Post by Omnia Munda on May 17, 2008 14:32:33 GMT -8
Name: J'fel (Janifel)
Gender: Male
Age: 20 (Birthday is in the 10th month)
Rank: Weyrleader
Wing: Blizzard (Weyrleader's Wing)
A wreck of glossed dark locks fly as they like over his smooth brow, a riotous frame for a somewhat round face given age by - and only by - a fringe of thin, almost red beard that does double-duty in creating the false appearance of a strong jaw. Youth's betrayed in supple cheeks and lovely mouth; large blue eyes seem open and inviting always, though the perpetual arch of the dark brows hung above them hints at other possibilities.
He's as comfortable in leathers as in linen, generally layering clothes against Telgar's seasons. He does not shy from presenting himself in the best raiment the Weyr has to offer in these lean times, though for work and play he's often found in more ragged gear, resorting even to the last of his weyrling jackets (which fits him barely, the sleeves too short) for rope drills involving paint.
He moves with animal ease, every muscle expressing the careless grace of youth. Perhaps it's the Weyrleader's knot that usually adorns him or simply the ego of a young man who's found himself suddenly on top of his world, but the fact that he's a fraction shorter than his weyrwoman at just less than 5'7" isn't apparent in his carriage or manner: he acts taller, he acts larger, the big man of Telgar.
J'fel is a conscientious man mostly; in lieu of ethics and experience he boasts a kind heart and great patience. He has a temper, but it's slow to surface. He is neither brilliant nor dim, an everyman's bronzerider, though his youth and his loveliness lend him a seeming of innocence and naiveté he's found tough to shake.
He can be boisterous, loud, and crude when the situation suits; J'fel rarely shies from posing as 'one of the boys.' He has learned quickly to affect finer manners too, however, and looks just as proper leaning in to hear his Weyrwoman's whispered counsel as he does hanging his arms around his wingleaders' shoulders to congratulate them on a game well flown.
Though most people believe him to be entirely without perspective on his rank, his weyrwoman, and his Weyr, it would take a somewhat stupider man than J'fel not to reflect on these things and his future.
Not an exceptional weyrling in any way other than his having impressed Jordeth just four turns ago, J'fel soon learned that he could make more of himself than was his due simply by relying on the natural talents of his exceptional beast. Jordeth proved early on to be able in any task to which he was set, outstripping his clutchmates in size and in grace within weeks. J'fel learned ambition only out of habit: his successes in weyrlinghood came so easily that he found himself able for the first time to hunger for more.
The pair excelled in the wings, too. Agility and speed matched with the raw bronze power for which his build was designed made Jordeth a marvel in threadfighting drills as well as in the games designed to maintain such skills. Too young to be considered for the political pressure of managing a wing, J'fel nevertheless found himself the 'go-to' guy for his wingmates when authority was wanted, but rank's authority was not. He was assigned important sweeps, but mostly those where the local Holders felt little resentment for the Weyr and tithed cooperatively. He was groomed - but not much, and not quickly, for in Interval a wingleader or 'second could maintain his knot for decades, and few envisioned stepping down for this boy who had been such a layabout only a few turns ago.
And then there was Pelegaoth.
No one thought the weyrleader S'lyn was too old for his work, and certainly no one expected his bronze to falter where claiming his queen was concerned. The incumbent pair had the support of the wingleaders and other bronzeriders whose dragons chased Pelegaoth that morning. How it happened that young Jordeth wound through them all to steal the senior queen into his embrace is still a matter of spirited debate. Some claim the golden boy had promised wingleaderships to some of the other younger bronzeriders in return for making an opportunity for Jordeth to slip in under the gold. Some say Jordeth was just too powerful, too quick and strong for the weyrleader's bronze to defend his queen adequately against such youthful hunger. And of course, some say that the weyrwoman Aderes was simply swayed by youthful beauty: for J'fel has that, if nothing else, in spades.
His claim on his knot may have seemed tenuous within days of the flight, but the months since have seen the young Weyrleader mostly at his best. There were few ranking men he couldn't befriend by showing them he'd hear out their opinions rather than barge ahead with his own, and from among those he couldn't win over J'fel quickly carved out an honorable place for his predecessor S'lyn. Deferring chiefly to Aderes in matters of politics and Weyr management, J'fel seems to have dedicated himself adequately to learning his position from his elders and betters; were it not for the trouble with the Caminar squatters, Telgar would likely have seen J'fel as the fresh young leader it never knew it needed. As it was, in the months leading to the hatching of Pelegaoth's clutch, J'fel was increasingly known as the weyrleader without a spine.
Despite the bronzes and queen those eggs provided, the hatching didn't change that. The sevens since haven't hurt the weyrleader as much as those before, however, and as J'fel bonds more and more with the older riders of Blizzard as well as his younger cronies, the weyrleader's position seems if not a given, at least less ridiculous.
Both his willingness to hear out anyone who wants to share their opinion with him and his tendency to make decisions only after hours and sometimes days of deliberation make him increasingly seem like a 'thinker,' and amongst increasing rumors that he's charged a secret group of riders with recovering the territory's kidnapped children, J'fel's reputation for spinelessness is slowly changing into one for subterfuge and sneakery.
It so far remains secret from most of the Weyr that the delays represent conference with his weyrwoman and his decisions often represent her choices - and those who suspect generally have the sense to keep their mouths shut about it.
Dragon's Name: Jordeth
Color: Bronze (212000)
Age: 5 (Hatched in Turn 95, 13th Month)
Physical Description: Broad-shouldered up front but narrow through the belly and the haunches, this rangy-limbed bronze seems to have been built for the races. Power's balanced by aerodynamics everywhere, with the bulk of his muscle sinewy and lean. He's a sunny shade as bronzes go, color close to a queen's but with dark points to tip his tail and snout, joined by a smoky streak down his spine that lends its color to his neckridges, too. Headknobs are small and tightly tucked back, lending his long snout a svelte arrowhead shape; his paws are overlarge and as dark as the spade of his tail, tipped with charcoal talons. Light by contrast are the spars of his wings, brazenly golden in hue; they suspend near-translucent sails that at last offer glimpses of patinaed green.
Personality: Aware of both his physical power and the rank it's earned his rider, Jordeth is no longer anything even remotely resembling humble. His ambitions are still forming, bred from the shock of realization when he found Pelegaoth in his embrace; still, he's known among his former wingmates and clutchsiblings for his dedication and drive, and few doubt that the Weyrleader's bronze, if not the man himself, will defend contentiously his right to Telgar's senior queen.
Blizzard Wing
Form: Heavy
Character and Duties
The Weyrleader's Wing, as it's called almost as often as it's called by name, contains a troubled mix of mostly two different kinds of men: riders too established and respected to be simply transferred into some other wing; and younger men selected from among J'fel's buddies and clutchmates. The latter is not quite yet a majority, though more and more of those established and respected riders have come over to the young weyrleader's side - the kid's charisma and seemingly utter willingness to listen to the wisdom of his elders, along with his obvious favor with the Weyrwoman, has won him friends among the older riders as well as his own mates. Although several doubters remain, it no longer seems that J'fel's wing will defect out from under him.
Outside of drills and the games, the older and younger riders of Blizzard don't mingle much. There's no real loss of love between the two groups, but the men who once flew for S'lyn and those who came into the wing specifically to fly for J'fel share little in common outside their duties.
Games
When it was S'lyn's wing, Blizzard boasted great prowess in formations and in competitive sports, especially races. Those strengths remain, but mostly among the older riders; J'fel's cronies favor most of all the mounted joust, despite its dangers, and often place high in hand-to-hand and other unseated competitions as well.
Telgar Weyr, Sixth Interval
Gender: Male
Age: 20 (Birthday is in the 10th month)
Rank: Weyrleader
Wing: Blizzard (Weyrleader's Wing)
Physical Description
A wreck of glossed dark locks fly as they like over his smooth brow, a riotous frame for a somewhat round face given age by - and only by - a fringe of thin, almost red beard that does double-duty in creating the false appearance of a strong jaw. Youth's betrayed in supple cheeks and lovely mouth; large blue eyes seem open and inviting always, though the perpetual arch of the dark brows hung above them hints at other possibilities.
He's as comfortable in leathers as in linen, generally layering clothes against Telgar's seasons. He does not shy from presenting himself in the best raiment the Weyr has to offer in these lean times, though for work and play he's often found in more ragged gear, resorting even to the last of his weyrling jackets (which fits him barely, the sleeves too short) for rope drills involving paint.
He moves with animal ease, every muscle expressing the careless grace of youth. Perhaps it's the Weyrleader's knot that usually adorns him or simply the ego of a young man who's found himself suddenly on top of his world, but the fact that he's a fraction shorter than his weyrwoman at just less than 5'7" isn't apparent in his carriage or manner: he acts taller, he acts larger, the big man of Telgar.
Personality
J'fel is a conscientious man mostly; in lieu of ethics and experience he boasts a kind heart and great patience. He has a temper, but it's slow to surface. He is neither brilliant nor dim, an everyman's bronzerider, though his youth and his loveliness lend him a seeming of innocence and naiveté he's found tough to shake.
He can be boisterous, loud, and crude when the situation suits; J'fel rarely shies from posing as 'one of the boys.' He has learned quickly to affect finer manners too, however, and looks just as proper leaning in to hear his Weyrwoman's whispered counsel as he does hanging his arms around his wingleaders' shoulders to congratulate them on a game well flown.
Though most people believe him to be entirely without perspective on his rank, his weyrwoman, and his Weyr, it would take a somewhat stupider man than J'fel not to reflect on these things and his future.
Background
Not an exceptional weyrling in any way other than his having impressed Jordeth just four turns ago, J'fel soon learned that he could make more of himself than was his due simply by relying on the natural talents of his exceptional beast. Jordeth proved early on to be able in any task to which he was set, outstripping his clutchmates in size and in grace within weeks. J'fel learned ambition only out of habit: his successes in weyrlinghood came so easily that he found himself able for the first time to hunger for more.
The pair excelled in the wings, too. Agility and speed matched with the raw bronze power for which his build was designed made Jordeth a marvel in threadfighting drills as well as in the games designed to maintain such skills. Too young to be considered for the political pressure of managing a wing, J'fel nevertheless found himself the 'go-to' guy for his wingmates when authority was wanted, but rank's authority was not. He was assigned important sweeps, but mostly those where the local Holders felt little resentment for the Weyr and tithed cooperatively. He was groomed - but not much, and not quickly, for in Interval a wingleader or 'second could maintain his knot for decades, and few envisioned stepping down for this boy who had been such a layabout only a few turns ago.
And then there was Pelegaoth.
No one thought the weyrleader S'lyn was too old for his work, and certainly no one expected his bronze to falter where claiming his queen was concerned. The incumbent pair had the support of the wingleaders and other bronzeriders whose dragons chased Pelegaoth that morning. How it happened that young Jordeth wound through them all to steal the senior queen into his embrace is still a matter of spirited debate. Some claim the golden boy had promised wingleaderships to some of the other younger bronzeriders in return for making an opportunity for Jordeth to slip in under the gold. Some say Jordeth was just too powerful, too quick and strong for the weyrleader's bronze to defend his queen adequately against such youthful hunger. And of course, some say that the weyrwoman Aderes was simply swayed by youthful beauty: for J'fel has that, if nothing else, in spades.
His claim on his knot may have seemed tenuous within days of the flight, but the months since have seen the young Weyrleader mostly at his best. There were few ranking men he couldn't befriend by showing them he'd hear out their opinions rather than barge ahead with his own, and from among those he couldn't win over J'fel quickly carved out an honorable place for his predecessor S'lyn. Deferring chiefly to Aderes in matters of politics and Weyr management, J'fel seems to have dedicated himself adequately to learning his position from his elders and betters; were it not for the trouble with the Caminar squatters, Telgar would likely have seen J'fel as the fresh young leader it never knew it needed. As it was, in the months leading to the hatching of Pelegaoth's clutch, J'fel was increasingly known as the weyrleader without a spine.
Despite the bronzes and queen those eggs provided, the hatching didn't change that. The sevens since haven't hurt the weyrleader as much as those before, however, and as J'fel bonds more and more with the older riders of Blizzard as well as his younger cronies, the weyrleader's position seems if not a given, at least less ridiculous.
Both his willingness to hear out anyone who wants to share their opinion with him and his tendency to make decisions only after hours and sometimes days of deliberation make him increasingly seem like a 'thinker,' and amongst increasing rumors that he's charged a secret group of riders with recovering the territory's kidnapped children, J'fel's reputation for spinelessness is slowly changing into one for subterfuge and sneakery.
It so far remains secret from most of the Weyr that the delays represent conference with his weyrwoman and his decisions often represent her choices - and those who suspect generally have the sense to keep their mouths shut about it.
Dragon
Dragon's Name: Jordeth
Color: Bronze (212000)
Age: 5 (Hatched in Turn 95, 13th Month)
Physical Description: Broad-shouldered up front but narrow through the belly and the haunches, this rangy-limbed bronze seems to have been built for the races. Power's balanced by aerodynamics everywhere, with the bulk of his muscle sinewy and lean. He's a sunny shade as bronzes go, color close to a queen's but with dark points to tip his tail and snout, joined by a smoky streak down his spine that lends its color to his neckridges, too. Headknobs are small and tightly tucked back, lending his long snout a svelte arrowhead shape; his paws are overlarge and as dark as the spade of his tail, tipped with charcoal talons. Light by contrast are the spars of his wings, brazenly golden in hue; they suspend near-translucent sails that at last offer glimpses of patinaed green.
Personality: Aware of both his physical power and the rank it's earned his rider, Jordeth is no longer anything even remotely resembling humble. His ambitions are still forming, bred from the shock of realization when he found Pelegaoth in his embrace; still, he's known among his former wingmates and clutchsiblings for his dedication and drive, and few doubt that the Weyrleader's bronze, if not the man himself, will defend contentiously his right to Telgar's senior queen.
Blizzard Wing
Form: Heavy
Character and Duties
The Weyrleader's Wing, as it's called almost as often as it's called by name, contains a troubled mix of mostly two different kinds of men: riders too established and respected to be simply transferred into some other wing; and younger men selected from among J'fel's buddies and clutchmates. The latter is not quite yet a majority, though more and more of those established and respected riders have come over to the young weyrleader's side - the kid's charisma and seemingly utter willingness to listen to the wisdom of his elders, along with his obvious favor with the Weyrwoman, has won him friends among the older riders as well as his own mates. Although several doubters remain, it no longer seems that J'fel's wing will defect out from under him.
Outside of drills and the games, the older and younger riders of Blizzard don't mingle much. There's no real loss of love between the two groups, but the men who once flew for S'lyn and those who came into the wing specifically to fly for J'fel share little in common outside their duties.
Games
When it was S'lyn's wing, Blizzard boasted great prowess in formations and in competitive sports, especially races. Those strengths remain, but mostly among the older riders; J'fel's cronies favor most of all the mounted joust, despite its dangers, and often place high in hand-to-hand and other unseated competitions as well.
Telgar Weyr, Sixth Interval
