Post by Katlyn on Nov 29, 2010 9:54:05 GMT -5
Name: Tria (Alastriona)
Pronunciation: Al-uh-stree-ohn-ah
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Hetero
Rank: Jr. Journeywoman/WherHandler
Birthplace: Ista Hold (Birthdate. 1146.05.13)
Family:
Mother: Strionala (49, Ista Hold) Glass-smith Journeywoman
Father: Alnastor (53, Ista Hold) Beastcraft Journeyman
Siblings:
Strinaa (f, 9T, Ista Hold), Nastoran (m, 9T, Ista Hold) – no extra information
Trianol (m, 13T, Ista Hold) – Beastcraft Apprentice
Alstrion (m, 22T, Fort Hold) – Harper Journeyman
Tionola (f, 29T, Tillek Hold) – Bakingcraft Journeywoman (Spouse Milanor, 31T, Fishing Craft Journeyman; child Tianor (f) 3T)
Other: Il'ran (great-great-how-ever-many grandson, unknown though)
Personality: Once a hyper-active, ambitious young girl, she is now rather quiet and reserved. All’s it take is a single incident to change a person, and she’s had that in her life. Now she tends to stick to herself, wary of those around her. She refuses to back down from her support of the riders though, verbalizing it every chance that she gets. Despite the fact that she tends to be quite and stick to herself now though, she still has that ambitious, hyper-active nature about her. It’s just a matter of finding it again.
Physical description: Tria stands at about 5 and a half feet tall, though despite that height, she still seems rather small. Dark brown hair is kept partially tied back out of her face, however falls down to the middle of her back, leaving only a few strands loose to act as bangs, and to hide the scars that trail down from her chin and beneath her clothes. Those scars start as a blob like one just beneath her chin bone on the right side of her neck, and run down her shoulder, on the back stopping just short of where the shoulder blade ends, and on the front running down to her elbow, looking line vines that wrap about her arm. The same scaring is somewhat present about her wrist and hand. But she keeps these hidden, as much as she can, beneath clothes. And for the ones up by her chin, she tends to keep those out of sight by keeping faced turned down, or away, from people around her. Thus her dark brown eyes tend to also be turned away. Skin has a nice golden tan. Before the accident that left her scared both physically and mentally, she considered herself to actually be pretty, and she still is, she just doesn’t see it anymore.
History: As well as things could be considered normal, so was the start of Tria’s life. She was born at Ista Hold, with two older siblings already bouncing about. And by the time she was five, she was joined by another brother, and then by nine, twin siblings. They were the last children her mother would have, but with six children already, they were certainly a booming family to begin with. In fact, they were rather normal, even despite all the children. Her father helped to tend to the holds beasts and herds, and her mother...Well, her mother was the one who performed the magic in Tria’s eyes. It was shortly after her 10th birthingday that she happened to follow her mother to the Hall, and actually see the process that went into the beautiful creations her mother sometimes brought home, but primarily sold to support the family. It was that day that she decided she wanted to be a glass-smith, just like her mom, but she had to wait. That’s what she was told at least. One good thing did come out of that day’s adventures however. Sulking at being told she couldn’t start to learn the wonderful magic her mother weaved yet, she wandered down the beaches, only to find a flit clutch that, in that moment, happened to be hatching. Already many of the little hatchlings had escaped her grasp, but one, with a slightly torn wing, remained, creeling pitifully. She had few meatrolls as a snack on her, and gave them to the pitiful creature, only to find herself Impressed to it. Well, it she discovered when she came home with it was a bronze flit. Her father helped her to take care of him and eventually she had a little friend that stayed with her, even as she went back to hold’s version of the crèche, waiting a whole extra turn before she finally returned to her mother’s hall and begged to start learning.
Well, start she did. All the things she had to learn at first overwhelmed the ambitious young girl. What different sands and minerals to use for different qualities and colors, what heat for the flame, what tools to make what special details....It was alot. But even despite her initial setbacks, such as not learning things entirely correctly, she pushed on. Failure after mishap later, she finally learned everything there was...academically speaking that was. By then, she was almost 14 Turns old. And armed with all the academic knowledge she could possibly possess about glass-smithing, she turned to the skill part, actually starting to blow the glass. Well, she helped the more senior people first, and slowly progressed up to the point where she herself began to blow the glass. Just simple things at first. But skill won out over academics, and soon she was surprising those around her with what she produced. Fine glass creations, beautiful colored beads. But she had an inspiration.
Things with the Weyr had finally seemed to calm down, and the Hold being at least somewhat proper about its tithe, had sent it in for the upcoming Hatching and gathers, that sort of thing. Well, for whatever reason existed, she’d managed to go along and be present to see Pern’s youngest gold Impress. The eggs were her inspiration though, in their colored forms, all beautiful. In her mind, she thought, “What dragonrider would pay to have a glass form of their dragon’s egg?” Surely they would. If only the world around them was willing to believe in that same dream.
Less than a turn later, Ista Island was torn apart by earthquake and volcano. The weyr was destroyed, but not even the Hold was unscathed. They were, however, rebuildable. And rebuild they did, hold hall and port. By that time, her two eldest siblings had left the island, one to Tillek, one to Fort. Her immediately younger brother would start to help with the twins, though he was more curious in helping their father with the animals. Even though they’d been shaken and, in a sense, shattered, the family continued on. Tria would, eventually, continue on once everything had been rebuilt. And at 17, she walked the tables.
But, as was to be, there was still trouble afoot. Now, a journeywoman, she had more control over what she did. Finally, her glass eggs came to life, one for each dragon who had Hatched nearly three turns before. But she knew the danger that existed in such creations. Already the holders, even on Ista Island, were turning against the remaining riders. There was no need for the dragons, they spewed. Thread would never return. Tria refused to believe such nonsense though, and it was that refusal that endangered her.
As she was finishing the eggs, one of the masters who was very much anti-Weyr discovered that amongst them was a dragon supporter. He’d found the already finished eggs hidden away, and recognizing them, went to the workshop only to find her still working. Her bronze flit, seeing the man approaching, screeched a warning, for the master had no good will towards her. The warning startled her though, and between getting a sharp knock to the head, and the glass splattering over her, and leaving burns from her chin and down her arm, the next few days were rather painful. Of course, she recovered. After all, she only had a few burns and a rather nasty headache. What she didn’t recover from, however, was the disciplinary action that followed, or the injury to her beloved flit.
She was, after all, just a journeywoman, who’s word was against the master. And the master claimed she had deliberately endangered not only his life, but her own. Even her mother, in that moment, believed the master over her own daughter. Nevermind that the little bronze’s wing had been broken in said endangerment, something anyone there ought to have known Tria would never allow. But no one bothered to think through the details. Even at Ista, which had been protected so deligently in the past by the riders they now turned against, the anti-rider sentiment was strong. So strong, that the idea of one of their own making eggs and showing support to the dragons prickled at them. Less than a sevenday after the accident, she was stripped of all rank and privilege in the Hall and sent home packing.
She stayed there a few months longer, her father staying by her side, but her mother refusing to. Eventually, she packed what few things she had, including the few glass eggs which had survived the Halls destruction, and left. Her travels took her to the mainland, and from there to Igen Hold. She had a destination in mind, she just needed to discover it. Word had it though, that the dragons had taken up refuge at Igen Weyr.
Just a month before the final straw that would send the riders leaving the mainland, she finally got the Weyr, seeking refuge herself. Surely the weyr wouldn’t turn away a supporter. Afterall, didn’t they need as many as they could get.
Once they arrived at Izuko, she fell into line being in charge of a group of candidates. Tria stayed out of the way and silent, for the most part. After Authanth was killed, she thought about dropping out of the candidate program, but she stayed to the hatching. It was then that Sani pulled her aside for a wher-egg and she bonded to her brown wher, Trisk.
***
Pet information
Name: Eolodru
Pronunciation: Ee-low-dru
Age: 8
Type: Flit
Colour: Bronze
Personality: Relatively chipper, all things considered. He’s very sweet and loyal to those who are friendly towards His. Even more so, he is very loyal to His, whose side he never leaves, constantly watching for anyone who might wish her harm. There never seems to be any indication of any sadness from him, despite his situation, all the same.
Physical description: Poor thing as obviously seen some bruising and abuse. A rusty bronze colored, one wing has a light vein-ing effect on the membrane from where the egg shards had torn it when he hatched. That same wing is obviously broken, the bones bent awkwardly. It hadn’t been able to be set correctly and healed, and now he is unable to fly.
***
Wher Info: Trisk
brown: dark honey egg/Snow Cat: Bonded to Tria
Personality: friendly, protective, understanding, and a bit adventurous, he knows nothing of stranger danger and so has no problem meeting new acquaintances.
Physique: a bright khaki in color with nearly perfect circular patches throughout his hide of a slightly darker shade and hard to make out to the untrained eye, long like his dam, but leanly muscled.
***
Crafter information
Craft name: Glass-smith
Rank in craft: Jr. Journeywoman (stripped, see history)
Turns in craft: 7
Where studied: Ista Hold
Pronunciation: Al-uh-stree-ohn-ah
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Hetero
Rank: Jr. Journeywoman/WherHandler
Birthplace: Ista Hold (Birthdate. 1146.05.13)
Family:
Mother: Strionala (49, Ista Hold) Glass-smith Journeywoman
Father: Alnastor (53, Ista Hold) Beastcraft Journeyman
Siblings:
Strinaa (f, 9T, Ista Hold), Nastoran (m, 9T, Ista Hold) – no extra information
Trianol (m, 13T, Ista Hold) – Beastcraft Apprentice
Alstrion (m, 22T, Fort Hold) – Harper Journeyman
Tionola (f, 29T, Tillek Hold) – Bakingcraft Journeywoman (Spouse Milanor, 31T, Fishing Craft Journeyman; child Tianor (f) 3T)
Other: Il'ran (great-great-how-ever-many grandson, unknown though)
Personality: Once a hyper-active, ambitious young girl, she is now rather quiet and reserved. All’s it take is a single incident to change a person, and she’s had that in her life. Now she tends to stick to herself, wary of those around her. She refuses to back down from her support of the riders though, verbalizing it every chance that she gets. Despite the fact that she tends to be quite and stick to herself now though, she still has that ambitious, hyper-active nature about her. It’s just a matter of finding it again.
Physical description: Tria stands at about 5 and a half feet tall, though despite that height, she still seems rather small. Dark brown hair is kept partially tied back out of her face, however falls down to the middle of her back, leaving only a few strands loose to act as bangs, and to hide the scars that trail down from her chin and beneath her clothes. Those scars start as a blob like one just beneath her chin bone on the right side of her neck, and run down her shoulder, on the back stopping just short of where the shoulder blade ends, and on the front running down to her elbow, looking line vines that wrap about her arm. The same scaring is somewhat present about her wrist and hand. But she keeps these hidden, as much as she can, beneath clothes. And for the ones up by her chin, she tends to keep those out of sight by keeping faced turned down, or away, from people around her. Thus her dark brown eyes tend to also be turned away. Skin has a nice golden tan. Before the accident that left her scared both physically and mentally, she considered herself to actually be pretty, and she still is, she just doesn’t see it anymore.
History: As well as things could be considered normal, so was the start of Tria’s life. She was born at Ista Hold, with two older siblings already bouncing about. And by the time she was five, she was joined by another brother, and then by nine, twin siblings. They were the last children her mother would have, but with six children already, they were certainly a booming family to begin with. In fact, they were rather normal, even despite all the children. Her father helped to tend to the holds beasts and herds, and her mother...Well, her mother was the one who performed the magic in Tria’s eyes. It was shortly after her 10th birthingday that she happened to follow her mother to the Hall, and actually see the process that went into the beautiful creations her mother sometimes brought home, but primarily sold to support the family. It was that day that she decided she wanted to be a glass-smith, just like her mom, but she had to wait. That’s what she was told at least. One good thing did come out of that day’s adventures however. Sulking at being told she couldn’t start to learn the wonderful magic her mother weaved yet, she wandered down the beaches, only to find a flit clutch that, in that moment, happened to be hatching. Already many of the little hatchlings had escaped her grasp, but one, with a slightly torn wing, remained, creeling pitifully. She had few meatrolls as a snack on her, and gave them to the pitiful creature, only to find herself Impressed to it. Well, it she discovered when she came home with it was a bronze flit. Her father helped her to take care of him and eventually she had a little friend that stayed with her, even as she went back to hold’s version of the crèche, waiting a whole extra turn before she finally returned to her mother’s hall and begged to start learning.
Well, start she did. All the things she had to learn at first overwhelmed the ambitious young girl. What different sands and minerals to use for different qualities and colors, what heat for the flame, what tools to make what special details....It was alot. But even despite her initial setbacks, such as not learning things entirely correctly, she pushed on. Failure after mishap later, she finally learned everything there was...academically speaking that was. By then, she was almost 14 Turns old. And armed with all the academic knowledge she could possibly possess about glass-smithing, she turned to the skill part, actually starting to blow the glass. Well, she helped the more senior people first, and slowly progressed up to the point where she herself began to blow the glass. Just simple things at first. But skill won out over academics, and soon she was surprising those around her with what she produced. Fine glass creations, beautiful colored beads. But she had an inspiration.
Things with the Weyr had finally seemed to calm down, and the Hold being at least somewhat proper about its tithe, had sent it in for the upcoming Hatching and gathers, that sort of thing. Well, for whatever reason existed, she’d managed to go along and be present to see Pern’s youngest gold Impress. The eggs were her inspiration though, in their colored forms, all beautiful. In her mind, she thought, “What dragonrider would pay to have a glass form of their dragon’s egg?” Surely they would. If only the world around them was willing to believe in that same dream.
Less than a turn later, Ista Island was torn apart by earthquake and volcano. The weyr was destroyed, but not even the Hold was unscathed. They were, however, rebuildable. And rebuild they did, hold hall and port. By that time, her two eldest siblings had left the island, one to Tillek, one to Fort. Her immediately younger brother would start to help with the twins, though he was more curious in helping their father with the animals. Even though they’d been shaken and, in a sense, shattered, the family continued on. Tria would, eventually, continue on once everything had been rebuilt. And at 17, she walked the tables.
But, as was to be, there was still trouble afoot. Now, a journeywoman, she had more control over what she did. Finally, her glass eggs came to life, one for each dragon who had Hatched nearly three turns before. But she knew the danger that existed in such creations. Already the holders, even on Ista Island, were turning against the remaining riders. There was no need for the dragons, they spewed. Thread would never return. Tria refused to believe such nonsense though, and it was that refusal that endangered her.
As she was finishing the eggs, one of the masters who was very much anti-Weyr discovered that amongst them was a dragon supporter. He’d found the already finished eggs hidden away, and recognizing them, went to the workshop only to find her still working. Her bronze flit, seeing the man approaching, screeched a warning, for the master had no good will towards her. The warning startled her though, and between getting a sharp knock to the head, and the glass splattering over her, and leaving burns from her chin and down her arm, the next few days were rather painful. Of course, she recovered. After all, she only had a few burns and a rather nasty headache. What she didn’t recover from, however, was the disciplinary action that followed, or the injury to her beloved flit.
She was, after all, just a journeywoman, who’s word was against the master. And the master claimed she had deliberately endangered not only his life, but her own. Even her mother, in that moment, believed the master over her own daughter. Nevermind that the little bronze’s wing had been broken in said endangerment, something anyone there ought to have known Tria would never allow. But no one bothered to think through the details. Even at Ista, which had been protected so deligently in the past by the riders they now turned against, the anti-rider sentiment was strong. So strong, that the idea of one of their own making eggs and showing support to the dragons prickled at them. Less than a sevenday after the accident, she was stripped of all rank and privilege in the Hall and sent home packing.
She stayed there a few months longer, her father staying by her side, but her mother refusing to. Eventually, she packed what few things she had, including the few glass eggs which had survived the Halls destruction, and left. Her travels took her to the mainland, and from there to Igen Hold. She had a destination in mind, she just needed to discover it. Word had it though, that the dragons had taken up refuge at Igen Weyr.
Just a month before the final straw that would send the riders leaving the mainland, she finally got the Weyr, seeking refuge herself. Surely the weyr wouldn’t turn away a supporter. Afterall, didn’t they need as many as they could get.
Once they arrived at Izuko, she fell into line being in charge of a group of candidates. Tria stayed out of the way and silent, for the most part. After Authanth was killed, she thought about dropping out of the candidate program, but she stayed to the hatching. It was then that Sani pulled her aside for a wher-egg and she bonded to her brown wher, Trisk.
***
Pet information
Name: Eolodru
Pronunciation: Ee-low-dru
Age: 8
Type: Flit
Colour: Bronze
Personality: Relatively chipper, all things considered. He’s very sweet and loyal to those who are friendly towards His. Even more so, he is very loyal to His, whose side he never leaves, constantly watching for anyone who might wish her harm. There never seems to be any indication of any sadness from him, despite his situation, all the same.
Physical description: Poor thing as obviously seen some bruising and abuse. A rusty bronze colored, one wing has a light vein-ing effect on the membrane from where the egg shards had torn it when he hatched. That same wing is obviously broken, the bones bent awkwardly. It hadn’t been able to be set correctly and healed, and now he is unable to fly.
***
Wher Info: Trisk
brown: dark honey egg/Snow Cat: Bonded to Tria
Personality: friendly, protective, understanding, and a bit adventurous, he knows nothing of stranger danger and so has no problem meeting new acquaintances.
Physique: a bright khaki in color with nearly perfect circular patches throughout his hide of a slightly darker shade and hard to make out to the untrained eye, long like his dam, but leanly muscled.
***
Crafter information
Craft name: Glass-smith
Rank in craft: Jr. Journeywoman (stripped, see history)
Turns in craft: 7
Where studied: Ista Hold
in that case i'll move her on over, and maybe some of those interesting posts can get started....
