Name: N'sarl (Nevisarl)
Age: 57
Nameday: 3520.11.02
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: ???
Weyr: Western Weyr
Rider Rank: Wingrider
Previous Rank/Craft: Drudge
Physical Description: N'sarl stands about 5'10, with thick black hair, dark skin, and an unpleasant expression. He could be handsome if he smiled, but more often than not, his expression is dour and quite severe. His most attractive feature is his dark purple Bitran eyes. Regarding his appearance, more often than not, the bronze rider doesn't think twice about it. He isn't insecure, and doesn't give a shard about what others think of him. He has a handful of scars, a nose that's been broken more than once, a few missing teeth, and he's usually in need of a shave with a near constant five-o-clock shadow. He's of average weight but strong--Turns of dragonriding and throwing firestone have allowed that much.

Personality: N'sarl is a man who tries to keep the world at bay. He isn't the type to let many in, and would much prefer to be left alone. He isn't the type to traditionally meddle in others affairs, and would greatly prefer if everyone gave him the same kindness. He's a private man, and will not hesitate to keep his business his own.

N'sarl known to look through the world suspiciously. He doesn't often trust others motives or intentions, and has a rather bleak worldview. No one would ever consider N'sarl to be a ray-of-sunshine, and he doesn't want to be. He would much rather be prepared for the worst to happen, than be caught off guard after being blinded by hope. Set in his ways, N'sarl doesn't roll over for anyone, and staunchly digs his heels in as soon as he feels pushed around. He will do things on his own time, or when HE decides to do something, and the world will be damned if they think they're going to break him with threat of punishment, or waving some ranking shoulderknot around. If anything, it just makes him turn even more into a stubborn fool.

To say he's aloof and suspicious is a bit of an understatement. He is a known loner, even after all his Turns in the Weyr, and tends to keep others out. He is capable of making friends, but they tend to be few and far between--and often just as aloof as he. Honestly, he's not the sort to suffer fools, and doesn't hesitate to push himself away if he feels his privacy is encroached upon. He's too old to change his ways, and while there are soft spots -- he can be gentle around littles, and patient with drudges, aunties and uncles, and the less-fortunate of the world-- for the most part N'sarl lives a quiet, singular life.

While he might have many a negative trait, those who know him well, or at least are perceptive, can find his good traits. He is a thoughtful man when he wants to be--he will remember namedays, favorite things, and will consider a partners needs as best he's able. He's also forthright--he is honest and won't lie or sugar-coat. While this can come off as rather blunt, his thoughtfulness and usual quiet and aloof nature can usually keep him from completely terrorizing those who might not take it well.

Lastly, he is known to be hard-working. He throws his everything in caring not just for Uskatath, but also in any duties, chores, or needs of the Weyr. Whatever work needs doing, N'sarl isn't one to shirk duties--and has harsh words for those who try to cut corners or slack. He will pull his weight, and then some, and won't hesitate to jump in to help a common goal. He can be a team player when there's work to be done--and while he might not be the loudest or most outspoken, he is and will always be there to help.

Positive Trait List Thoughtful, Hard-Working, Forthright
Negative Trait List Aloof, Suspicious, Stubborn
History: Nevisarl was born and raised the lowest of the low in Nabol's main Hold. His mother was a drudge, his father a man of rank and fortune who refused to acknowledge him, thus ensuring his fate as a nobody. Though his mother cared for him as best she was able, Nabol Hold was an unforgiving place--and he became just another future pair of hands meant for hard work. At age six, his mother disappeared, leaving him well and truly to be cared for by the workers and drudges of the Hold.

Unlike other children, he did not get trained by Harpers. While he knew a few basic Teaching Songs, he mostly was passed along to assist with work. He was not like the other children, and Nabol Hold saw him as nothing more than a future worker. He had no rank, had no family, and as he was born a drudge, so he would always remain. Anytime he broke a rule, or otherwise tried to fight the system, found him punished, and threatened to be thrown into the mines.

While he was not a child of the mines, his life at the main Hold was hardly comfortable or glamorous. He was the lowest of the low, and toiled for nothing. As he grew, the work load also increased. He had no voice, and any complaints, tears, or fears fell on deaf ears. He had better be grateful, he'd be told, time and time again--for who could want a shameful boy like him?

Affection and kindness was few and far between. There were a few drudges who tried their best to care and protect him, and the other young drudges within the Hold--but it didn't replace the stability others of higher rank and more comfortable positions received. Life was hard, the abuses were many, and Nevisarl's only choice was to harden himself to the pain.

At Turn 24, a miracle: he had been in the Dining Hall after hours, scrubbing the stone floors, when he bumped into a disheveled looking dragonman. The dragon rider had been on his way back to his dragon to return to the Weyr when his blue had directed him to the Dining Hall on an urgent mission. Lo and behold, the dragon was quite interested in meeting Nevisarl face-to-face.

Certain that this was some sort of trick, Nevisarl was hesitant to follow--but he feared the repercussions if he didn't. Dragonmen were powerful, after all, and he feared what might come if he refused. So it was, he followed--and what happened next changed his life.

There was indeed a blue dragon waiting in the courtyard, and he immediately made a show of leaning down to nose at Nevisarl. Lo and behold, he was quickly told, the blue dragon thought he might make a good Candidate for High Reaches Weyr. If he wished, he could bring him to the Weyr to stand for their next Hatching.

To leave the Hold was something he'd never thought possible. It sounded too good to be true, and Nevisarl was certain it was just some trick. He would agree, then he would be tattled one, and beaten to an inch of his life. But a voice, so warm, so kind, told him it was no trick. It was then, he realized, the voice was that of the dragon standing before him.

Could a dragon lie? Certainly not.

With great reservation, Nevisarl reluctantly agreed. He was promised that he could go anywhere on Pern should he fail, or find Candidacy unappealing once he arrived. So it was, in the dead of night, the man took his first flight a dragonback and was brought to High Reaches Weyr.

Candidacy was such a change that Nevisarl hardly knew what to do with himself. He had only just begun to settle in with the others when the Hatching began--and near the end, one of the last eggs to hatch was a large, red-eyed bronze. The dragon was red eyed, tough, and irritated by all the eager boys desperate to catch his eye.

With ire and rage, the dragon bowled through the Candidates, leaving more than a few injured. But it was only when he neared Nevisarl that the bronze lunged--not to attack, as Nevisarl had assumed, but to twine about him, and wrap him in his wings.

You are so much more than you realize. Let your Uskatath show you, and know that any who hurt you, or dare try tear you down, will answer to me! All the Turns of anger, pain, lonliness, and fear that he had pushed away bubbled up--and was soothed by the constant love, affection, and care from one large bronze.

Though Uskatath was a balm on N'sarl's heart, his weyrlinghood was still wrought with pain. He was awkward, unsure of his place, and trust wasn't easy for him to learn. For all that Uskatath was a protective and fierce bronze, he was hardly more sociable--and was just as irritable as His. They did not make many friends, and struggled to connect with their peers. Thankfully, N'sarl didn't mind--who else did he need but Uskatath?

The Turns passed, and N'sarl followed High Reaches traditions. He was never completely comfortable with his regaled position, and his defensive nature didn't help him win many friends. He had a series of lovers, though few managed to last long Term.

When Thread returned, N'sarl was asked to assist some of the local Weyrs in Threadfighting techniques. He was stationed at Western Weyr, much to Uskatath's disgruntlement, and only planned to remain as long as was necessary. What N'sarl didn't plan on was meeting him--a rider who struck him like a bolt from the blue.

His interest and intrigue turned into a quiet sort of love--which irritated Uskatath to no end. This was unlike His but no amount of arguing seemed to distract his rider. Thankfully, to Uskatath's relief, His had no intention of letting the other know his feelings--and surely, soon enough they would return to the Weyr.

Unfortunately, N'sarl had other ideas. When asked whether or not he wished to return to High Reaches, instead, the bronze rider requested a transfer so he might remain. Uskatath had never felt so betrayed by His, and fight between rider and dragon was tumultuous to their bond--but inevitably, the bronze dragon had no choice but remain.

While the pair have (mostly) resolved their issues, there is no denying Uskatath's displeasure at his new home. He has little love for Western, and while there are some dragons he might find tolerable, he tends to keep to himself. The entirety of the Weyr is backwards--and if he must, he plans on showing them the way a Weyr should work. N'sarl has little pleasure in how Western Weyr is run--which he makes no bones about--but his hearts have been stolen most unknowingly....

And while the affection is more or less unrequitted (or at least unknown), he has no intention to leave. As far as N'sarl is concerned, it's probably better this way--for who is he but an angry, defensive, broken man?

Other: He has two flits, Snapper and Snaggletooth.

DRAGON
Name: Uskatath
Age: 31
Color: Bronze
Size: 92'
Physical Description: Uskatath is a large bronze, who is muscular, strong, and built like a brick. He is not a swift bronze--but he has stamina for days, as any respectable bronze well should! He is large, scarred up from various battles with fellow dragons and Thread, and is quite long in fang. His legs are, perhaps, a bit stockier than some, but his prowess is unmistakable. He has long headknobs, and his wings taper a bit more than others of his size; while this means he can eat up more energy having to flap more frequently while in the air, he also has a bit more agility on wing given his size.
Personality: Uskatath is a bronze who isn't here to play around. He was hatched to find His, fight Thread, and hopefully sire as many clutches as he can manage. While he is ready to defend the common man from the Great Enemy, he isn't a particularly soft dragon. To most of his kin he is aloof, irritable, and not particularly friendly. While he can be softer around hatchlings, littles, or the injured and ancient--he won't hesitate to be bluntly honest to an uncomfortable degree.

He isn't a bronze who is here to flatter others if he feels no sense of attachment to them. He isn't here to play games, or be anything other than what he is. He's a grumpy, growly, bitter bronze who tends to prefer his own company, or that of his riders, to anyone else. This isn't to say Uskatath is without passion or feeling -- he can be gentler, warmer, or patient to those that somehow manage to worm their way into his hearts.

Uskatath is traditionalist, and doesn't care that he's at Western. As a bronze he does feel rather entitled to his opinions, and chafes against how Western is being run. He is vocal about his disgust and disgruntlement, but it isn't entirely just for want of power; he truly feels as if the leadership is letting down the Weyr by not pitting dragons to their natural strengths, and that, in turn, causes injuries and stress on both rider and dragon alike.

He is unhappy at Western Weyr at present, but perhaps time, or someone special indeed, might change his sharpened hearts.

Dragon Art or Proof of Obtainment: Uskatath