Ashen blond hair works in a messy array atop this young man's head, spiking out just a bit in shortness. A few beads have been woven into a set of longer pieces of hair, brown pieces hanging rather visible against the blond strands. Two green eyes are set below a set of thin brows, with a thin nose moving down the center of his face. His build is generally thin, with enough muscle mass to give the hint of a fairly active lifestyle. Tanned, his skin takes on a somewhat dark hue, stretching over his unimposing height of five feet and five inches.
His clothes are of good quality, with a trimmed brown tunic clinging to his torso. His pants fit nicely, with a neat seam down the sides in just a slightly darker tan than the rest of the material. His boots are fairly new, barely scuffed at all.
He wears a knot on his shoulder, indicating him to be a brownrider at Fort Weyr.


Tyrnal came into the world without much fanfare. Born within a small group of holdless wanderers and petty thieves, he grew up in a world in which one had to fight to survive. Despite their group, none of its members really had much love for each other, and as a young boy he learned to grab what he wanted and make off with it as fast as he could. The band he belonged to stayed mostly in the north, traveling along the very edge of the northern Barrier mountains. It was a harsh climate, particularly in winter, but in the end it always brought them around to Bitra, a perfect place to make off with a good amount of marks.
Unfortunately, they were by no means a perfect band of thieves. Many times they were caught, and had to flee Hold guards. One such time occurred when Tyrnal was just turning fifteen. Too many guards came too soon, and his group scattered. Not knowing where the rest of his family ended up, Tyrnal continued on, soon finding another group to assimilate into.
Unluckily for him, the group he joined up with was in the process of infiltrating into Fort Weyr. In the process, he was captured and held as a prisoner of the Weyr. Bound in chains, he worked doing things he was told, until the Weyrleader's dragon thought him good enough to be searched.
Much to his and the Weyr's surprise, he ended up walking off the sands with a dragon of his own, brown Raphaith. And so the thieving renegade has become a dragonrider of Fort.


Name Relation Location Position
Nierana Mother Traveling Renegade
Tylmor Father Traveling Renegade
Br'yn Adoptive Father Fort Weyr Bronzerider


As the World Falls Down Green 'Jail'
An even, morderate green begins at this lithe flit's snout. As it moves up her head, it darkens without warning to a deep forest color that masks her eyeridges and begins along the bridge of her nose. Her headknobs lighten on their front sides with a feathery pattern, and this same pattern and hue reaches down her neck and back from her face. She is thin yet strong in her build, with light green moving up her chest over her shoulders to drape her body in jade silk. It's highlighted by near-white neckridges and a V-shaped swath on her belly. Her forearms are the same medium green as her snout, neck, and wings, tipped with black talons. Her back legs follow this as well, but her feet dip darker to near black.

Unlikely Hero Bronze 'Break'
Pudgy, squat, and irritable. That's what this pale bronze looks like more than anything. His eyeridges aren't just big, they look as if they'd like to flare out in spikes. Dark green-brown blotches sit over his hide like age spots. His feet are large, the toes blunted, and his head is a little mismatched to the rest of him for the same reasons. His wings are wide and long, comically huge compared to his short length. Around his chest is a distinctly orange-tinted color of bronze. His roly-poly barrel and plump hips are a darker bronze touched with brown. Even his pale bronze nose looks oversized!


Comforting Notes of Glory Brown Raphaith
Aerodynamically perfect, this brown dragon has a sleek sort of grace about him. Rich, burnt caramel sweeps up the sides of his face and up over his his eyeridges and slightly pointed headknobs. Beneathe this is a warm, orange tinted brown that colors the top of his head and slides down his neck to his back to cover his legs and tail. Even his wing spars are dipped in the honey like color. His massive wing sails carry a cloudy milk color, or maybe klah with too much cream in it, and soft swirls can be made out when the light is shining through them. All along his underside, extending from his chin to the tip of his tail, is a nice cream color, like cookie batter that's just been mixed with the tiniest bit of cocao. If one looks cloesly enough, slight swirls of deep brown can just be made out. Each razor sharp talon is dipped in that same burnt caramel that flares over his face.