Age: 40
Nameday:
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: 3536.12.02
Weyr: High Reaches Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Miner (sort of and unofficially apprenticed)
Physical Description: G'vos stands about 6'1, with broad shoulders, a broad waist, and pale skin. He's a Crom native, who cuts an imposing figure, for all that he's not nearly as tall as some men at the Weyr. He's muscular, with medium-length jet black hair, dark brown eyes, and square jaw. He's the sort of man who is no-nonsense, and it shows. He's very practical and that's included in his style of dress, and his choice of colors (or lack thereof).
Personality: G'vos was the sort of man born with an old soul (if Pern had the concept of such things). He walks around with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and isn't the type to ask for assistance or aid from anyone. On the one hand, he tends to be slow to trust. Life hasn't been kind, and he is the sort to believe every man has his or her angle. Even with Hizulath in his life, he still tends to keep himself a bit more distanced than those often found in the Weyr. He's an aloof man, who keeps his feelings close to the vest, and during events of great merry-making and well-wishing, G'vos tends to be quietly off to the side. He much prefers to watch and listen than be front-and-center, and appears to desire to keep to himself. To make him even more unapproachable is his overly-serious attitude. He takes things very gravely, and isn't known to suffer a fool. Getting him to lighten-up is a daunting task, though there are rumors it's happened a few times during his time at the Weyr. He's a private man, a lone canine, and seems to keep mostly to his own council.
While he might not be the most approachable of men, G'vos isn't a bad man. For those who can worm their way past his mistrust and distant nature, they will find a loyal man, and most importantly, a good man. To those who earn his approval, he will give his all, and fight staunchly to defend and protect. He takes his duties as a rider ever-so-seriously, and while he is traditional, he's not the sort to take advantage of his position or rank. There is no danger too great for him, no line drawn that he will not cross, and he is most passionate about dragonriding. Impressing Hizulath gave him opportunities he lacked, and with Thread's return, he's more than ready to risk his life and limb against the ancient enemy. He's the sort of man who won't back down when the going gets tough; while there is leadership potential in him, his lack of approach-ability is what keeps him from advancing his career. Not that G'vos minds. No matter the knots he wears, he can still do good work, and help keep Pern thriving.
His friends find him reliable, and past-lovers have said there is a quiet passion and warmth that he shows to very few. His dragon knows of these passions and those who watch how he treats Hizulath, or the littles of the Weyr, might indeed find a man who can be tender. Gruff though he might be, he is the man who will weather the storm so others don't have to feel the rain.
Positive Trait List Loyal, Protective, Brave
Negative Trait List Reserved, Overly-Serious, Mistrusting
History: Geralvos was born and raised in Crom Hold proper, the son of a drudge woman named Gella. The man suspected to be his father was the son of the cousin of the Hold's steward, or so the rumor was had; a man who was of no importance to anyone but Gella herself. Unfortunately, he was a man without honor, parental instinct, morality, or kindness. He wooed the drudge in secret solely to get what he wanted, and when she became with child, abandoned her completely. Gella was not a dumb woman, though she lacked much skill or ability. As Geralvos grew, Gella began trying to get the man to see his child... and finally, at Turn seven, he consented. He was told he would spend the summer with him as he practiced his trade in the jewelcraft-- it was never too early to start teaching a Crom boy the basics of Minecraft. So, Gella agreed...
Geralvos met his father, at the age of seven. He remembered spending a few sevendays on the road; he remembers his father being a grave man. They traveled a few sevendays, meeting a few other miners and travelers, until they had a small caravan formed. There were children his own age, some younger, some older, and they all were to learn the trade too. The caravan ended on the outskirts of Bitra. Geralvos' father told the boy he had to stay to do work, but a good friend would return him to his mother back in Crom, along with two other foundlings. They had to make a stop at Nabol, but then would go straight up to Crom.
He remembers being told to be a good boy.... and that was the last he saw of his father, and his mother.
The boys all made it to Nabol none-the-wiser... And it was to the mines that they were immediately sent to work. So, Geralvos worked, childhood lost, as he did as he was bade on the promise of luxury, of freedom, of.. just a better meal. He was stocky enough to be of use compared to others his age. Unfortunately, it was a dog-eat-dog world, and Geralvos was desperate to find a way out. He witnessed friends crushed beneath rubble; watched as accidents lessened their numbers still; and others were taken to Faranth knew where.
His childhood was not pleasant... but he was one of the lucky ones. As he grew, he was transferred to another mine, and this time, caught the eye of a local overseer. This mine was, more or less, more regulated. The boys were treated decently enough, provided they did their work, and abided by a set of rules. They were transformed from feral and traumatized children to somewhat tamer youths. Life was hard... but they were stronger than the pain and abuses they had suffered, or so they were taught. Nabol wasn't perfect, but neither was anywhere else.
Perhaps there was a healthy dose of pro-Nabolese propoganda within their lessons, but what did it matter? No one had come for them. No one had noticed their absence. Nobody had cared. The best way to save themselves was to run their own mines--to become the Overseers themselves. This was why they were here--to train to be someone.
For the next five Turns, that was where Geralvos seemed to be headed. He learned how to run a mine, or at least how to assist. Once he was dubbed trusted enough to handle things (he had learned quick to spout his praise of whoever he had to kiss-up to to keep his head), he was sent to another mine, not to do as much physical labor, but to help the Overseer keep the boys in line. Geralvos hated seeing the treatment, but he also feared for his own status if he rebelled to hard. He knew what would happen if he let anyone know his true feelings; if he let them know he cared.
Having just been promoted to assistant to the assistant of the assistant Overseer, at turn 20, Geralvos found a blue dragon landing near the mine one afternoon. The man was on Search, and had been bade to stop to look at the boys, as was the Weyr's right. Though the Overseer wasn't pleased, the rider was given permission to roam. Sure enough, three miners were taken... and Geralvos himself.
Searched?
By High Reaches?
He knew he should have turned him down. He knew he should have spout his love for his position at Nabol, and he almost did. Hadn't he heard horror stories of the Weyr? Hadn't he been threatened with a far worse fate if he went with dragonmen? But something in him finally snapped. He couldn't stand who he was, where he had grown up, and where he was headed. Would the riders of a Weyr be worse? No, much to the displeasure of those around him, he accepted the Search. If he failed, he would likely be killed, he was sure, for abandoning his post. But... He would at least be given a few Turns to be somewhere else. He would go... he would stand...
And he Impressed. His first Hatching. He had hardly settled into the Barracks when the Hatching had begun, and had hardly understood what was expected, or what to do, when Hizulath fell across his feet. You've lived a life of pain through no fault of your own. Let me in your heart, and I promise you won't ever walk it alone again.
To say Hizulath changed G'vos was an understatement. He had never experienced such love, such forgiveness, such acceptance as he did in this little dragon. He had hardly knew what was expected of him as a man of the Weyr, or what finding a dragon would mean, when Hizulath tapped him as his His. Hizulath helped draw G'vos out of his shell, and made him a better man.
G'vos never returned to Nabol, having a new-found loyalty to High Reaches Weyr. Though he still can be slow to trust, over the Turns he has a small circle of weyrfolk he has opened up to and befriended; and a small handful of those he cared about who have since passed--either through sickness or from Thread. He puts his all into fighting Thread, and while he has no interest in becoming a Wingleader or Wingsecond, he is content to be doing something good in his life.
Other: He likely has a child or two fathered during flights or with a past lover. While he tries to be there--sometimes he feels as if they are better off without him. Hizulath does require much of his time and attention... but he tries.
DRAGON
Name: Hizulath
Age: 20
Color: Brown
Size: 40'
Physical Description: Hizulath is large for his color, and is built as a brown should be. He is decently muscled and though more agile than his fellow bronzes, he is too heavy to keep up well with more agile blues and greens. Thankfully, Hizulath doesn't mind. All the better to admire them, of course. He is a more grizzled beast, having sustained a series of grave injuries during the past four Turns of Threadfall.
His wings are more broad than they are long, giving him better stamina and an ability to hover. Unfortunately, he will never very easily be able to cut quick corners, or make sharp changes. He was built to take a hit--not to get out of the way.
There is a leanness to Hizulath. He is large, but it is made up mostly of muscle, and not much by way of fat.
Personality: Hizulath is not at all as serious as his rider, though he very much looks the part. While he can very well be serious when the time dictates as much, and is duty-bound to the core, he is a dragon of quiet passion. His hearts are far more loving, far more tender, than he might first let on. G'vos knows such things, and has, in turn, had to learn to be more emotional and more outwardly loving. Hizulath might look like a quiet and reserved beast, but those who know him best know he can be tender, romantic, and terribly possessive.
He isn't the sort of dragon who tends to keep things close to the vest until he decides it's time to let his hearts be known. He is the sort of brown who moves to the beat of his own drum, and will not be pushed into anything he doesn't wish to do... unless, perhaps, G'vos is the one doing the encouraging. He's the sort who knows when to bide his time, and when it's time to finally go in for the kill... or at least make a move. Ever watchful, Hizulath is the sort who lies in wait for opportunity.
Hizulath might keep himself quiet, but to those who know him best, they will find him charming company. He has a dry sense of humor, and can be playful and mischievous when in the right company. Reliable, he isn't the sort to shirk his duty, and is protective of those that he does deem his--he will not hesitate to involve himself if he feels they are in need of him intervening.
Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment:
