G'ram's Knavish Bandit King Brown Fantorith

Clutching Pose

Tiareth, tired now, nay, /exhausted/, sinks still lower into the Sands. She breathes low and slow, her great empty sides heaving now from the many long hours laying eggs. She looks for her Nuff, finding the little Weyrwoman toddling up to lay a hand on her warm nose. They stand like that for sometime time, nothing in the world but each other, and then Tiareth pushes out the last two eggs.

Ocean Sunrise Egg

Lavender mists roll across a calm surface of golden liquid while a contrast of dark violet clouds appear towards the edge of the egg. Bursts of golden light engulf random patches of purple haze, all reflected upon the watery surface with a painter’s impressionistic touch. A lonely streak of brilliant white gold fires directly towards the center of this ovoid to split it into two resplendent halves of colour. Ripples of rose and red-orange glimmer across oceanic-blue, flaring out from a lone star of white positioned directly in the center of the horizon to bring forth dawn in dramatic fashion.

Hatching Message

Ocean Sunrise Egg abruptly falls still. For mere seconds it sits motionless, before the shakes and shudders return — intensified. The dramatic colors of the shell seem to ripple across the egg, as black cracks appear along the dividing line circling the mid-section. At long last, the shell splits itself in two even halves. From between the two dazzling segments, a boxed brown muzzle dawns amidst sea-colored shards.

Knavish Bandit King Brown Dragonet

Muscular and ragged, sinews of hazel roam the lonely landscape of this brown's high-rising ridges and swarthy barreled chest, a contrast to thick 'spars and 'sails ripped in wild umber zigzags. Gathered beneath farflung, bourbon-drenched wings, hind legs are compact twists of brawny muscle and thick bone, reaching down to dusty talons while his tail coils in merciless potency. Bull-necked, thick muscles strain recklessly against tight-clad hide, sweating rakish streaks of ginger that delineate a powerful jawline. Headknobs lightened with further veins of ginger lead into a boxed snout, flanked by hollowed cheeks stubble-burned with dun; the same tint flirts over his dashing features to leave only his expressive eyes illuminated in pale sandstone.

Public Impression Pose

Knavish Bandit King Brown Dragonet wiggles excitedly a bit longer, sparing a glance for his gold sister's Impression, then apparently loses interest in the sandal. Suddenly dropping the prize in the sand, he edges forward again, more slowly and deliberately. Wait a second. What was that? The brown sniffs once, and flares his wings in excitement. This is it! Frederin is completely forgotten, and the brown pounces forward, ending up in an excitedly twitching lump at Graiham's feet.

Private Impression Message

Testing. Weighing. Measuring. A strong presence suddenly infiltrates your mind, sifting swiftly through your memories and examining deepest thoughts one by one. After what seems like an eternity, a lilting voice echoes excitedly throughout your head. « You will do. You will do nicely, » the voice pronounces. Without a second thought, the presence settles in, flooding your entire body with a sense of intense loyalty and passionate love. « I need you like you need me. We will do well together. G'ram and Fantorith. Bada Bing, Bada Boom. »

Graiham! G'ram! Welcome to the wild ride of 'Reaches riderhood! We adored you during Candidacy, and much to the dismay of many, many Healers, we just couldn't let you go. Besides, we can always use more men around the Weyr. But seriously, we're thrilled to have you here with us, and we hope you enjoy Fantorith as much as we've enjoyed you!

Egg Inspiration

This egg was actually themed off a random picture I saw while surfing the net. It was this stunningly beautiful ocean, just after the sun had risen, with purple clouds coasting above in the sky and the water touched by this beautiful golden color. Absolutely to die for. — Syra

Theme Inspiration

You mentioned in your Candidate Questionnaire that you liked TV shows like ER, The Sopranos, and Six Feet Under. And while we were tempted to give you a Black Death Brown, we thought The Sopranos was probably our best bet. So the idea of a Tony Sopranoth began to take shape.

As we thought about the dragon more, the more we wanted to include Kerouac and On the Road, because we know how much you love him. And so the wheels started turning again. And thus, Dean entered the picture.

It may seem like a slightly strange combination - serious mobster Tony and the "holy goof" conman Dean - but we think it meshed together quite nicely in the end.

As for his dragonet theme - Knavish Bandit King Brown Fantorith - we thought Bandit King was about as close to ‘Mob Boss’ as the Medieval ages got. And… well, ‘knavish’ is just a really cool word (just be glad Auri didn’t get her way, or he’d have been Woodlands Bandit King Brown Fantorith).

Description Inspiration

"…the sight of his suffering bony face with the long sideburns and his straining muscular sweating neck…"
-On the Road

Fantorith IS Dean and Tony, smooshed together into dragon-form. From Dean’s sideburns to Tony’s barrel chest, he embodies the combination of both roguish characters. Perhaps a bit more on the strong and sturdy side than Dean, he carries the conman’s more flamboyant side in the wild streaks of umber across his wingsails, and the tints of golden bourbon that color his wings

Name Inspiration

Take your right hand. Bunch your fingers so that all the fingertips are touching, then kiss them, opening your hand again and splaying your fingers. Now say the name. Fantorith. Fahn-Tore-Ith. Accent on the Tore. Say it in a goofy fake Italian accent if necessary.

The name Fantorith originates from the Italian words Furfante (meaning rascal, scoundrel, knave) and Rapinatore (bandit). We thought Italian would be especially appropriate since, well, Fantorith is partly based off the Sopranos, and they're quite Italian.

Some cute nicknames we suggest are Fanto, Tori, or Big F (our personal favorite), but you're free to come up with your own!


"…always looking down, nodding, like young boxer to instructions, to make you think he was listening to every word, throwing in a thousand 'yeses' and 'that's rights'."
-On the Road

He speaks like a real hipster, always "dig that cat", "check that gone chick", calls everyone slim or buddy, or alternately, darling, lovely. His voice is a hearty slap on the back, garbled and unique, he slurs his words together inventing his own new brand of slang punctuated frequently with ‘whees’ and ‘yeses’ and ‘y’knows’. His voice is the rumble of a city street at night, the thrum of a really slick old Chevy when you start the engine, deep and rumbly, but with a slightly nasal whine to it. Fantorith combines the mannerisms of Dean Moriarty with that of an old-school mob boss from the 20s, so his words are full of jazz and rhythm, crazy rat-tat-tat of drums and brassy trumpets sounding off against the corners of your mind.

He talks at a rapid pace, chattering so quickly that his words and sentences slam into each other like car crashes or fist fights. And he's not beyond startling you to get your attention either, firing off statements like gunshots to command your interest.

As he speaks, smoke floats from the dark and shadowed corners of his consciousness. His scent is of cigars and bourbon and gunpowder, his mind sometimes a bit like the inside of a strip club (like Bada Bing), though not so much naked ladies as the shady and romantically sleazy, images of neon signs and lighter flames exploding the darkness.


Fantorith is big. He’s solidly built, like Tony, but more trim than the Soprano. This isn’t to say he’s any less muscular. Every inch of his body is thick and muscular, from the tip of his tail down to his large paws. His legs and haunches are especially buff, obvious in their muscle mass, and Fantorith loves to flex them and make the ladies swoon. His neck is a bit shorter than most, toned and lined with sinew. Lucky for you, Fantorith is one of those dragons that needs less oiling than the typical dragon. He's got a natural luster and sheen to his hide that only occasionally needs your aid. The only exception to this are the light streaks of ginger than line his headknobs and jawline. Those will require constant scratching, and a more frequent oiling.

From the beginning, Fantorith will be cocky and sure of himself. As he grows, he may occasionally find himself stumbling in flight as he suddenly realizes that his wings are bigger than he expected, or his tail is longer than he remembered. But he’ll recover quickly, with his usual recklessness, denying that it ever happened.

« I did not stumble! That was a new trick I was trying out! »

Any clumsiness Fantorith experiences is easily mistaken for his usual carelessness and wildness, and he’ll always insist that it was never really clumsiness at all - making it hard for even you to really know what was a crazy, spontaneous maneuver, and what was a moment of awkwardness. During the Weyrling years, Fantorith will mature more quickly than other dragons. While the other weyrlings are still adolescent and awkward looking, the Big F will be looking mature and handsome.


He was simply a youth tremendously excited with life, and though he was a con-man, he was only conning because he wanted so much to live and to get involved with people who would otherwise pay no attention to him. He was conning me and I knew it, and he knew I knew, but I didn't care, and we got along fine."
-On the Road

Like the properly knavish bandit king he is, Fantorith is often seized by fierce, vivid urges, and more often than not uses rather shady methods to get what he wants. He lies, and he cheats, and he cons people and manipulates people like Tony, but he’s never malicious, just a bit sneaky or disingenuous. And in the end, he’s so inexplicably lovable that everyone forgives him for it anyways. He’s desperately good at getting what he wants from life, whether it may be from a fellow Weyrling, an older dragon, or from you.

You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?
-"Like a Rolling Stone", Bob Dylan

Yeah, your big brown mystery tramp has the capacity to wind even you around his draconic pinky. Even if you’ve firmly stated that you won’t oil him until you’re done studying formations, he’s just charming enough and slick enough to make you do it anyways.

Just as easily, though, Fantorith falls victim to his own desires and wants. He’s a sucker for gorging on food and oh, how he loves the ladies. In fact, sometimes he barely seems in control of his own wild passions. They’re fickle and fleeting. One day he’ll be full of « Oh Aibhlusaith, Aibhlusaith, Aibhlusaith. What a doll, what a gone babe, what a miracle! » and by that same evening, he’ll be mooning over « Chisth, oh Faranth, have you seen the honey-sweet /hindlegs/ on that one? »

You’ll have to watch what he eats, because he’ll overeat if you’re not paying attention, and perhaps when preparing for Thread, even overstock on the firestone. He gets carried away, but that’ll be your one leverage over him, tempting him with meat or with the approval of a female, or with the promise of a long midnight ride with him to Tillek and back.

Your Fantorith will have no problems becoming the leader, or "il capo" of the gang. He’s naturally magnetizing to everyone around him, human or dragon, perhaps because of the casual older brother manner about him that's so enjoyable; he’s always joking around and making you feel like a crucial, intimate part of his group, his mob. Even if you’ve met him just moments ago, hey! You’re family! And he’s full of giddy moments, goofy moments, crazy and hilarious. Maybe that’s what’s so damn attractive about him: his fantastic intensity, his hyperbolic mirth.

"He watched over my shoulder as I wrote stories, yelling ‘Yes! That’s right! Wow! Man!’ and ‘Phew!’ and wiped his face with his handkerchief."
-On the Road

Fantorith’s dedication and devotion to you is undeniable. He is your staunchest supporter in anything you chose to do, and he’ll cheer you on as you do it. « That’s right G’ram, wow! You are a master with that needle and thread! Man! You make the best straps in the Weyr! » Such will be the running stream of commentary in the back of your mind as you practice mending straps during Weyrlinghood, or « Quick! That’s it! M’lir and Oirfeath have done /way/ less than you! » while you sack firestone. Fantorith will take an interest in what you are interested in: « Great physical, G’ram. Great. You were amazing in there. Amazing! »

"They danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the one who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everyone goes 'aww!'"
-On the Road

Above all, Fantorith loves people, and he loves life. He appreciates every grain of sand in the bowl, every spire in the peaks of the ‘Reaches, every hair on your head, every patch of skin on Yajisarath’s lovely little tail. He’s very verbal about his love, babbling about the wonders of everything he encounters on a constant basis. In fact, he loves life so much, he virtually never goes to bed, stays up late plotting or running around alone or partying. He’s frantic to live, like every day is his last and he has to consume all of it, taste it all and fall in love infinite times within the span of an hour.

It’s perhaps this attitude that makes him fly like a crazy person. He loves flying, insists you do it all the time, taking long road trips to faraway locales just to scope out the girls and the scenery. He flies like Dean drives, terrifying any passengers (besides you, who knows he's in control), dipping and diving and jiving when he shouldn't be, but always real coooool…

…except when he gets angry.

"There's an old Italian saying: you fuck up once, you lose 2 teeth."
-Tony Soprano

Just as he gets carried away blooding, just as he gets carried away flying, he gets carried away when he’s angry. Because Fantorith doesn’t let anybody get in his face, especially not his rider’s face. Here his mobster traits really show. He can get violent and impulsive, and downright scary at times when he gets upset. His voice is a growl, his remarks cutting and ruthless. He’s just a passionate dragon in general, and part of that happens to include a temper;

Tony: I was proud to be Johnny Soprano's kid. When he beat the shit outta that guy, I went to the class. I told them how tough my father was.
Melfi: Do you think that's how your son feels about you?
Tony: Yeah, probably. And I'm glad, I'm glad he's proud of me. But that's the bind I'm in, 'cause I don't want him to be like me.
-The Sopranos

After the wild storm of his rage though, he fills with remorse, and you’ll have to comfort the poor dear. This is the one terribly sorrowful element to him — he's so incredibly proud of you, and he's completely devoted to you, loyal as a man to his capo, yet he's very aware of all his little quirks and faults and feels like you, ideal, heavenly, PERFECT G'ram, deserve something better. When he is in one of these self-pitying states, you’ll know it. Just as Tony goes to Melfi when he needs to talk, Fantorith will go to you. G’ram may like to keep his secrets and problems to himself, but Fantorith needs to talk about things. NOW. It’s convenient, then, that G’ram is a mindhealer. So when Fantorith loses Nissionath’s flight, he’ll drag his wounded pride and bruised self-esteem home to you. « She hates me, G’ram, the darling hates me, » he’ll tell you miserably, waiting for you to analyze the situation and tell him what to do.

Luckily for you, his mercurial temperament will have you finding him rolling around in the meadows in a state of bliss soon enough. « Oh this is pure, G’ram, this is beautiful. Look at the sky, look at us, aren’t we just lovely, aren’t we just transcendent? Vespurath took back the comment about me looking like a cooked ‘beast with wings, isn’t she beautiful? »


Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
-"Like a Rolling Stone", Bob Dylan

Fantorith is a charmer and a ladies man, which hardly comes as a surprise when his inspiration is Dean and Tony. He’s a smooth talker any time of day, but when it comes to flights he knows how to sweet-talk the ladies. He’ll flatter them left and right, slowly winning their affections. At least, Fantorith /thinks/ he is winning their affections. He has complete confidence in his ability to win a flight, every time. No matter if he’s lost the past four he’s been in, /this/ time he’ll win. He can just FEEL it.

Flights are when Fantorith’s wild flying and cross-country trips pay off. The boy’s got /moves/. While he’s certainly not as agile as the average blue, his tricks in the air surpass most other browns. And between his large and muscled build and the endurance he’s built up as a result of his marathon flights to Tillek and back, Fantorith can easily rival some of the smaller bronzes when it comes to going the distance.

Tony: Carm, you're not just in my life. You are my life.
-The Sopranos

Fantorith is flighty when it comes to females - easy come, easy go. One minute Miravith will be the girl of his dreams, and the next he’s moved on to someone completely different. He’s a heartbreaker, there’s no doubt about it. Even if G’ram weyrmates a greenrider, Fantorith will be unlikely to stay faithful to that one green. Despite all the sweet-talking and promises Fantorith will make to the girl of the moment, most are there one day and gone the next.


Name: Auri, Zai
Egg Desc: Syra; Fyria tweak
Dragonet Desc: Auri; Zai and Co tweak
Messages: Zai
Puppeteer: Zai
Inspiration: Auri, Zai, Tatia

Zana (Zorana) and blue Braezyth, Nylca and green Laeth, C'ela (Enceladus) and bronze Ejotzeth, Sein (Seilyn) and green Aibhlusaith, Marina and green Chisth, Larna (Larnat) and brown Rashkecharath, Vaeli (Vaedelle) and gold Nissionath, M'lir (Myliren) and bronze Oirfeath, D'ean (Goldean) and green Iztenith, and Tye (Laytai) and blue Valedath

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License