Built strong and long, this brown is a giant amongst browns. Burly as he is, his mien is surprisingly lean and somber. A tapered snout, elegantly sculpted headknobs, and wide set eye-ridges give him a look of wisdom beyond his turns. His belly and chest are a myriad of woody brown shades crisscrossing and accented with subtle rings, lines, and jagged slivers of shadow separating one tint from the next. Across his gut, there is a line of uneven hide, as though scarred by Thread, though he is certainly too young to know the menace. Edging from back to front, the softer oaks, maples, and deep mahogany, char to a homogeneous and burnt melanic brown that's corrupted in spots with smears of ashen grey-brown. From the surrounding darkness of the dragon's back, amber fire sparks along his spine, sending tongues of flame licking down to tail-tip and up to cover his headknobs, his near-black face crowned in flame. Dying embers of amber sparkle across wingspars, strewn across a smoky brown that's distorted, as if wrung through a heat haze. The coloring on his tail is obscured in much the same manner, while the tips are adorned with a twist of burnished bronze, chain links hinted at and mirrored again on his mighty limbs. There, the chain-pattern is warped, as if the dragon wrenched himself from that which sought to imprison so powerful a beast.


The light in the dark when all other lights go out. Mneoraeth is a rock, an anchor, an unerring compass. He is a force of wisdom, altruism, and steadfast passion. His actions are almost always the most prudent choice, though caution will be thrown to the wind if the right thing to do and what is good for him (and by extension you) are at odds. But, for as predictable a soul as he may seem to be, there is a depth and breadth to him that will never fully be explored. Even a steady fire has knots that pop and embers that flare when turned and he is no exception.

Even when he is first shelled, and in his early turns, Mneoraeth will possess wisdom beyond his turns. He is quite self-possessed, and humble. All of these things are far from typical for the average energetic young dragon. It's not that your Mneoraeth is not energetic, because he is in his own way, it's just that his energy doesn't spike and fall like most of his clutchsiblings. He exerts steady focus on the task at hand, not wasting effort where none needs to be spent. His has an energy that builds when fed by your passion and interest, igniting his drive into an unstoppable and fervent force that may inspire those around him to equal his zeal. When things don't interest you, however, you will find him encouraging you to pay attention, for it may be important for you both to know this someday. « After all, X'dis, if we do not know what the rules are, how can we accurately interpret them? »

Accuracy is the name of the game. He is not the stand-out weyrling, but neither is he the bottom of the stack and he works to do things *correctly* even when a simple tweak would be easier and flashier. He is brave, when necessary, a voice of reason, when needed, and a warning when he sees things about to get out of hand or go awry. He is serious for a dragon, but he has his own odd sense of humor that seems to surface most in plays on words, puns and the like. He'll also get a kick out of when others misspeak, being the type to snicker in his head and explain the humor to you. Snort, giggle, snort. « It's funny because the Journeyman said he was conscience when he meant conscious. » You may not see the humor, but he'll point it out to you anyway and have a good laugh on his own. He has a fantastic laugh that, for all his typical sobriety, is never afraid to bubble to the surface. Its deep, jolly, and full. He will often find amusement in the antics of his lively clutchsiblings, because, really, as long as it's not hurting anyone, where's the harm in having a good time?

As Mneoraeth matures, he will only gain in insight, especially insight into you. He's always possessed a keen sense of how the world works and why it works that way, but you were the new puzzle to him. Complex though you might be, Mneoraeth was a quick learner and has you sorted out. He is the best one to go to when wrestling with a problem, for he will see your true motives even when you don't see, or want to acknowledge, them. He is truthful to a fault, telling you things you'd rather not hear if that's what he thinks is best. He will continue to be the same mentoring, calming influence he has always been, but he will have learned that you need space to live your own life, despite his being a core element of that life. No longer will you hear cautions every time you're making a choice you might regret, « If you never make mistakes for yourself, how ever will you learn? »

Philosophy is a key element of your dragon. Mneoraeth has a unique perspective on life that is built on - well, perspective. He is ethical to an extreme, but ethical according to his unique perspective. It is a perspective that places the benefit of the group over any singular, selfish interest. This makes him an ideal wingmate, and this combined with his wisdom would easily lend him to leadership or weyrling training should you desire to purse those paths. He believes fiercely in helping those who need it, to the point that the rules can be bucked if, in his perspective, it right to do so. Unless you'd rather otherwise, he might favor placement in Thunderbird Wing where he can help those in greatest need. He wouldn't object to other wing placements though, because, from where he sits, everyone has needs, it's just a matter of figuring out what they are and how to fulfill them.

Mneoraeth has never struggled with confidence. It isn't cockiness, but rather that he simply has a very strong sense of the way things are, how they should be, and how he (and you) fit into that framework. This confidence might ultimately rub off on you, for he will be your biggest supporter when you are firm on your course. Once the decision is made (and he will contentedly discuss and debate any topic with you to your heart's content), in his mind, the only step left to take is action. The hard part is making the decision, from where he stands, and the action is simply follow-through. "Easier said than done," is one of the few phrases and saying that has ever truly baffled him. If you have decided, then you simply do. There is no try, and therefore no reason for failure.

Mneorath is very constant, but that does not mean that he doesn't have an off day. Off days are infrequent, but quite bizarre by comparison to his usual temperament. The inner flame you feel from him will seem somehow "wrong," whether this comes across to you as not as warming as it normally is, or the smoke in his mental presence coming off as choking more than comforting. Bad moods manifest in an increase of flame and make him feel selfish, which only makes him feel worse, since, in his book, being selfish is just about as bad as it could get. His physicality changes too. Where usually the reams of muscle on his body move as effortlessly as they do on a dancer, on bad/sad/mad days, he just droops and drags, as though he can't summon the effort to make it look effortless.

Flights ignite his primal passion. It is not a part of himself that he is entirely comfortable with because it only surfaces for flights, but at the same time, he logically knows that it is the most natural thing in the world to feel desire for a green or gold when she glows. The hardest moments are those just before and just after a flight when he's transitioning from even-tempered and well-cultured dragon to primal beast (and back). But once blooding has begun, he operates on instinct alone. The urge is to rise, chase, catch, and he will do his best to do just those things. Violence is in the nature of the primal beast, and so he can't help that he might do damage to one of his fellow suitors when under lust's spell, though he always suffers some guilt (less if he catches) after the fact for having selfishly sought the beauty for his own and injured another in the process. Flames will rise to almost unbearable temperatures, and the only relief is found in twining tails or taking a cold dip in the lake while the winner is enjoying the fruits of his effort.

As for follow-through, should he catch a green, morning-afters are almost painful. Rid of the mental blur that desire provokes in him, he's— well, awkward, poor thing. Mneoraeth just doesn't know how to woo, or even make flirtatious chit-chat. The flirtation is lost on him. So he'll try to make a mental connection, and there's decidedly regrets if the green or gold proves to be less than a mental match for his big brain. Should he catch a gold and sire a clutch, he'll be the bumbling, uncertain parent - at least the first time (and the second mightn't be much better). It's simply a position he never expected to find himself in. He's not a particularly attentive parent for that reason, not without you urging him to spend more time on the sands or with the gold (if that's what you want him to do), because the eggs— well, they're just eggs! He's convinced he's going to break them as soon as look at them, and that would incur the wrath of the gold and— from his all-important perspective, that's just a road he doesn't want to travel down (not that his lust-blinded brain gives him any choice in the matter of whether or not he starts down it).

You would think that a smart brown like this would be perfectly content to function mostly on his own, but it simply isn't so. Mneoraeth sees the completion of himself in his partnership with you. He is not the highly emotional sort, but if ever the need arises, he will gladly tell you that you mean the world to him and that a world without you in it, « It simply wouldn't make any sense. » He likes to think of your partnership as equal, though in truth of fact he may be mentoring you more than you he. He is, however, always happy to learn from you as well. He has purpose, vision, and the determination to get things done, and you are the lens through which he finds his focus.

Pragmatic, serene, and clever, your Mneoraeth is a guiding light. He is a hero out of necessity, a force to be reckoned with in the face of absurdity. The idea of you living without him or he without you is absurd, and thus he is determined to forever-more be part of your life, to warm, counsel, and ultimately share the world and all it has to offer with you.


Defiance In The Face Of Reason

Mneoraeth's mind is as inviting as a seat by a warm fire on the dreariest day. The smooth scent of various fragrant woods burning mingle in his mindtouch. Most times, the smoke is simply a byproduct of the main features of the brown's mind: warmth and flickering flame. All three knit together to create a touch that is, more often than not, one designed to instill the recipient with a sense of calm, and relaxation. « For what is there to fear when there is light and warmth to be shared amongst us? » Such pearls of wisdom are delivered in a baritone that brokers no argument. He deals with all minds equally, flame flickering in a steady friendly manner. That fire is constant and most often set against darker backdrops so its shifting brilliance through shades of red, yellow, orange, and even occasionally the rest of the rainbow, can be better appreciated. There is also the consistent crackle of logs, popping reassuringly in the background. Generally fairly tacit, he is the type to say something when something needs to be said, but is no stranger to silence. In sleep, the sounds dull to hisses of low-burning wood, and the flame mutes to embers, but it is still there. It never fades completely. In moments of great sadness, it may seem distant, but never gone for it is the unstoppable flame of hope that will forever flicker in Mneoraeth's mind and heart 'til his last breath has left his lungs. In rare moments of anger, the flame roars, uncontrolled and terrifying. Woe to the creature that earns such wrath from Mneoraeth, for they shall feel the uncomfortable heat of a fire too hot, and perhaps be singed enough to remember not to make that mistake twice.

Egg Name and Description

Legendary Long Shot Egg


This egg is on the larger side of big, though without the usual sheen to imply what it might contain. No, it's a mass of dark color, of blotched brown and red and black to sketch out some impossibly huge thing that even the oversized egg cannot display the entirety of. A flash of flesh, a shimmer of silver — that might be the hint of a mighty arm, the glint of armor just out of reach. The figure is towering against a broken sky of charcoal and bruised purple, with no hint of head nor legs in sight … and, there, at the bottom, is a pale smear of a thing. White with a twist of red, a coppery glint to mark what might well be arms on a would-be hero, locked forever in a stand off of epic proportions.

Hatching Message

The Legendary Long Shot Egg is patient. It has waited the necessary months needed to go from dream to dragonet, it can wait some while longer. While eggs shatter and pop hatchlings into being around it, it is a point of utter calm in the ensuing chaos. This egg is so still that it might be starting to raise some concern about whether or not life still exists within the shell. As though to allay any such fears, the shell of the egg finally shivers slightly. It is the barest of movements that might easily be missed. To further proof of life, in case the first subtle moves were missed, from the egg there comes a slow and steady -tap tap tap- beat -tap tap tap-.

-Tap tap tap- pause -tap tap tap- pause. The rhythmic sounds have yet to falter or change pace. It's a simple repetitive sound from the Legendary Long Shot Egg. As moments pass, the dedication of the hatchling within begins to pay off. Hairline fractures begin to stretch across the surface from a stress point, where only the closest could identify as the focal point of the tapping from within. The breaks skitter out from the top of the egg, spiraling and intersecting like a gossamer spinner working over-time at an impossible pace. The cracks stand out against the dark surface of the shell, unmistakable as signs that the hatchling in the Legendary Long Shot Egg is about to make its move.

The crack-ridden dark shell of the Legendary Long Shot Egg has reached its breaking point. Talon-tips poke through the top of the egg, at the epicenter for the tapping and subsequent tiny tremors. The tips are smothered in goo and useless for telling the color of the hatchling within. The waiting on-lookers will have to be patient a moment longer. This dragonet seems to have its own way of doing things, and so it is that the tapping resumes, this time in pairs, and the focal point of the sound shifts around here and there on the egg. Shell explodes outwards as wings burst forth from the weakened shell, hazy sails unfurling, and the rest of the Face the Fire Brown Hatchling rises out of the remains of the egg, goo glopping off his limbs.

There is a long moment in which Face the Fire Brown Hatchling contemplates this world he has been birthed into. Shrewd gaze sweeps across the wreckage of shells and dwindling sea of humanity in white robes that surrounds the demolition area. This is it then, is it? He seems to question it only for a moment and then acceptance is quickly embraced and he squares himself, as though preparing to take it on. Well, perhaps not the whole world just yet, after all, there is this first innate task to be done. He takes a further moment to compose himself, flicking bits of shell away from his egg-gooped form and — well, while he's at it, some of that goop should go too. It's not a vain motion, he does this for practicality's sake. What's the point of stepping onto sands if you're only going to gather it as you plod across the sands until you are no longer walking on your own feet but tottering on stilts of shifting sand? Hardly seems the prudent choice for stable first steps.

Face the Fire Brown Hatchling is in no rush, but neither is he lolly-gagging on the sands. The first task is now complete: he is freed of his goop and set to start his journey out of the remnants of his shell. Even his first few steps are certain, each placed with careful purpose as he moves away from the mound of sand and towards the remaining candidates. His bejeweled gaze whirls at a calm and steady pace as he surveys them from a distance. His course is maintained and his manner sedate as he arrives near a trio, scrutinizing each in turn. He clasps his front claws together, and the hide on his brow-ridges wrinkles slightly. It seems the one he's seeking isn't amongst this lot, and so it is onto the next with measured steps.

Yet another pair of candidates is passed over, though this doesn't seem to faze the brown. The one he's seeking is there, it's only a matter of time, and though there is a sense of urgency to his movements, it is not hurried or chaotic. Face the Fire Brown Hatchling pauses abruptly, head swinging to regard the last few candidates ahead. Interest is piqued, and his steps hasten ever so slightly. The connection is made before the brown has even arrived. He settles back on his haunches in front of a thin grey-eyed candidate with messy black hair, his form relaxed, a look of repose upon him. The task is accomplished, and a bugle announces it so as impression is made.


Impression Message

Dark. The lights, sights, and sounds of the cavern vanish abruptly. Time loses meaning, and eternity seems to have arrived - stretched out before you, with no light, no hope, just dark. Dark and cold, you now realize. Cold that bleeds into your bones and coaxes avian pimples onto your extremities. Then suddenly there is a flicker. Like flint struck on stone, a shower of sparks shiver into existence in the air before you. « X'dis, » The warming baritone is like a welcomed breath of spring air. It sounds mildly surprised, but adjusts quickly enough. Spark, spark, flame! The sparkles suddenly blaze into confident fire. It starts small, then grows, and grows, so large that it seems you are to be swallowed up and burnt by its brilliance and heat. Like a moth to a flame, you cannot resist it. At the moment that you fear consumption means destruction, the burgeoning blaze licks you with a warming tickle that drives away the dark and the cold. Before you on the hatching grounds sits the source of the fire now forever melded with your mind, « Mneoraeth. » It's enough of an introduction and he doesn't seem the need to fill the silence with useless chatter. There is, however, a matter of growing importance. His flame leaps and homey scent of burning wood, with just tendril of choking smoke blown faceward to ensure your attention to the importance of this. « I am hungry. Now that you are found, I suspect you can feel as much. » And indeed, your stomach does share the pangs of hunger your newly hatched lifemate is experiencing. « Let us do something about this problem, not in haste, but simply, » He contemplates his choice of wording for a moment, « With a sense of urgency. » The phrase appears in your mind for a heartbeat before it's burnt into nothingness, the suggestion carrying enough weight that the brown doesn't think it bears repeating.

Clutch Siblings

Bronze Oszarioth Impressed to Sh'koi (Shakoi)
Brown Cikitsakath Impressed to Yhri (Jayashri)
Brown Iqsath Impressed to Polsie
Green Ronareoth Impressed to Melze
Green Sohnyuoth Impressed to Miki


Legendary Long Shot Egg - This cycle's theme for eggs centered around various tropes in movies, books and video games — among other entertainment forms. For this one, it was "You just punched Cthulhu in the face" — a fairly common one in most roleplaying video games, in which the main characters (usually plucky upstarts and underdogs) eventually go on to kill the ultimate big-bad that no one has ever been able to touch (usually despite everyone knowing its weakness, go figure!). The primary inspiration of the imagery on the egg was derived from the "God of War" game series, specifically the first one — with Kratos initially laying eyes on Ares as he lays waste to Athens. That game in particular is very much a deity-punching extravaganza — Kratos is a one-man god-punching party, driven less by logic and more by anger and vengeance. The mind touches were a bit more general, touching less on that particular game and fixed more on those moments before the nasty and encroaching thing of shapeless design is able to lay waste to the world. In that regard, it calls somewhat upon a fair number of Greek myths … and maybe a little imagery from "Clash of the Titans", in which Perseus must destroy the Kraken with little more than a flying horse and a Medusa's head. "Damn the gods" was the tagline for the remake … and that might well have been the mindvoice name, if it weren't for canon. Sure, there's a hint of Deus Ex Machina for the destructive device, but, for the most part, it's the individual's grit and perseverance, their very defiance, that sees them through to the end.

Hatchling name: "Face the Fire", is the title of a song by Dan Fogelberg. It's true that the song itself is actually more about environmental pollution than about defying all odds to accomplish an impossibly huge task. But the last two lines of the chorus seemed to resonate with this dragon — "The waiting's over, the moment has come / To kill the fire and turn to the sun". Fogelberg meant to stop using generators that burned things and made toxic byproducts, and use solar energy instead, but the words themselves can be applied here — "facing the fire" can also mean to deal with an unpleasant task, or a very big problem, or even to own up to one's own mistakes and/or shortcomings.

Dragon Personality, mind voice, et al.: Your Mneoraeth is based primarily upon the character Prometheus from Greek mythology. In brief, Prometheus was a Titan. Wikipedia does a good job of summing it up with the following: ( here ) "He was a champion of mankind, known for his wily intelligence, who stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mortals. Zeus then punished him for his crime by having him bound to a rock while a great eagle ate his liver every day only to have it grow back to be eaten again the next day." Lumped with this intelligent, altruistic hero is also the concept of Greek philosophers to give him some added wisdom and flavor (the movie Agora was referenced by a writer). His mindvoice was inspired by the gift that Prometheus provided to humanity: fire. Prometheus ties into our clutch theme (television/movie/literature tropes/cliches) in several ways, being credited with "Information Wants to Be Free," and "Dude in Distress," to name some. Mneoraeth was made with the best of intentions for you to maximize your enjoyment of RPing life as a dragonrider, but everything here is just a suggestion. Feel free to add/edit/toss anything that doesn't fit with your vision for what you want in a lifemate - you having fun is our top priority. That said, we hope you enjoy him!

Name: Mneoraeth (NEE-oh-rayth) comes from taking Prometheus and Aethon (the name of the great eagle who carried out Prometheus' sentence) and mixing them together. It also took into account your enjoyment of silent letters and double vowels.

Egg: Galina
Dragon: Mar'ko, R'oo, and Galina


Name Face the Fire Brown Mneoraeth
Dam Gold Vidyazath
Sire Bronze Otieneth
Created By Egg: Galina | Dragon: Mar'ko, R'oo, Galina
Impressee X'dis (Xandis)
Hatched April 8 2011
Artwork Mneoraeth by Dracona-fin
Mneoraeth by Cursed-Sight
Fort Weyr
PernWorld MUSH