Here is a lad who carries himself with swaggering pride, defiance echoed in not only how he holds himself, but his stride. Scrawny, lanky, and short for his age, he seems all elbows, knees, and blazing enthusiasm. Wild, sun-bleached brown-gold hair has grown out to fall haphazardly about his ears, and somehow still manages to fly about without order even now. Stubborn-seeming as only a teenager can manage, vibrant blue eyes stare out from beneath that messy hair, under dark eyebrows that seem constantly half-quirked in some private amusement. The set of an angular chin reflects the stubbornness, while upright shoulders scream pride — not that you couldn't see that one by taking a look at his expression, which seems to constantly verge on a smirk. A force of nature contained in just under five feet of height, it seems impossible that so much fury could be contained in such a small, awkward package, but there you have it. And if he smells faintly of explosives…what's it to you?
Sporting slightly too-large black trousers and a slightly greying umber tee-shirt, he's the picture of a nice, sane Fort Candidate. That knot echoes this, brown and black with that prominent strand of white, worn with no small amount of pride.


Alzanbri was born the first son of a rider pair at Fort Weyr, Zalana and R'iahn, riders of green Zaivanth and blue Jaesriuth, respectively. They were Weyrmates, and had been for several turns when he was born — into a relatively large and infinitely loving family that would grow to drive him completely batshit. He was a difficult infant, and spent a good percentage of the time loudly voicing his opinions on all matters big and small. This trait only grew as he did, but his patience did not, and by the time he was four, he was having drawn-out arguments with his mother about the merits of bedtime, the usefulness of eating vegetables, and just about anything else he could come up with. Zalana was patient but firm, while R'iahn was impatient but not prone to disciplining the child; he /argued/ with him. Generally, R'iahn won their debate sessions (humans have good reasons for sleeping at night, and plus, if he didn't get his butt to bed, the tunnelsnakes would eat him), but from time to time, even Alzanbri managed to out-stubborn his father.

The advent of a younger sister hardly pleased young Alzanbri. He was righteously (as far as he was concerned!) jealous of the girl, from the time she was born. Briahla, however, was quiet and calm — and eventually, given several sevendays of digesting the new status, he didn't so much hate the baby as dislike her. She was a girl. What are girls good for? Alzanbri had no idea that these months would be the last with his mother; he was very much his mother's son, for all that he seemed to take after his father's dragon more than anything. But when Zalana's life was taken in the line of duty, his was turned on its' ear. Still entirely too young to properly understand the full consequences of what had happened, Zan recovered from the shock as most children do, while he spent several months with R'iahn's youngest sister and her own children. One of R'iahn's longtime friends, closest other than Zalana, and his honorary aunt O'rly also helped during this period, while nobody really saw much of R'iahn.

He missed his father (and mother!), of course, but he was a very busy boy. Ierne had a good population of children with which to make friends, and of course he set immediately to that — bragging all the while about his mother, of course. The tale varied, but by the time R'iahn had recovered, half of the Weyrhold's brats were convinced that Zan's mother was some sort of semi-legendary heroine who had taken out several rabid felines with her bare hands, then flown headfirst into a storm by herself to save a whole hold, only to die trying. It was a suitably noble death, as far as he was concerned! But after a few months of living with his father, the man broached the subject of foster care; he and Zalana had never considered it. But with Zalana gone, R'iahn's own upbringing nudged him more and more towards the option of fostering. He, after all, had a strong relationship with both foster and real parents, and wouldn't have been dragged from either if he could have helped it. So it was that a relatively resentful Alzanbri found himself shipped off to Ista; at least his new foster parents were friends of the family, though. R'iahn managed to talk the family of Hallac and Sigam into fostering his wayward son. Alzanbri wasn't exactly keen on the idea, but he lost that particular argument roughly twenty eight times before he gave in to the logic his father set forth. Stupid parents.

Not living in Ista Weyr did not keep young Alzanbri from there. Several times a sevenday, the Weyr would find itself host to the boy, who would cause who knows what sort of trouble before heading back home to his foster-family. He somehow got caught only rarely by Sig, and managed to keep up with his chores at home pretty well. Emhall and Hallac took it upon themselves to train Alzanbri in some sort of useful craft — and while he was never an official SeaCraft Apprentice, he did learn a great deal in the turns he spent at Ista Hold with them. It also honed his mischievous habits, having to sneak very carefully so as not to be caught by equally crafty foster-parents. Within Ista he made a name for himself, but it was not long-lived. By the time he was ten turns old, R'iahn had been in touch with one of his siblings at Fort Weyr. Risabhian and her Weyrmate had welcomed a new cousin into the family, and Riah volunteered his son to help them in the first tricky months of parenthood. Needless to say, Alzanbri was less-than-pleased with this change in location. Though he had at first been reluctant to leave his father and O'rly, he had grown to think of now-S'gam's family as equal parts of his family, and had forged a close friendship with Sig's youngest sister, Esiae.

So his first few months at Fort were rocky. He spent most of his time defiantly sneaking out of the Weyr and into the hills, watched calmly by Risabhian's Weyrmate's brown dragon most of the time. The boy wasn't much help; but Ris let him have his freedom. Soon enough, he had made a few friends among the Weyrbrats in his place-of-birth, despite the fact that he hadn't lived there since he was very young. Certainly, he made enemies with his brash and unconcerned-with-others attitude, but for the most part people tolerated the lad just as long as he didn't get in their way too much. And he didn't. He made a point to never get /caught/ behind any misdoings around the Weyr, and all of the ones he was implicated in were generally not a good case. In spite of this, he found himself spending an inordinate amount of time in the infirmary — and much like his father's dragon, he had strong preferences as to which Healers he liked. He had taken an instant liking to Galina, perhaps seeing the older girl with a child's perspective, maybe just determined to get a smile from the healer — who knows, honestly. His time at Fort was not to be long-lived, though, for scarcely a turn passed after his arrival and he was called back to his father's side; this time for the advent of another sibling. Another sibling which turned into two, which turned into him spending more time than he would have wanted to on an entirely different /continent/ from the friends he had made at Ista and Fort.

Though he did not spend the entire two and a half turns away from Fort at Xanadu, it's not entirely clear where he was for the gap of time between when he left R'iahn and O'rly's weyr and arrived back at Fort. What was clear was that his demeanor was wildly different from the boy who had left Fort turns back. The lad was quieter, gentler, prone to spending more hours with his nose in a book than running with the wild pack of Weyrbrats and causing mayhem. He had not settled into a craft; he was much too busy reading every book within grasp of his fingers or doing something insane like helping out wherever he could lend a hand, around chores. When P'rius — who he had last known as Pralius, a healer — and his blue Zhieth asked he and Aamanz to stand, however, he could hardly say no! After all, he'd plotted out his entire life as a younger boy, and number one among those goals had been 'IMPRESS DRAGON', or something to that effect. One has to be a Candidate to Impress, generally speaking! So he set to Candidacy with gusto, much more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary and a frightening lack of complaining.


Name Relation Age Location Position
R'iahn Father +26.3T Xanadu Weyr AWLM - Bluerider (Jaesriuth)
Zalana Mother +25.1T Deceased Greenrider (Zalanth)
O'rly Step-Mother?/Aunt +23.8T Xanadu Weyr Greenrider (Sanldoth)
Isica Foster Mother ~+25T Ista Hold Holder
Emhall Foster Father ~+25T Ista Hold SeaCrafter
Briahla Sister -7.6T Xanadu Weyr Weyrbrat
Seilistraye Sister -11.7T Xanadu Weyr Infant
Belsiaryn Brother -11.7T Xanadu Weyr Infant
S'gam Foster Brother +13.4T Ista Weyr Weyrleader - Bronzerider (Ittisieth)
Hallac Foster Brother +8.4T Fort Weyr SeaCrafter
Cai Foster Sister ~+7T? Ista Weyr Greenrider (Ariebth)
Esiae Foster Sister ~-.5T Ista Hold Hold Brat
Risabhian Aunt +24.6T Fort Weyr Nanny
Iv'ram Cousin +3.9T Ista Weyr Greenrider (Alshianth)

These are just the most prominent relatives! So didn't feel like putting any more up.


Waving in the Wind Blue Quin
The wingsails on this blue are larger than most, constantly seeming to flutter in the wind, while his body is covered in undulating patterns. They vary from such a dark blue as to be nearly black to a light blue, nearly white over his thin frame. The patterns sway back and forth, like grass moved by an invisible breeze. He is small and fast, though his wings are almost clumsily expansive — he uses them to drift on the wind like so much a tiny blue sailboat.

Starscape of Intellect Blue Belior
A rich hue of ultramarine bathes this blue, highlighted with pale crystal patterns, in the glory of the nightly landscape. Uneven loops and spirals of topaz and paler color ripple outwards in rings from his nose across his neck and back. More rings radiate out from the tips of his long, slender wings, cascading tourqoise and lapis lazuli in ripples of luminous colors. From his tail tip back towards his body, more muted vapor blue loops color him with the shudders of a dying star. Around his eyes are smaller blue ring markings the color of the old Japanese phenomenon known as foxfire.

Forbidden Hunger Bronze Adonys
Sinful layers of bronze have been heated, folded, and bent ever-so-lovingly by the hands of a mastersmith into the form of a sleekly proportioned firelizard. His hide is far from being pure bronze, though it could hardly be construed as muddled — rather, layers of finest metal have been worked to create a subtle woodgrain to ease over his sensual physique, his hide bright from the tantalizing application of platinum and tempered with warm copper. Alluring gold and purest bronze play their roles most charmingly, but subtle accents of devious silver warp and weave their way throughout until they gain prominence at his slender talons. His wings are the greatest masterwork, great veils of scintillating brilliance that, when turned this way and that, create the illusion of being any number of the other metals that his hide appears to be wrought of. When cleaned and well-oiled, his hide can be near-blinding … and, thus, create a most tempting lure to draw the eye and hand of the unwary.

Bringing Down the Sun Blue Corvi
A deep blue-grey paints this bulky blue's hide; down to the tips of his paws, stark black as if burned by a thousand suns. The blue-grey is not that of an unhealthy creature, but rich and dark, flashing with various odd shades when his hide catches sunlight — an effect most prominent over his long wings. His nose is sharp and pointed, almost beak-like, his claws dainty, his tail short. All together an odd character he might seem, with his quick movements and tricky mannerisms. Don't read too much into that, though; for all his dark shades and shifty habits, this fellow is a good companion.