BRONZE WEYRLING R'KIN

Persona : R'kin
Writing Status : PC/Active
Age : 18
Gender : Male
Rank/Craft : Bronze Weyrling(TEW:38-1)/ex-Holdless
Residence : Thread's End Weyr

Physical Description : Far from being a stand out in a crowd, the young man is perhaps the definition of average in appearance - freckles sprinkled across nose and cheeks under a tan gained from life on the move, blonde hair cropped close for comfort under a riding helmet. Thin but wiry, R’kin gained a fine layer of lean muscle through hard travel and the rigors of living Holdless that has developed some mass through nutritious food and studied exercise at the Weyr. Finally gaining some much needed height, though by no means considered tall, this straw-haired rascal still manages to hold his own with larger lads, owing to sheer determination and wiliness. A thick patch of scarring runs from the top of his right shoulder over his back to end a few inches below his scapula, souvenir of a Thread scoring from the day Thread fell early just after Turnover in the 38th Turn of the Present Pass. Owing to the hazards and hardships the youth has been forced to overcome in his short life, his eyes are perhaps the only thing specifically notable about the boy - startlingly blue orbs that tell of sadness, strength, and an understanding of life usually reserved for those far older.

Personality : Once a dreamer who went about his chores in a methodical but careless manner, R’kin's indulgent fantasies disappeared with his innocence as one disaster after another struck his small family. Determined and focused are now more apt descriptions of his behavior, whatever endeavor he is engaged in. Always a patient lad, he has turned his forbearance to skills that have greatly profited with time and practice - tracking, hunting, trapping, and, though he despised the necessity, thievery. Brought up to believe in right versus wrong, the strong protecting the weak, and the importance of truth and justice, he has strong morals that he had been forced to bend in order to survive his Turns as a Holdless. Bitterness and pessimism replaced his ideologies and trust is the hardest thing of all for him to come to terms with. His outlook improved greatly upon Impression and his skills developed as a Holdless are proving to be extremely useful as a rider. A natural-born leader, mature beyond his Turns, and an inherent sense of responsibility have put him in good stead with his fellow riders.

Life Story : A farm boy from Crom with little prospects of ever seeing beyond the borders of their tiny plot of land, Ruskin spent most of his days daydreaming of any occupation other than farming. Then, in his eleventh Turn, he and his family were evicted from their land for not making the proper tribute to their Lord Holder. Their pleas for leniency fell unheard on the steward’s ears and they were rousted from their home to find that no one was willing to take in the Holdless. His father, Valkin, had heard that the southern continent was a place of bounty, of rich lands that spread as far as the eye could see, and it was up for grabs to anyone willing to work it. So he bartered passage aboard a ship and the four of them sailed into the ports of Southern just six days past Ruskin’s twelfth birthingday. Apparently over the Turns hundreds of others had heard the same tempting tales of the continent's open spaces and hospitality, because there was little land left anywhere close to the coast not already part of a major holding. Valkin, who now had an unshakable mistrust of Holders, took his family through the jungles trying to find a place where they could belong, a place they could call their own without any one else having any bearing over them. Then little Valtina came down with firehead and his parent’s went wild trying to find help for his sister. It was all for naught and Valtina died after two sevendays.

His mother was inconsolable and his father was so distraught he had a hard time focusing on anything, even the remaining members of his family. Ruskin did what he could, leading his family along the river banks, hunting and fishing to feed himself and his parents. At thirteen Turns of age he found himself responsible for more than he'd ever expected and the youth soon became proficient with a slingshot, making quick work of tunnelsnakes and other small creatures, as well as developing an innate sense for tracking and wildcraft. Finally they came across The Maze, a warren of caves that had become a home to dozens of Holdless over the Turns and now was almost a settlement unto itself. They found an unused cave deep within the twisting corridors of stone and filled it with their meager belongings in an effort to make it more like a real home. Valkin managed to drag himself from his apathy and took over the hunting duties, always making a contribution to the communal pot as was silently insisted upon by the more ruthless Holdless. He often took Ruskin with him. Rustina, his mother, took to sewing in the dark cavern of their dwelling, the mindless repetition keeping her occupied and, if not happy, at least gave her a sense of worth.

For his part Ruskin continued to hone his skills at wildcraft, his ability to slip among the forest unseen and unheard by others becoming his favorite pastime. There were others of his age but they were not the type to make friends outside their exclusive circle, nor the type to accept anyone not of their own big and surly mold, so Ruskin relished his solitude and continued to dream of a future he never had a chance at realizing.

Then, when Ruskin was fourteen, a small earthshake came and tragedy once again befell his dwindling family. Rustina was killed in a cave-in that collapsed several tunnels of The Maze, burying at least ten others under the rubble. Valkin accepted his wife’s death with a certain amount of equanimity, having come to terms with his lot in life and seeing no hope for its betterment. Ruskin spent the next two Turns watching his father waste away from despair, barely eating and becoming dependent on his son for the smallest need. Ruskin tried everything to snap the man out of his stupor but nothing seemed to work. Finally, in a last ditch effort, the boy took his father out on a hunting trip during Turnover, hoping that the once familiar activity might revitalize Valkin.

One moment he and his father were tramping through the forest and the next Ruskin was on the ground, his shoulder burning and his father writhing in agony as Thread consumed his flesh. Ruskin didn’t even have a chance to try and help his father; the man was mercifully dead within a minute of being hit. Thread had fallen a day early. The horror was enough to send anyone into shock but Ruskin had developed a thick skin and he managed to keep his wits about him. He salvaged whatever he could from his father’s pack, bandaged his scored shoulder, buried the meager remains of his last family member, and returned to The Maze. But the guilt over his part in his father's death gnawed at him and he became restless. He entertained the thought of trying to find a Hold that would take him in but he had grown as mistrustful of Holders as much as Valkin had been. It seemed the only way he was able to find some peace was when he was out in the jungle, the trials of living from day to day keeping him preoccupied. So he moved on. And on. And on, until he found that his only chance for survival was to take what others could give but were not willing to spare.

Then one day, after having pilfered some much needed supplies, he was caught by a Bitran intent on harming him for his theivery. A brownrider from Thread’s End came to his rescue and offered to take the youth back to the Weyr. Ruskin took up J’yak’s offer and returned to the Weyr as the rider’s ward. Acclimation to his new surroundings took time and there were many bumps along the way as the were many Weyr residents that disapproved of the Holdless.

Eventually Ruskin was Searched and even though a bad fever that swept through the Candidates Barracks made him miss the Hatching, he did get to stand at the next one. There he Impressed a bronze dragonet and proved to himself and everyone else that he belonged in the Weyr. Now his time is spent in working on being the best rider he can and trying to be worthy of the great honor that was bestowed upon him.

Dragon's Name : Bazlith
Dragon's Colour : Bronze
Dragon's Age : 1
Sire/Dam : Dredeth/Portiath
Rider's Age at Impression : 16

Physical Dragon : Bazlith is a rich shade of bronze, when the sun hits him just right he looks almost gold. Dark spots around his joints and along his back ridge are the only non-uniform areas. He has yet to obtain any marks or scars.

Dragon's Personality:The young dragon takes his duty extremely seriously, focusing on his drills intently and listening to other riders' stories in order to better his ability to fight Thread. While he spends most of his time trying to live up to expectations of a bronze, he does manage to revert to a playful hatchling when the others of his clutch get involved.

Last updated on 21-Jul-10.