Welcome to Tribal Weyr! We are a semi-canon Weyr. We are Threadless and set on the Southern Continent in an alternate future from canon Pern, racked by war and civil unrest.
It has been turns since the now deceased dictator H'yr and his army attacked the Tribe. The North has all but fallen silent in infighting for succession, and the Invasion has fallen to the backs of most minds in light of brighter events. The dead have been mourned and we have lived on.
However, not all is quiet in the South. Long-laid plans have crawled to fruition in the shadows, and an unseen enemy has struck at the heart, killing the Weyrwoman C'zek and kidnapping candidates. The North will not remain quiet. It's time for the other shoe to drop.
skinned by freesong @ caution
Dragonriders of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey. Premise is the brainchild of both Night and Sprinkles, so please no stealing. Characters belong to the individual player. All art belongs to their creator, most is cited, if not it's likely it belongs to Night. Mira did the background, titlebars, and one of the banners.
Dragon and wher pixels are most likely based on those done by khiitan, likely with edits by either Mary Seif or the sprite's editor.
Wher face edits by Mira.
Welcome to Tribal Weyr. We hope you enjoy your visit.
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Tathevi is rather a luckless child in appearance and health, though she was born into a world of plenty. Her tiny body tells the story of life and death struggles against the simplest of attackers, and yet her powerful mind seems to be the complete opposite, rebelling against convention and authority with all the strength of someone much larger. One would be surprised to discover she was born in the South - a wisp of a girl like her will never look as if she could comfortably survive the extreme weather and dangerous beasts of the Southern wilderness - actually, one might wonder if she could survive the North too! Though she looks as if she should have been born in the North, to a wealthy family intent on marrying their lovely little girl off the moment she became old enough, Tathevi is not what one could call incapable. Having gone into the dragonhealercraft on choice and talent, aided by her unusual ability to hear dragons, she is quickly proving to not need all the extra tender loving care her family tries to give her. Perhaps this is why she decided to go completely in the opposite direction from her favorite brother and the rest of her family - and even most of the Caverns and Weyr. Tathevi has become well-versed in herbology, dragon anatomy, and parts of the craft that involve the use of her long, thin, deft fingers, such as sewing up torn wingsails and taking blood.
There is, without a doubt, something wrong with this child. One need merely look closely to see that this is a sick little girl. In build she is quite thin, though not what one might call emaciated, and from a distance appears incredibly ethereal and fragile - rather like a lovely little willow bough that dances and sways with the slightest breeze. She is a faerie, a nymph, built with slight, but sturdy sticks and wrapped in soft, pale, speckled skin. Couple this with her usual choices in clothing - flowy, comfortable sundresses, overlarge and loose shirts and calf-length pants - she the poster child for an adorable little fairy. She has a lightning fast metabolism plaguing her ability to put on some much needed weight, and after contracting Brightfeather fever (known as psittacosis to Terran folk) as a babe, also is white cell anemic (called Leukopenia by Terran folk), and can get sick very, very easily. It is not uncommon to see the girl fighting back coughs, blowing her nose, or other similar methods of preventing disease transfer when around other people. She abhors this need for such care, this teensy body, this often sickly appearance. It makes her easy to target, effectively a wimp, a weakling, a non-threatening, incapable being marked as an object in need of over-protectiveness and often teased. She resents such extra attention, chafing beneath the additional checks, continuous sheltering, and annoying children of the Caverns.
Despite her generally weak appearance, she is not an ugly child. Her face is ovalline, and exhibits a pixie pointed chin that could be called elfish if the Pernese knew of the fairy tale elves. Her eyes are slightly wide-set, but her nose is slender and her lips soft and pouty. Her hair is long, very long, actually, and falls to the tops of her buttocks when let loose. It is thick, wavy, and for all intents and purposes, the sort of hair that any young girl would die to have. It is easy to style, with a natural wave that can be shifted into a curl, straightened, or worked into an updo with the simplest of methods. A lush, warm red shade, her hair is terribly unusual given her Southern origins, but one could always say that it is simply because she takes after her mother, or even like her brother, At'ves. Unlike her similarly red family members, however, Tathevi exhibits an extra unusual trait - heterochromia. Specifically, Tathevi has central heterochromia, where both eyes take on two different colors, with one hue centered around the pupil, and the other farther out in the iris, surrounding the first color. For Tathevi in particular, the pigment disorder manifests as a yellow inner eye that fades out into a vibrant shade of green. Really quite striking and much like a cats', Tathevi's eyes have garnered her attention on more than one occasion - some in good ways, others in bad. She has practice in the sort of glare that would stop someone in their tracks - and her unusual eyes only aid in that.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
It is with this one word I can describe just about all that this child is. With this one word, I can pull a veil from over your eyes and allow you to see the littlest healer for what she truly is. Everything she is, has done, and will do stems from this passion, this drive to succeed, to prove to the world that the sickly daughter of a firelizard breeder can do great, great things. Every action, every thought, every word that leaps from those soft lips streams from her very deepest heart – in conversation, in personal interaction, in most every aspect of her life, the young teen rarely will pause to think over consequences - good or bad – instead she simply acts. Every noise, every word, even the essence of her being is created from a beautiful flame of color and emotion that runs through her mind and body like a hotwire. Passion, from anger or love, hate or kindness, from excitement or depression – it matters little. She is the crux of her emotions, for nothing is worn-out or pale, nothing is rigid or icy. She is what she does, and nothing more – and she has many a name.
The child-healer, the storm’s bane, the dragon's valkyrie, the girl with a voice beyond a voice; These are only a few of the titles for a prodigal dragonhealer of her intense caliber. She can be compared to the sun in her brazen and compassionate tendencies – with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns, she can burn you to your very core, reduce you to little more than a pile of ash on the floor; and yet, her depth of caring really does extend past the suede-hided creatures she treats, displaying all the warmth of the holiday hearth in winter. She may even hold a special place in the hearts of those whom she has grown close to over the turns, particularly those who can see that depth of caring hidden under that heated shield. She really is easily concerned for other people's feelings, and really does try to be gentle to avoid hurting them – but with teachers like Mafalda and Vaeya, this is really only a half-proficient skill. She is, if anything, socially stunted, unsure of how to respond to everyday people or human patients without an acidic tongue getting in the way. Her family immersed her in the shades of grey a person falls into, from her beloved, encouraging older brother, Athves, to her annoying, prankster brother Nather and her powerful, gentle giant sister, Vethria to her extremely shy little cousin Jerys, Tathevi has come into contact with most any sort of disposition – but from a distance. She wasn’t allowed to participate in the rough-housing tendencies of her several brothers, wasn’t allowed to go along on trundlebug hunts or trips to the river; she was kept in a proverbial bubble, where she would be safe from disease and activities that could easily injury the thin, sickly girl. She grew to be an observer from such things, watching the family reunion from a distance, laughing quietly to herself as she played with her own, carefully cleaned toys and not with those of her friends or family, bottling it all up.
A dangerous inclination.
She really didn’t get to do more than observe; something that brought her closer to her older, inkcrafter brother, Athves. The man was calm, quiet, and careful to help his favorite sister temper that volatile ire she was developing, chafing under all the secreting away and overprotection of her other family members. He helped bring forth a sense of sensitivity toward conflict in the young girl - Tathevi honestly came to dislike interpersonal conflict after seeing the effect it had on Athves when she finally directed an outburst at him, and has discovered she doesn’t tolerate it very well either. Situations charged with conflict can drive the (though fiery) relatively peaceful Tradergirl into a state of distress or charged anger at the simple drop of a hat - and this is usually when she flies off the handle, her emotions boiling as she ceases the conflict as soon as she can manage – usually violently. Like Mafalda, she can scream and shout and backhand idiots and contradictory riff-raff, scaring them away with her perfected Mafalda-glare. Athves never treated her as incapable, he genuinely believed that she could be something great if she put her mind to it – and that was something Thevi really needed to grow – and it is perhaps the reason she began more fervently looking for a niche in life meant for her...
And when she began truly making use of her gift.
You see, Tath, as the dragons came to know her, was blessed (or cursed) with that sometimes frightening gift only heard about in legends - the ability to hear dragonspeech, any dragonspeech, as if the creatures were holding the conversation right beside her. It is like any human conversation for the child - and she can respond telepathically in turn. Dragons need not bespeak her as they might their rider's friends, they can simply speak as they would normally – a boon for Tathevi's line of work... most of the time. While she did get practice learning to tune out and speak to dragons from living in the Trader Caverns as long as she has, by working with another healer and dragon-gifted woman, Yacu, and from the occasional conversation with the Northern refugee, Rivael, Thevi hasn't quite perfected the skill, and can come out of the dragon infirmary with splitting headaches from the telepathic beasts simply all speaking at once. It is during these times she is at her snappiest, so be careful when dealing with her! Despite this, healing is her being, and dragonhealing is her desire; she loves her work, and she loves her dragons – in most cases, considerably more than the people she deals with on a regular basis. After spending time with the Journeyman Vaeya, however, she learned ways to hold back that potency and instead calmly and carefully address such things - you have to be able to take responsibility when dealing with frantic or wounded dragons, particularly those who throw up a big fuss. From experience, Tathevi has learned shouting and violence tends to work better with humans, while staying calm and careful works better with dragons; though there are, of course, exceptions to both.
Blessed with strong intuitive capabilities despite a lack of social use, Tathevi trusts her own instincts above all else, though she is open to opinions from others. One can never grow without learning from other people, after all – but nonetheless she heavily considers each thought before deciding if it is a befitting choice. It’s in her training to make absolutely sure each judgment is sound, proficient, and correctly levied. Poor decisions easily could lead to the demise of an innocent; and she refuses to lose any patient to such idiocy. She is a perfectionist by nature and by design; if it doesn’t live up to her high standards, she will not use it. This also manifests in doubt that she is living to her fullest potential - though usually at peace with everything else, Thevi has a less than ideal self-image - likely something that came about from her parents constant coddling over her sickly form. She always thinks there’s something else she can be doing to improve, to demonstrate that she isn't simply an immunodeficient, physically weak little waif. She has a strong, diplomatic values system that she lives in accordance with while on the job, believing in constant growth, and usually doesn’t revel in successes for very long. In some ways, she is gentle and easy going, in others; she sets the bar too high, expecting accomplishments that may be out of reach for a long while to come. She has ideals she wants to reach, which is good, but she probably shouldn’t shoot so high to hit the bird on the ground, so to speak.
A natural nurturer, Tathevi is patient, devoted, and protective. She will make a loving parent and have a very strong bond with her children, just as she learned from her closest sibling. This can sometimes manifest itself in Tath being quite stubborn; again, her bar may be set just a little too high, but she will push her kids (and anyone else she cares for) to be the best they can be, wrapped in devoted and sincere guidance and kept warm with a very deep caring. She has learned from the best healers one can find at the Weyr and in the Trader Caverns, has taken parts of their tendencies and all of their experience to heart; it isn’t like she doesn’t know what people are capable of. She decided from a young, impressionable age that she wanted to devote her life to the art of healing. She followed in the footsteps of older siblings, breaking out of the craft mold her family had fallen into, and shattering preconceptions about herself as a chronically ill child and even more so as a gifted young woman. She has worked hard to get where she is today; and with a solid, instinctively guided head on her shoulders and a decent enough learned handle on her temper, she is not giving it up. She’s mentally strong, and she isn’t afraid to make use of that strength – manipulation, acidic comments, and verbal slights are not below her arsenal of ass-kickery. She may not be able to physically deck you, but she can intellectually spar with the best of them; if you prove to be too much of a threat even then, however, don’t be surprised to hear a certain masterhealer coming down the hall. Why? Well… like any good gambler, Tathevi is not without her fail-safe winning token; she will tell Mafalda on you.
I'm damn serious. Run.
Despite this slightly alarming tendency towards the underhanded and fiesty, Tathevi is capable of great profundity of feeling and personal achievement - this is a girl that is simply trying to find her place in the world, carving out that perfect niche to fit her slim and sickly body, but extremely powerful mind. She is a mediator, a technological wizard, a prodigal child intent on ambitiously bettering herself. She keeps her ducks in a row and embraces the theory that we never stop learning, proving every day that she is far more than she will ever seem.
H I S T O R Y
When Tathevi was born, there was little cause for fanfare. What was another child added to the already existing seven? Sure, her bright red hair and heterochromatic eyes called for some intrigue as they became more noticeable, but in general her birth meant little more than simply the arrival of another set of hands to help around the caverns, to teach about the world and the wonderful creatures in it. From the moment she was truly conscious, Tathevi was exposed to firelizards, dragons, and people. For her first birthingday, the girl was given firelizard eggs as presents, yielding a green and a bronze of her very own; and yet, something wasn't quite right about her. Even at this young age, she was picking up on voices of dragons only a days walk away, though she had no means of explaining it to her parents beyond breaking into fits of crying or laughter. She was simply written off as a fussy baby in these very early turns, though she was still a happy little girl. And then came the Brightfeather trader.
Brightfeathers, these vividly colored, rainbow dazzling birds could repeat phrases they'd heard before, and looked ravishing as they flew, crimson feathers flashing in the dim light of the Caverns. Alas, they carried something many of the Cavernskin hadn't contracted - Brightfeather fever. It was mild for the adults and strong, healthy teenagers, ranging anywhere from diarrhea to fever, and when a healer from the area these avians originated from created a vaccine and antibiotic against the flu-like disease, the majority of the Trader Caverns was easily taken care of. Tathevi, however, being only a turn, contracted a severe case of the disease, nearly pneumonic in presented symptoms. By the time it and the other infections that came in while she was vulnerable were cleared out, she was left immunodeficient and prone to getting sick from even the barest of exposures. She was left white-blood cell anemic, and when her family at last grasped this, their lovely little girl was sheltered, kept away from other children, the sick, and the elderly.
She was kept off to the side during the massive family reunions her clan was famous for, left to simply listen to Grammaw Averis's pretend ramblings, watch from a distance while the other kids played with Aunt Aereli's ridged 351, Poof, shake her head at Uncle Vrystan's hare-brained conspiracies about Wherries and their position on Pern as the underground rebels of Nature. She could only observe while Vethria, the strongest of her siblings despite being female, gently handled her flitter flock and spoke of whers with Uncle Mud and Cousin Breyre, or Nather pulled his latest prank on one of their other brothers or poor little Cousin Jerys. She spent her time with Wort, Grammaw Averis's ancient, handsome bronze firelizard and her own two babies, immune to any diseases they could contract as she was, learning to knit at Aunt Aereli's feet, or helping Aunt Veryn hand out the herbs that helped to take the edge off the stressors of their annual family reunion. She couldn't physically go and play, she was told, because she could be so easily hurt. She couldn't interact with Uncle Mud because he was always covered in something that could get her sick. No, all she could do was play checkers or chess with the adults, or sit in a corner and play with her own toys or her firelizards. They were her sanctuary, her firelizards - something that she could actually interact with that didn't involve game pieces flying around the table because she'd easily beaten an older relative. It is, perhaps, no wonder she was always so close to firelizards and their much larger cousins - people isolated her. In some ways this helped - it kept her from contracting the more dangerous diseases when they came around; and all those games of checkers and chess really do sharpen your intellect. In other manners though, it only made matters worse - what immune system she had left was not exposed to what it could fight off, and so when she finally did catch these things, they were ten times as worse; and she was socially stunted.
While she loved her parents and knew they were only trying to do their best for her, she chafed under the constant check ups and intermittent sheltering, being a very bright child as she was. Intelligence was never in short supply with the young girl, and thankfully, one sibling, another black sheep, realized this. Athves, whom she called Atty, became her dearest friend - he didn't shelter her, or prevent her from doing what she wanted to do. He encouraged her to find her own path, to prove that her body didn't own her, she owned it. He helped her see that she could be just as strong as anyone else, no matter what she had to face - in fact, that it made her stronger than most people. By the time she was five, Tathevi had become more outwardly powerful from these confidence building talks, her intense, unwavering gaze the herald of her unchanging decision-making and her willingness to learn. She had been around the infirmary for most of life by this time, and the child was fascinated by the jobs and skills the healers had - and still more by the dragons that frequented the place.
Huge, powerful, majestic, even in pain, she strove to be like them - to survive and grow, despite debilitating injuries. It was then that her gift came out into the open - she had been listening and talking to the dragons for a while now, her gentle mindvoice something constant that many of the repeat visitors had even come to look forward to. They had come to know of her as Tath, a draconic nickname that had blossomed from one weyrling's inability to listen closely as she gave him her name. It wasn't until one day, after she had turned seven, that a very special, very large brown had realized it wasn't a dragon he was speaking to, but the tiny child clinging to the skirts of another woman with such a gift - Yacu. The brown made light of this with the older healer, and discovered that the older woman had had an inkling of such a thing... but no one had been able to confirm it.
That conversation, in the end, was what led Tathevi to her true calling - dragonhealing. She had never thought much of firelizard breeding, like her brothers and sisters had, and when Athves had gone into ink-crafting exclusively, she decided to follow his lead and his coaching and pick something for herself, something she loved and wanted to do, and would enjoy going to every day. And so, with some help honing her gift from Yacu and lots of practice, the little girl took to the dragon infirmary, her small, nimble fingers making sutures and stitches easy, while her small size made it simple to avoid applying too much pressure to her patients. It goes without saying that her ability to speak with and hear any dragon made her job even easier - instead of having to go through the middleman to hear about where aches and pains were, Tath could ask herself, hear herself, shards, even feel herself where the injury was and what was going on.
Atty continued to be a very prominent person in her life, despite their difference in craft. He would come in now and again, help her brush up on human anatomy despite her general lack of working with human patients, converse with her about what it was like to be able to hear the fantastic creatures and what they sounded like. The redheaded man would appear some days on a whim, intent on gifting her with drawings of dragons she'd spoken about, and even on occasion come in to ask her about abstract images he'd conjured up from her descriptions of a dragon's mindvoice, how they sounded, tasted, or felt in her vastly open telepathic mind. In his free time, he'd come over simply to see how she was doing and, if he could, help her with her studies, or sometimes just plain fetching things for her - all she needed to do was ask, and he would arrive on scene with whatever she requested. She was his favorite little sister, and he her favorite older brother; it really was saccharine sweet, seeing the two of them together, a pair of redheaded kids with so very different talents, but so much love for one another.
With Atty helping her stay grounded and happy, it was no surprise the child flourished, quickly became proficient with anything dragonhealing, not to mention how she became considerably healthier. Dragons didn't tend to catch any illnesses she could contract from them, and she came to find that the more time she spent in the dragon infirmary, the less often she got sick - and even when she did, she was so close to the regular infirmary that she could get what she needed herself, or simply ask masterhealer Mafalda or journeyman Vaeya. They never seemed to mind helping the young prodigy - and since it was almost always the same thing she needed to come in for, it was like the two older women could read her mind some days. By ten, she was a common sight around the dragon infirmary and the infirmary itself, and now, at fourteen turns, she is well on her way to early journeymanship. Some might even wonder if the young girl might become a dragonhealing master well before her time - Tathevi herself says that is a load of dragon dung, but she couldn't help but be optimistic; just like she couldn't help but be optimistic when her brother was officially searched.
His candidacy had little affect on the pair's relationship, and she found that he actually stopped by more often when he was juggling candidacy with his craft, inspiration for several things becoming more readily available as he was put into such closer proximity with other hopeful faces and weyrling dragonets. His recent impression to bronze Brunhilth, his very lovely, very female metallic dragon, has had quite the effect on the girl, however. She isn't what one might call jealous of her brother or his dragon, but she is a touch lonely. Sure, she can speak with any dragon she wants, but she doesn't have one that is her dragon, her mindmate, her other half. As Athves, now At'ves's visits became fewer and farther between in the early months of his weyrlinghood, she couldn't help her loneliness, her wish to fill the void her brother left open with his inability to visit. Sure, she understood the guy had a dragon to feed and oil and care for, but... she missed him. She began to lag in her studies, feeling for the first time in a long, long time the cold tang of depression; a certain whiterider would not hear of it, however. Vaeya, also missing a very dear sibling, began to pop in on the little girl as she began to cool, acting less and less like the fiery child she was, and it can only be said that they simply fell into the role of psuedo-siblings.
Tath, though younger than Vaeya's missing sister, was just as feisty and forward, and happily took up the job of making the older girl feel like tearing her hair out every once in awhile. Vaeya, though older and the wrong gender to match Tathevi's older brother, was just as calm and collected as he, and so she happily took up the job of keeping Thevi in line. As At'ves's Weyrlinghood nears its less fervently time-consuming period, he and Tath have begun to get back in touch, but Vaeya has indeed become Tathevi's new older sister, and she is not giving her up - 'cause hell, the human infirmary isn't that important, and she's already graduated weyrlinghood, so her lovely little melanistic white doesn't need as much policing as Atty's bronze. Now, if only Tathevi could get At'ves and Vaeya to sit in the same room together long enough for them to say more than just hello, you're Tath's brother/ you're Tath's mentor...
... WHAT? She doesn't care if you don't like the idea. Relationships will bloom and meddling sisters will meddle!
Of a steady, sturdy proportion, this bronze firelizard is stacked in such a way as to give one the impression of something at once geometric and idealized, as though every measurement was taken to be precisely appealing. A blocky, strong-featured head balances out a slender body and a long, slim tail, every muscle chiseled to a sculpted perfection. From a bit whip-thin in his youth to a strong presence in his adulthood, he goes through his phases the same as every firelizard, and yet he does so with a tidiness that avoids scapegrace. His hide, in truth, is not so very pretty as to be eye-catching and gorgeous as it is simply interesting in passing. The shade of him is a sort of sandy bronze with pale swathes of almost milky-brown overall with flares of dim, forge-fire orange highlighting the spread of his impressively wide wings - not the bright, flickering dance of a forest fire, but the dull, deep glow of hot coals. The coloration gives him an off-balance appearance, for his hide isn't completely symmetrical.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Gentle, Sweet-Natured, Calm, Protective, Guardianesque, Delicate, Fatherly, Subtle, Quiet, Unbothered by what other's think.
Gentle, elegant strokes of mint curl about this green's frame, giving her a peculiarly frosted look. Her base color is a near white, only differentiated from the snowy color by the glints of green that can be seen when the light strikes it. This is hardly a soft, volumptuous firelizard by any means, however - She has sharp angles instead of curves. Her color tends to disguise this and make her severe looks a bit gentler in appearance. Her forefeet are a slightly darker green, as if she had recently stuck them in a bucket of color.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Cuddly, Motherly, Protective, Gossipy, Curious, Nosy, Forgetful, Talks mainly to her Pet and no other humans, Prefers noises over Imagery.
Member No.: 51
Joined: 5-April 11
B O N D E D
Bonded quote goes here.
[/IMG]--- To be Made ---[/IMG] Lyrics to be added.
...EGG... The egg the bonded hatches from. ...PRONUNCIATION... Pronunciation of the bonded's name. ...RANK... Color rank. ...SIZE... Size from nose to hip in feet. ...AGE... Current age of the bonded. (#) Current age of the bonded. (Hatchling, Adolescent, Adult.) Clutch the bonded hatched from. ...COLOR CODE... Color codes for bonded's speech.