizard egg and the request that she join him at Ista where he had recently transferred. A weaver would be needed and there was also a clutch due to be laid soon enough. Jisralna asked for time to consider it and J’rad agreed that it would be best to make a decision after she’d thought about it. It was agreed that she would give him his answer the day after she walked the tables and was offered her choice of posts. In the interim, the firelizard egg she’d been given had hatched into a vivacious little female brick who earned herself the name Mischief as she got herself tangled in yarn almost constantly and took to harding Jisralna’s embroidery floss.
When the time came, the day after she’d walked the tables to become a Journeywoman Weaver, her mother did her best to persuade her daughter to take any post but Ista. But in the end, she felt she had at least some obligation to her father, regardless of what her mother said about him and his kind. Besides, the weyr did need a weaver and she did want to see a dragon clutch. After assuring her mother that she would not be lost to a dragon or ruined by a rider, J’rad took her and her weaver supplies to the island Weyr where she settled in. The Master Weaver was glad for the help and was happy to find that she had a bit of experience with tailoring leathers as well as linens.
The first clutch that Jisralna experienced was breathtaking and while she still held fast to her apprehensions about the male riders of the Weyr, she could not, in good faith, extend such apprehensions to their beasts. As such, it wasn’t uncommon for her to be seen in the company of Asenith or any number of other dragons she’d befriended, including the junior queen Jellisaenth whose rider liked a bit of embroidery on her tunics, silently working on this project or that for the Master Harper. It wasn’t until she was 23 that things changed at the weyr. The senior queen passed when her elderly rider died in her sleep and Myrona became Weyrwoman in earnest, though in truth she’d been doing the paperwork for ages. O’tryn’s Kenmarrith was the one to catch her and the man, who Jisralna had hesitantly formed a friendship with as Missy had formed a fondness for his beard (of all things), was made Weyrleader of Ista Weyr.
Shortly after her twenty-fourth birthday, a clutch was laid and with more than just her father prodding her, Jisralna agreed to stand as candidate just once. Once was all it took. When the golden shell broke free of the little glistening beast within, the bond that was made would never be broken. Jisralna watched as the dainty gold shook herself free from clinging fragments of her shell and then turned a discerning gaze on the women gathered around her. One of the others inched closer and Jisralna frowned; they had been specifically told not to crowd her when she hatched but it was not her place to remind the girl.
No, that would be my place. I will have none but you, Jisralna Maltovin and I will...dismantle any of these lesser girls for trying to take me from you.
“They will not take you from me, Permeliath. Come away now, you will feel better once you have eaten.”
The other hopefuls for the golden egg--especially those particularly new to the weyr--had never heard the weaver turned candidate string more than a few words together at a time. There were looks of incredulity and astonishment as well as resentment and dejection. Jisralna was oblivious to them all as she had eyes only for the bright little gold who was still contemplating taking down one of the other candidates who had taken another step towards her. Rather than speak again, Jisralna clasped her hands in front of her and cleared her throat softly. After a moment longer of hesitation, the golden head swung around and her faceted eyes shifted from the swirling torrent of hunger and agitation to the bursts of vibrant colors that signified Impression. Only those standing to either side of Jisralna had even heard the woman speak, anyone in the stands would have been entirely shocked but the seemingly sudden change of focus and Impression.
Conflicting stories about Impression circulated before being drowned out by disbelief and a bit of concern that J’rad’s meek little weaver daughter who avoided the company of any unattached male in the weyr had just Impressed to a Golden Queen. More concerns rose when the hatchling’s mercurial nature was revealed, though what very fewe realized was that Jisralna was perfectly capable of keeping the young gold from doing anything too irrational when she was in a mood. Many of them saw her as a delicate little weaver that didn’t know the first thing about living in the weyr despite the fact that she had in fact resided there for nearly six years. Of course rumors would always be at the ready in regards to a person that kept their own council.
Weyrling training went quite well as Jisralna had the support of not only her father but the Werwoman and Weyrleader as well as a Bluerider she’d befriended who had expressed that he had absolutely no romantic intentions for her and was infact “using Jisralna shamelessly to get pretty things embroidered on his clothing”. Before she knew it, Permeliath was nearly full grown and she had taken up the mantle of junior weyrwoman, assisting Myrona with various duties and her weaver craft becoming more of a hobby. Permeliath has yet to rise in her Maiden Flight and while anxious about the resulting intimacy with a potential stranger, Jisralna has resigned herself to her fate even if she does not like the idea of it.
Adoption?: npc for now
Dragon's Name: Permeliath
Dragon’s Gender: Female
Dragon's Age: 2 Turns (51.13.28)
Dragon's Color: Gold
Dragon’s Size: 43 feet
Dragon's Appearance: Though she is still growing, it is clear that Permeliath will not be a behemoth Gold. No, she will be a perfectly average in length Gold with perfectly proportioned wings and tail. In fact, every feature of the young Gold is exactly what you might call to mind when asked to picture a gold. She has a long and graceful build, seeming elegant and almost delicate without losing that air of awesome power that seems to linger around the Queen like a fog. She holds herself with the regality and poise that one would expect and can even manage to look commanding while taking a nap near the hunting grounds. Her hide, which is the color of gold once it has been melted down and refined, shines just as brightly as any fancy gold bauble made by a jeweler and every bit as flawless as one of Jisralna’s gather gowns. It is expected that she will be quite the sight when she Rises for the first time.
Dragon's Personality: Despite being the prime example of a Gold dragon in size and appearance, Permeliath is a bit...off. Her moods swing wide and often and it is a great wonder how her rider handles the finicky beast much less tolerates her. As a hatchling Permeliath was highly unpredictable and even with age, she has not seemed to mellow in the slightest. There are times when the gold is sweet as any silver, obliging and tender and almost motherly as she fusses over the other dragons around her. But at the drop of a pin and virtually without warning the emotional tides can come crashing in and suddenly every little thing is a slight against her.
That busy brown didn’t answer her croon and it clearly meant that he did not think she was beautiful. That little white shied away and clearly that meant that it thought she was too big! Sometimes even Jisralna is not safe from her irrational fits and is hard pressed to calm Permeliath. Still, just as quickly as her ire explodes it can disappear and you find yourself in the presence of a reserved, contemplative young beauty who is more than content to sit on a sunny rock and observe the activity of the weyr. It is this ever changing state that has people taking bets on just how explosive her first flight will be and whether or not her rider will be able to control her.
Dragon's History: At the young age of two, not much of note has happened to Permeliath. A mauling was narrowly avoided at her hatching, as were several minor incidents during her training. Sooner rather than later, she is due to fly in her Maiden Flight. Despite her rider's obvious discomfort over the situation, it is something that must and will be done.