The rider before you wears a long brown open leather trenchcoat, the old worn clothing hands off his shoulders not dropping to the touch the ground. Underneath is what looks like a vest and under that a white shirt, a brown belt can be seen just under the white colored shirt. The long tan pants can barely be seen if he's wearing the leather trench coat, black worn boots can be just barely seen under the pants.

The years and trials of being a rider have taken a toll on the bronzer, many scars line his arms and body, a few even around his face. Dark stone grey eyes look out at a world with so much seeming anger and contempt that one would think him angry all the time. A strong defined jaw and somewhat bushy brows give him a very rugged look and appeal. A handsome man yes, but he for the hate of that word wears his face as poorly as possible. A five o'clock shadow always around the edge of his face, long and messy hair, and about anything else he can do to prove otherwise. And though one can't see it, for a forty turn man, he is fit and in shape. Strong pecks and a toned and shapely midsection give the clothes he wears a nice shape, though if one were to look where the tunic parts a large thick scar comes down across his chest. His strong and thick legs making the pants he wears a little tight around the calfs and thighs.


Roroc has had a simple life at Igen hold spending most of his time helping his parents at their craft. His father a retired smith spends most of his time helping out in the weyr with what he can. Roroc always live day to day not worrying about what the next day brought. His mother the head baker would constantly make him help her out in the kitchen, even though his father was completely opposed to it. Which made him quite handy to have around, and although he never really wanted to be a smith or a baker, he didn't mind knowing some of both trades. Strange enough his life has been all good, rarely any bad ever came to him. Which made him sheltered and happy, which is mostly why he's always smiling.

R'oc soon in his travels came to Telgar Weyr where he was searched and asked to stand, being the kind of adventrous person that he was. R'oc accepted and stood infront of the clutch, where a rather fiesty egg just happened to hatch. That is the first time Nasheth first laid eyes upon R'oc, their spirits flared at each others sights and the friendship and life long bond was formed. Since that time R'oc and Nasheth have traveled from weyr to weyr forming bonds with other people and eventually finding permanent residence at Igen Weyr. And from there Igen was doomed to take what R'oc and Nasheth Stir up, like it or not.


Name Gender Relation Location Position
Kiesi Female Daughter by Sianne Xanadu Weyrbrat
Zayt Male Son by Sianne Xanadu Weyrbrat
Quinar Male Son By Sianne Xanadu Weyrbrat


None At This Time


Daydreaming Scamp Bronze Nasheth

Confidence exudes from the posture of this radiant bronze, not the indignant defiance of the proud, but the certainty of an eternal optimist. Each smooth swath of skin is haloed in swirls of hammered gold and whorls of ruddy copper, making the dragon seem a living, breathing statue of molten metal that has been shaped into a beast of subtle strength and power. From a deep, heavy chest he spreads wide wings, each veined in the shimmer of a warm silver that adds a cooling touch to the warmth of his hide, a measure of stability in a form that otherwise seems a moving wave of metallic shimmer. A line of curving ridges gives way, at the tip of his tail, in a fork tinged with a burnished green, a similar shade that splotched the end of his muzzle and outlines in faint shadows each faceted, crystalline eye.