Jedi's A Twinkling Sense of Foreboding Brown Llioramasith

It’s always been such a large world.

So full of its dark mysteries and looming dangers both faceless and known.


Faded Enlightenment from Below Egg

A mossy- and stone exterior seeks to camouflage what lies within. Gray-green tendrils start at the central underbelly and entwine their way steadily upwards, as if a shield to protect the being within from even the slightest pinprick of Rukbat's rays and keeping the world in eternal darkness. Except, lo, the smallest of openings near the bottom back is a shocking contrast. The fire of the heart burns from within and perhaps manifests itself as a flicker of flame's tongue licking and caressing its way out. Enlightenment can come but from deep within, but only if you have an open mind.

So hard were you, so ready and careful, when you slipped out onto those black sands on stealthy feet, and touched the moss-bound mystery.

It jolts, not a jerk but a shudder through the stony texture of moss-laden stone. Hush, hold your breath, no speaking – once-ovoid shape of egg erupts into legion forms of geometric block, great slabs of brick and stone that rise up, stacking end over end until you are entombed. All around you is oppressive black, sensory deprivation of sight — but not smell. Not touch. Not sound. The air is wet, the smells of moss and subterranean waterways, crystal-clear and bell like where they trickle unseen down rocky walls. You’re compelled to follow, deeper and deeper into the dark, unexplored senses guiding you, feeling the walls through the echo of your feet, you’re blind and inspired and deeply touched. At peace. Your fingertips can see, your ears can feel. When the smell around you shifts to dry parchment paper and treated hide, you know – around you is the library of the ages, the archives to end all archives. But the words – they cannot be touched. Cannot be read in the dark. You arms are full of these hides, grasped desperately, clutched to your chest. In the pitch black, you can touch them, but touch will not give up their secrets. They’re kept from you. Your way is barred. Shudder a sigh, and the touch returns to nothing more than a fine fragile shell and a bit of moss.

But then it touched you back. And it showed you a whole new world of secrets in the dark.

Hatching Message

Faded Enlightenment from Below Egg starts moving. It’s a slow and subtle movement at first. But then,in an indelicate movement, that tiny flicker of color at the egg’s base makes itself known to the world with the egg falling decidedly upon its side. The force of this movement is enough to cause a large crack to split down the dark shell’s side, allowing claws to begin to tear at what is left of the membrane. Illuminated with an inner light, wings and tail follow, and it is with a decidedly fierce growl that a particular brown dragonet spills onto the sands, sending egg shards flying in every which direction.

But now the moss-laden walls have crumbled away…

A Twinkling Sense of Foreboding Brown Dragonet

Glory fades parched into the desert soil, sandy night shadows rippling through brutish muscle in fingerstreak striations, pulsing parallel ribbons of baked-dark, scorched-black and uneven burnt brown in intervals. Short legs of solid conformation withstand the weight of large body, solid chest and stout neck, atop which observes the narrowed eyes and descending march of sheer jagged spires of spine’s backswept 'ridges. His face, strong-jawed and narrow-muzzled, emblazons with whispers of copper heat that fade back from his face until finally lost in the dust-swells of gloom beyond. But woe, to think the darkness won. Look up! To either side, a brilliant glow. Sails unfold to expose twin flashes of searing brilliant daystars, the inner webbing of wings’ housing secret molten gleams of copper-gold, rising up from the heat-shimmer mirages of dark dreams, two eyes opened when expanded in flight, closing once more when gold-tipped talons seize fully upon the ground.

And he emerges, dark and dangerous, this torn wanderer, forever trapped in the shadows, tormented by the pull of hope in a bleak night…

Public Impression Pose

A Twinkling Sense of Forboding Brown Dragonet is hastened by the growing hunger within his belly; his burnt brown haunches rippling as his movements become more deliberate, more calculated, and definitely more frequent. One candidate has caught his eye in particular; and one (and only one) wingsail is half folded so that crocodilian snout can more easily bend down to get a closer look. A girl with golden curls surely is the sign of royalty and power, right? With her busty frame, it should be easy to manipulate the townspeople! And so, the Twinkling Sense of Foreboding Brown Dragonet opens his mouth, whuffing deep breaths down upon her, his serpentine tongue flicking in and out, tasting the air about her for quality assurance (and hopefully not mistaking her for lunch). Yep, that'll do. His half folded wingsail opens,thrusting the light sun in his darkness; curving spars out towards her back to embrace this girl, and lead her from her path directly into his.

And in his wandering, it was YOU he found, at the end of the tunnel.

Private Impression Message

There’s a pause. The world stops. The heat of the sands seems to dissipate. You are left in utter and complete darkness. Your senses seem to heighten in response to this utter and complete blindness. But wait? What is that? Is that a light? A flickering flame seems to burn in the distance, and you can sense another, the keeper of this flame, in waiting. « Jedi. » The voice is dark and low, ringing through your ears and almost shaking your body with its deep bass. « I am Llioramasith. » The flame flickers brighter, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, burning so hot it threatens to engulf you in its wake. « We have much to do. Do not fail me. » There is almost a laugh, a kind of sneer that follows, before the light simply.. goes.. out. And you are left on the sands, staring into the whirling red eyes of your new
lifemate who heaves a deep, resounding mental breath. « Feed me. »

And now he’s made you his own, his light in the dark.

And your life will never be the same.

Jediiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Did you think you’d get away from us? You impressed SearchCo with your roleplay and amusing character antics, and now you’re here to stay! Llioramasith, a creature of light and darkness, is your personal playground to explore Jedi’s inner self in the coming turns — and it will certainly not be easy. We hope that you love your new lifemate just as much as we loved creating him. This inspiration is by no means a ‘how-to’ manual, merely a guide to help you on your journey. We look forward to seeing how you and Llioramasith shape each other in the coming Turns. Welcome to High Reaches! — Tilla, Paige, R’yst


Egg Inspiration

During an apocalypse, sometimes you just have to go underground. That barren landscape seems hopeless until you find the one passageway that leads you to the ruins and enlightenment of the former society from whence you came. There are many examples of this in TV such as the Mutant City in the sewers in Futurama or "Beautopia" in Adventure Time with Finn and Jake. Beautopia appears to be the ruins of a shopping mall, one of mankind's last refuges after what was probably an atomic bomb war (The Mushroom War). It is hinted that the last humans and mutates took refuge there, underground. But you'd never find it if you didn't know exactly where to look. It also helps to light the 'city heart' with a torch if you want to keep away the monsters.


Theme Inspiration

A will-o'-the-wisp or ignis fatuus (Medieval Latin: "foolish fire") is a ghostly light seen by travellers at night, especially over bogs, swamps or marshes. It resembles a flickering lamp and is said to recede if approached, drawing travelers from the safe paths. A folk belief well attested in English folklore and in much of European folklore, the phenomenon is known by a variety of names, including jack-o'-lantern, hinkypunk, hobby lantern in English. Scientifically, "marsh gas" is methane that bubbles out of marshes;this gas is contaminated with phosphine (PH3) and diphosphane (P2H4) which, when brought in contact with air, can spontaneously catch fire. This sudden burst of flame can potentially explain many will-o'-the-wisp sightings.


When trying to come up with a theme inspiration for your light on the edge of darkness brown dragon, we were instantly drawn to the concept of these deceptive little lights that often lead travelers astray. These lights, thought to be the souls of deceased travelers, railroad workers, or something more sinister, were often thought to lead to treasure, if the worthy human was wily enough to survive the little spirits’ tricks. Your Llioramasith is much the same. His light has somewhat of a dark edge to it, while his darkness is constantly tempered with light. One cannot exist within him without the other. He can be a trickster. He can lead you to great riches and rewards. But only one this is for certain, you need each other. For what is a light without someone to view it?

Description Inspiration

There’s so much contrast in the realm of the desert, where the nights are bitter cold and the days burn to an arid dust. It was this that inspired the description for your dark lifemate, specifically the desert planet Tatooine and the complicated dynamic of a night time sandscape just barely grasping towards the barest of hope in a dawn of twin suns.


Name Inspiration

Jedi, you gave us a lot of wiggle room when creating the perfect name for your light in the darkness brown dragon. We played around with a lot of different words and sounds, pulling from Star Wars references to foreign languages. But eventually we settled on a name that carried with it the essence of your dragon. Llioramasith comes from “lior” meaning “my light” in Hebrew, and “rama,” which means “dark” in Indian. When we put it together, it means “my light in the dark” which is exactly the relationship between you and your dragon. As per your request, it also carries some of the L’s of his clutch-parents, and we even threw in an extra one for good measure! It’s a name that rolls off the tongue, both fluid and harsh at the same time. Paige has been pronouncing it LEO-rama-sith, and Tilla has been pronouncing it Lee-oar-Ahma-Sith, but you are welcome to pronounce it anyway you like.



« ……….. inhale… »
« ……..exhale……. »
« ….inhale………… »
« ……………exhale. »

Have you ever felt the sensation of someone breathing down your neck? The gentle chill that shivers down your spin as puffs of air tickle the fine hairs there? This is quintessentially Llioramasith’s resting state. You will have to get used to the fierce intrusion of the brown into your psyche. He will be so present that you will think you can hear him breathing both outside and inside your head. And you would be right. When at a resting state, Llior is a blank and endless void — neither dark nor light, a blank slate where there is just.. breathing. A reminder that he is there. Waiting. Thinking. About what you will not know until he chooses to share it with you, but you /will/ know he is there. This will potentially get to be irksome at times, especially when he is young and unable to control the volume of his projections. Thankfully, or rather.. unfortunately for you, as he gets older, he will become more and more opinionated, and his mindvoice will expand and grow by leaps and bounds, leaving the blank void to quite moments between waking and sleeping and that off moment when he just needs to /be/.

there's something to be said

about the colors in your head

and how they mix to form

the perfect shade of sadness

not because of things i've done

or any of the songs i've sung

it's just the story of our lives

- “All Those Pretty Lights” by Andrew Belle

Llioramasith’s mental landscape is beautiful. There are few dragons on Pern with such a vivid mental playground for you to explore. When he is in a good mood, there are beautiful lakes and dazzling gardens for you to spend your days; illuminated by gentle pinkish-orange skies. It’s there he will wait for you, to regale you with tales of his triumphs, to pepper you with questions, and to simply spend time with you. While not nearly as personally possessive as some other dragons, he will like having a place that is devoted to simply the two of you, and where he feels he can keep you to himself. It is the other landscape which you should be wary of…


Because there is also a very dark side to Llioramasith’s mind. A side he generally attempts to protect you from, by distracting you with sweet smells, gentle lights and intricate details. His dark side is manifested in utter and complete blackness, not unlike a black hole of space. It wills start the size of a pin-prick, but as his indignation grows so too will this darkness, swallowing up the delicate mind-palace he’s erected for you in everlasting night.


When these negative emotions override all else, you will feel the pull yourself. There is something very seductive about that smooth baritone voice, rife with righteous anger, that will attempt to sway you to his side. You’ll be pulled further and further inward until you realize your state. Escape is easy. He does not attempt to keep you to himself, but merely commiserate with the one he thinks should understand and know the best.

Sleep is your only reprieve from this world of beauty and darkness. There, should you touch upon your lifemate’s mind you’ll find a gentle mix of the two. The lake in moonlight. A quietly whirling sandstorm. The duality can only be truly represented when he is not actively choosing sides, and it is your only solace in such a black and white world you now spend much of your time.



He’ll be daunting, your Llioramasith. Like the desert itself, pitted and grooved by cruel winds and baked solid by the merciless sun, subject to bitter cold in the nights and burning heats during the day, there’s little kindness nor mercy in his brutish muscles or the nature of his movements. His wings are vast and large, his razor talons tipped in a flashing sun-stark gold, just the subtlest whisper of blessing from his jewel-bright dam. He’s massive, on the large side for a brown, and heavy-boned. He’s inherited his sire’s deep, broad chest and his sweeping daggered neckridges gouge in irregular back-swept angles as if sculpted by the fickle inconsistent chisel of wind-erosion, making him as sharply angled and aerodynamic as a flint-knapped arrowhead.

Brown to his core, his solid form embodies all the rich coloration of the desert at night. The swells of his musculature are embraced in the streaks and rippling striations of sienna, burnt sienna and a variety of crispy-fried brown that may well look black unless under direct sunlight. These ripples enfold his entire body like night-shadows over the striations of parched sand, and they twist and grip his hard sinew and sharp bones with every looming movement he makes.


It’s so night-streaked and grim you could almost shiver, where only a marginal shimmer of copper breaks out of the caging streaks of evening shadow-bars at his face, forming a ruddy mask of his powerful reptilian jaws and narrow, shortened crocodile snout, which fades away by the time it reaches his throat and nape.


But hold your breath, Jedi, for the darkness is not as complete as it seems. Look towards the horizon and see, rising up from the night, there will always dwell in the farthest distance a sun, or — in the mystery that is your Llioramasith’s case — two suns, which grace either of his wings equally with a hidden sunrise. Set only in the inner sails, they gleam as two molten copper-gold spheres, so faint, so subject to the light that touches them, that you might hardly notice them until his wings fully open, and these two glowing orbs are capable of filtering light through the fine webbing that houses them. A small glow of promise of light to come, at the far end of this dark and jagged tunnel, this is a father’s blessing bestowed upon him from Lakenheath, a forge-fired bronze he, in turn, inherited from Aevryscienth herself.

It is a small gift. A hidden gift. Passed down from generation to generation like a searing-bright lucky penny, tucked away for those darkest moments to remind him, perhaps, balefully, diligently, irritatingly that the sun will always rise, for those who wait long enough. Or even, perchance, those who try and flee from its glow.


These eye-spots are a trait he will share, possibly at times begrudgingly, with his clutchsister, Qyth. But while his moth-soft sister flashes hers when she’s alarmed, Llioramasith will stretch out the full reach of his monstrous wings in times of great conviction or aggression, so that in the great murk of his body, two flashing-bright glimmers will wink in and out of sight. You may find yourself and H’ris sharing a facepalm if this sets off Qyth’s own agitated fluttering, which in turn might set off your brown into even more amused, aggressive behavior. It might be an embarrassing cycle to have to watch.

But oh. Once those wings open to the air, Jedi, your moody brown of such caution and repose will find a rare and desperate joy. With his twin suns shining brightest, his golden talons free of the weight gravity,there’s a trembling and savage joy you’ll feel welling up in his chest. An infinity of hope and peace as long as the winds are filling his sails and he has nothing, nothing he must do but fly. He’ll learn it slowly, for it will take some time to perfect his take offs, but once he has it, he will be a powerful flying. Too big to do the nimble aerial turns and death-defying stunts of Oroqaith, he won’t care to. He is a creature of endurance. Of grimly gripped forward motion. And he could sail without ever flapping his wings for blissful, serene hours.

Other than this, however, your insidious brown will indulge in very little fanfare about his movements. One need not roar when they can whisper, and with the strength of his body and the proud neck holding up the bold, masculine profile of his head, a whisper of movement from him can speak volumes. He’s not a plodder, he’s slow in a manner stately, taking his time sweeping long confident steps that hold up his frame in a natural stride that could possibly be described as majestic, seeming to pass before a person or dragon for hours, first in head, then shoulders then rib cage that goes on and on in relentless forward motion, powerful rolling ripples of haunches and then on once more with the expansive sweep of his wings and finally long, snaking tail.

Which won’t, of course, be so easy to do as a Weyrling dragonet. For a dragon of such a moving voice and steady, regal bearing, it’s perhaps to be expected that, when he’s small, he might struggle with a bit of the ‘large canine stuck in a small canine’s body’. He will be a font of pushy energy, not running, no, even young he will only run when it is required of him, and even then as a disciplined soldier’s jog, scoffing at Oroqaith’s wild jackrabbit sprinting. No, he will be a dragonet prone to pacing. All those growing muscles in his lank young chest and narrow legs will feel to him like eternally wound springs, and he will prowl at all hours in a fiery temperament of youth, so pent up with energy he could almost explode. Physical feats of strength will be no challenge for him, to the point that he can do them mechanically, joylessly, and with little patience for any that fall behind.

He won’t necessarily fight your attempts to oil him, but he won’t slow down for him either. Expect to have to follow him around and oil him while he does his own routines, and you might have to use a firm hand, Jedi, when Llioramasith needs bathing. You’ll learn quickly that, perhaps, the only true bargaining chip you have is his feeding. And if you give in and feed him first, you’ll have little on the table that can sway him to pause his restless prowl long enough for a scrubbing.

And just in case you were trying to sleep through his night time prowls, there’s something else you should know. Those sedate, heavy steps will be accompanied by a heavy, thick inhale, held deep in his massive lungs and, after a seemingly infinite amount of time, he will slowly, loudly, resoundingly exhale. Over. And over. Again. It will be short little ‘khhhhh… pfffffff… khhhh… pfffff’ respirations when he’s younger, but they will get deeper, louder, stronger with age. Because Jedi, sometimes, when he can’t sleep, when he’s most aggravated, when he’s the most restless, your Llioramasith is kind of… kind of a mouthbreather. It won’t be so starkly prominent during the day, but in the evenings, when you’re going to bed and especially when he’s dead asleep, he will breathe. Loudly. For all the weyrling barracks to hear.

And he will never, ever believe you when you try and tell him.



At first, Llioramasith will be a handful. You know those daily drills and the constant orders that R’yst and the AWLMs will be issuing? No sir, your brown won’t like it. He starts to feel caged and smothered by the lack of control over his life. He wants to explore, to take /risks/. And these risks may involve some fast flying and venturing outside the weyr. He wants to beat the wind, and see what he can see! Which isn’t at all okay in the first few months of weyrlinghood. Likely the flying issue is one you will have to take a strong stance /against/. To fly before a dragon is ready may bring disaster or injury to the young one..a fact that you may have to strongly impress upon him.

However, Faranth help you if you take too firm a hand with him, he’ll just sulk and balk, plain and simple. Weyrlings /do/ need structure, however, and, at some point, your relationship with him will ease a bit and become more like a more equal sibling pairing, somewhere along the line of how Obi-Wan and Anakin were able to reach an agreement as their relationship matured.

"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you."
—Yoda, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace

While you and Llioramasith are both Padawans to being riders, you are more a Master to him than anybody else. Secretly, he holds your opinion in high regard and will be sensitive to your criticisms. One of his greatest fears is losing the the affection of the one he loves the most, being /you/. This is something quickly learned, as, the first sharp word from you will send him sulking and huffing off to breathe heavily
in a corner. This effect will fade over time as he matures, but it will never fully vanish.

While he reveres the ones he most cares about, his opinion of other life forms is not as high. You will find him to be a vicious killer in the pens, perhaps a bit gorier than some other dragons. He likes to dominate and subjugate the lower beasties, and then put them in his belly. They are food, and nothing more to him. But..curiously, sometimes he will have bouts of regret, some self-hatred. Pinpricks of his ‘light’ inside somewhere. Did he waste the meat? Was he too wanton with the killing? Self-doubt can be so delicious.

"They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals. I hate them!"―Anakin Skywalker, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones

Llioramasith will struggle with the right decision in morally gray areas. He is easily influenced by temptation but perhaps Jedi is his light in the darkness, giving him a glimmering of hope. He will go to any length to protect or avenge the ones he loves, even if it is not technically kosher to do so. An eye for an eye mentality combined with a sometimes, short-fused temper is not a really good combination. Even though, in the end, he means well. Anybody who crosses him though, is in for a nasty surprise. He has a /little/ tendency to hold grudges. And by little we mean BIG. Big as much as a being with a limited memory can have.

» But why oh why did you have to trip R’yst? «

« He yelled at you, disrespected your honor. I will not stand for it.. »

» But…we were late for drills. And now we’re on latrines duty for three sevendays! There are better ways to respond.. «

« I won’t forget this! »

A few days later…

« R’yst’s new tunic makes him look powerful. You should get one »

» I thought you hated-…nevermind.. «

A confident brown, sometimes he will bite off more than he can chew, especially when it comes to showing up his clutchmates. He will strive for power, and push you at every turn to vie for the title of Wingleader. Should you two gain this position of power, even more personality traits will become apparent. With a legion of subordinates to ‘worship’ him, Llioramasith may start to display some very bossy, control freak tendencies, and it will be a constant battle of wills, sometimes requiring intervention by the higher-ups.

« I SAID, bank to the left! »

»You said it too late, they had already swerved right. «

« Doesn’t matter. WHO is in charge here? WHO gives the orders here? »

» Uhm, R’yst and Tilla were the ones supervising our first drill as Senior Weyrlings. «

« ME, that’s WHO! Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots! »

What is the best sort of personality trait to combine with confidence and bossiness? Why, being manipulative, of course! While you and he may have many disagreements, he is always looking for ways to bring you over to his side of thinking. He is looking for ways to coerce his fellow clutchmates into following his lead in his quest for power and to be the boss of everything. He isn’t below carefully waiting and watching, or even, stalking his fellow clutchmates to find out their soft spot- I mean weaknesses that he can exploit. And he’s not beneath using baked goods to do this: Speaking of baked goods, have we mentioned that your lifemate has some quirks? Let us break it down
for you. Aside from the splashes of tenderness that he can show to the ones he truly cares about, your lifemate has some ‘lighter side’ quirks that definitely make life interesting! First off, Llioramasith has a sweet tooth, which is sort of unusual for a dragon. But as long as you don’t feed him too many human foods, he should be just fine. But hey, who /doesn’t/ like cookies?


And have we mentioned his affinity for Smiths? Oh yes. Much like Anakin was fascinated with anything mechanical, Llioramasith just CAN’T GET ENOUGH of anything with gears, and cogs and metal bits. You may find that once you are full riders and can leave the weyr, that he wants to go to Smith Hall. The new googa whatsit they are developing is so shiny! And it makes a delightful hissing noise. BUT HOW DOES IT WORK?? He will have to know. He may even want to tinker around with it, but, even though talons are essentially giant screwdrivers, this really won’t end well. It may end up that the Smiths have to get a restraining order unless you get his little obsession under control.

Llioramasith has a varied dynamics with his clutchmates. While Qyth’s southern-belle charms and Elicheritath’s power and quiet personality may be alluring, he tends to avoid dragons like Oroqaith. That blue is just too suspicious for his own good, and Lliora’s personal business is /none/ of his concern. Morkarth, however, is another kettle of fish. His kind and accepting personality tends to be soothing to Lliora’s nerves, and he can probably withstand the moods of your brown quite well. And then there is Vulkasinth. A bronze with strong moral fiber and convictions, he always has a seemingly clear path. The Obi-Wan to Lliora’s Anakin, these two dragons are going to have friction! You may find your brown, someone who is always torn between right and wrong, at times seethingly jealous of the bronze because not only is he good but why does life have to be SO SIMPLE for him!?!

As for other dragons, expect Llioramasith to have a love/hate relationship with them. Those who inspire his inner peace (such as Amuirnith) can serve to touch on the lighter sides of his personality, and perhaps soothe some of the recurring agitation. Others who mirror his own personality are not as warmly received.

Llioramasith is, in essence, a very monogamous dragon. He tends to focus- or obsess on one female at a time, as if he has blinders on. At first, before the slightest inkling of sex, or flights enters his mind (or loins), he will form attachments to various female dragons around him, in the friend-sense. Positions of power are particularly alluring to him- and thus, the females with whom he has the most interaction, and the most power are his first targets. Ligryth’s icy authority, or Amuirnith’s benevolent instruction may fascinate him, for reasons he does not yet understand.

Llioramasith’s mother will play a pivotal role in his young life. From hatching, although you are the center of his universe, there will be something a little different about this dragon. He is quite preoccupied with his mother, even going to great lengths to please her. He may confide some of his fears in her before he tells you. Don’t be surprised if at first, you have a little competition, until he becomes a little older and more concerned with his own affairs….and the rise to power which you and he are destined for, right?

« MOM! I was the fastest flyer at the pens today! I’ve trained so well and I can kill things way faster than all the other weyrlings! Did you see?? »

Talicanitath awakens to this speaker in her mind. « I… see. » She drawls out, the illuminating glimmer from her mental gems
becoming brighter. « I should bet your half-sister, Ligryth, also would like to know. You should tell her. Now. » She fades away
for but a brief moment, before stating « I am proud of you, son of mine. » and then departing in a flash of diamond dust.

Time passes, and Llioramasith is now a Senior Weyrling…

« Mom. I just can’t do it…..»

There is a pause. A mental sigh of resignation. Talicanitath waits another breath and then asks, « Can't do what, Llioramasith? »

« How am I going to move into a weyr so far away from your weyr?! Will I ever see you again? »

If a dragon could facepalm, Talicanitath would be doing so. « Son of mine, » The term of endearment is said with little patience.
« The Weyr is only so big, and I am only so small. Our paths will cross again. » She throws in a soothing note, sparkling lights
reflecting from emeralds. « You know well where my ledge sits, you may visit… sparingly. Either way, you are an adult now and I
expect you to act as such. Do not disappoint me. »



The monogamy/fixation on one lady at a time we mentioned above? Expect it to ramp up as Llioramasith comes of age. Once out of weyrlinghood, his desires turn to things not so pure, and he will fixate, or obsess on one female dragon, even before her flights. Elicheritath’s cool headed presence will definitely be something he is after. It is to the female of his choice that he can show a softer side, touching on the lightness that is embedded (albeit very deeply) in his psyche. He will offer sweet words and small gifts to make his presence unforgettable. Perhaps a little rock, shaped and smashed by his talons, or a decorative piece of wood with embedded grasses, sometimes it is the little things that count.

Anakin: "Are you an angel?"

Queen Amidala: "What?"

Anakin: "An angel. I've heard the deep space pilots talk about them."
"They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe."

—Anakin Skywalker, Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace

Just before the flight, when most dragons are just busy blooding kills at the pens, your brown definitely goes above and beyond the minimum amount of effort. Those gorgeous, monstrous wings of his? The eyespots will be fully displayed for all to see. It is a time of great conviction for him, even before he has taken to the air, and the other males should just get out of his way.

During the flights themselves, and after even more attempts at wooing, Llioramasith will become frustrated. Flight patterns are unpredictable, but they should be militaristic, and like drills, no? LINES! IMPERIAL MARCHING! Under tight control. His control. He will order around the suitors and even the lady of his choice, all to arrange them to his satisfaction, but of course that will fail! And then he may resort to physically pushing the other males out of the way. With a body like a football linebacker, Llioramasith has the capability of doing serious damage to any rivals on the ground and in the air, and it may be harder on his rider to keep control of him so that he’s safe during those times.

His first few flights will be very awkward, for this reason. Eventually, with enough practice, he will become more adept at exploiting that one flaw or weak spot in the flight pattern (like that exhaust pipe on the Death Star) which gives him a much greater chance of getting closer to his target. That, combined with his agility and precision in flight will greatly increase his chances of winning. The first flight he wins, he will obsess over it, to the point of exhaustion. He will relive every detail, down to what side of the bowl they flew out of, over and over, probably driving you crazy. And he will also harass the lady who allowed him to win this flight. As the rider it is up to you to maintain a strong mental link to snap him out of this obsession ..even though it is going to take a while.

And Faranth help you if he loses a flight. Or rather, when he loses. He is a sore loser, preferring to physically lash out to express his huge amount of ANGER and FRUSTRATION! You may find him breaking rocks by tossing them against the weyr bowl walls, or snapping wooden posts in half with his FISTS! If he loses a flight of a dragon that he is actually close to, he will stop chasing her for a long time, and maybe even stop talking to her. Losing a flight is not only a disgrace, but it is BETRAYAL! How could she not choose him after turns of wooing (obsessing)!

It is the pickyness and tendency to keep only one female in his view for longer periods of time that will lend itself to participation in very few mating flights. Other ladies are just not worth Lliora’s time. He will wait patiently for /the/ lady of his choice to fly. This may be a good or bad thing for you, Jedi, depending on your preferences. But being that it is a weyr, should you desire, you will probably have no lack of sexual partners outside flights as well.


Should Lliora win a gold flight and become a clutchfather, he will likely be a lurker, hovering just outside the sand’s edge. He will be worried about tainting or harming his offspring, yet he will never venture far from the bowl for long. Pacing, he maintains a vigilant watch, quick to step in if it seems like any of his progeny might be hurt.


“Decide you must, how to serve them best.”—Yoda, Star Wars Episode V- The Empire Strikes Back

The information above is of course, only a suggestion! Llioramasith is yours to do with what you please.
We hope you have as much fun playing him as we had writing him, and we are so happy to welcome to High Reaches Weyr!


Name: Paige, Tilla tweak
Egg Desc: Tilla
Dragonet Desc: R'yst
Messages: Paige
Puppeteer: Tilla
Inspiration: Tilla, Paige, R'yst

S'erc's bronze Vulkasinth, Tuli's gold Elicheritath, H'ris's green Qyth, M'yck's blue Oroqaith and Mal's brown Morkarth

Harper's Tale's 62nd PC Clutch
High Reaches Weyr's 23rd PC Clutch
Lendai's gold Talicanitath and Sh’z’s bronze Lakenheath
March 22, 2012

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