Appearance: Jierda, I must say, is beautiful. She’s a little on the short side, standing at about 5’ 4”, but what she lacks in height she makes up for in attitude, looks, and kindness. Her hair is relatively short, going only about half way down the back of her neck, but it is a beautiful shade of red. Not to dark, but certainly nowhere near her being a carrot top. Actually, her hair looks like fire. Shades of red, blonde and even a reddish-orange, blend and mix to appear as though she has a head of fire, certainly a beautiful hair color for her. Her hair is straight with only a slight curl at the bottom so it curls inward, towards her face. Her flesh is tanned nicely from countless hours in the sunlight, but she is far from being overly dark. Her features are fair and flawless everything about her is perfect. Every curve is perfectly round and she certainly does wear clothes that flatter her figure, who knew somebody could make wherhide look so good! Her eyes are beautiful shining orbs; her irises are rings of sunshine that can brighten anyone’s day. Beautiful shining golden yellow that envies the sun. But don’t let looks be deceiving. She’s strong, quite so, and doesn’t hesitate to fight back should she have to. She’s taken down riders twice her size, but they deserved it. She doesn’t fight unless it necessary but is good at it when she does. She is usually found wearing a white undershirt, a wherhide tunic of deepest brown and wherhide trousers that match her tunic, and a pair of tight fitting black boots that run up to her knee. On special occasions, such as gathers, she’ll be dressed in a white undershirt, black tunic, black trousers and black boots, a different pair of black boots. The entire ensemble is trimmed with shimmering emerald green. On VERY rare occasions she can be seen wearing dresses.

Personality: Jierda is not really your typical woman, in appearance maybe, but in personality, well she can be quite unpredictable. Usually Jierda has a smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes. Despite the fact she is only a green rider, she carries herself with a pride that most green riders don’t have. Her strides are long and just don’t seem to fit in with her size. She is not easily angered, not most of the time anyway, but when angered, she becomes dangerous, very much so. When it comes to Threadfall, she’s fierce and unyielding, never stopping even when she’s half unconscious from Threadscore. She’s very understanding of other’s problems and will often try to help if she can. She’ll sit and listen to both sides of a story should she ever have to, and never makes accusations unless she knows she can back them up with proved knowledge. Oh, a suggestion, never call her short unless you want to be caught in a flurry of harsh words and sometimes even a fist or two. She hates being called short and prefers the term “vertically challenged”. Other than that, she doesn’t really care about what people think of her, it is their opinion and none of her business really what they think. She’s been called pretty by many, but much of the time she brushes off the words without a second thought. She’s not entirely interested in relationships, but then again, she’s never had one. She turns down every man and has just never really found someone who can relate to her in any way. Perhaps, one day, she’ll find the perfect man, but for now, she’s happy with just having her Wyrdath and Cobalt.

History: Jierda was the youngest of four children; she had three older brothers, Yazuac, Shruikan, and Barzul. Barzul was the eldest, and then came Shruikan, then Yazuac, and finally Jierda. Being the only daughter she was paid little attention to by her parents, Thrista and Jrome, both workers at Ruatha Hold. Her brothers, one by one, left for some sort of training. Barzul went to the smith crafthall, Shruikan went to harper hall and Yazuac went to the healer hall. Jierda though, remained home. Her parents felt she had no talents that could be built upon, that she could do nothing. So Jierda allowed the Turns to pass by. She read many books, learning all she could of Pern’s history and especially did she delve into Ruatha’s history. After reading the stories of Lessa and F’lar, learning of Jaxom, Ruatha’s past Lord Holder and the rider of the only known white dragon Ruth, she became fascinated by dragons and simply began to dream of them. Day in and day out she’d lie in the tall grasses around the Hold, watching runners in the pastures and the clouds in the sky. She’d daydream of being a Dragonrider, not just any Dragonrider, a queen rider, of a great gold. But then she would always remember that dragons were barely useful anymore, Thread no longer fell over Pern as it once had. Turns passed and still Jierda dreamed of a dragon of her own. Clutches were being laid, new colours were arriving, and how she wished she could have one of her own. One day a small wing of dragons came to Ruatha on Search, but they passed Jierda by. At this time, she was 18, and she was quite depressed that she was passed by. Her parents finally became sick and tired of her lazing about, dreaming of a dragon she could never have, and began to literally beat some sense into her. After that day, she worked, usually helping with herdsbeasts and runners. Turns passed in such a manner, two Turns to be exact. Now 20, Jierda had had enough of her parents. So, in the dark of night, she ran. Grabbing some food and a few close possessions, she left Ruatha. She ran and ran hard, never stopping, her feet carrying her with great speed over the land. She felt like nothing could outrun her, she felt like she could race the wind and win, she felt free. For nearly the whole night she ran, stopping only as the sun began to kiss the dark horizon line. In the distance, far behind her, she could still make out the shape of Ruatha Hold. Further she had to run to leave it behind, but first, she had to eat. After a quick and miniscule meal and a short nap, Jierda was up and running again. She had to go further, and further. Perhaps she could make it to Nabol, the nearest Hold. Perhaps she could make it there. The trip was long, dangerous, and lonely, but after about three sevendays, Nabol Hold came into sight. So on she ran, her feet carrying her faster everyday she ran. Strength now pumped through her, she had grown so much over the past month or so. When she showed up at Nabol, everybody thought she was a runner with a message, but no, she was a runner, but with no message, nor purpose. So there at Nabol she stayed, now able to live more freely. She became a runner, a messenger. Over the next Turn, she ran messages between Holds. But then, on the day she turned 21, Search dragons showed up at Nabol. But this time, one came for Jierda. She had just gotten a message to run off, but no, the dragon and his rider found her before she could even leave the Hold. Thankfully, the rider understood and helped her to deliver her message, and then it was to Fort Weyr, where Jierda was to start life anew, for the second time. After not even a sevendays at the Weyr, the clutch hatched, Jierda standing upon the Sands. She left with pride, her new green Wyrdath at her side. Then it was on to training. For two Turns, Jierda trained and trained hard. Her and Wyrdath tried everything, did everything, Jierda learnt how to use a flamethrower, despite the fact she was a green rider and could flame Thread anyway, she still learnt. She learnt a little bit about healing, for both dragons and people. And when graduation day came around, Jierda had no doubt she would graduate. She did, with flying colours. Then came the fun bit, flying Thread. First Threadfall was not terrible, by Jierda returned with rather heavy Threadscore, but had lasted the entire fall. Only after it had passed did she finally collapse onto her dragon’s neck. For about two sevendays she was kept in bed, as much as she disliked the idea, but she healed completely and was soon ready to fight again. For two Turns Jierda and Wyrdath fought Thread together, coming out sometimes with no Threadscore, other times with heavy Threadscore, but always coming out on their own power. Then, she Impressed her blue flit, Cobalt. She had to admit; Cobalt was a big help in fall. He gave Jierda two extra eyes, telling her where Thread was falling, if she or Wyrdath were in danger, he was so helpful. So now she had her green dragon, Wyrdath, and her marvellous blue flit, Cobalt. Nothing could go wrong now could it? Well, she had made many friends, and one stood out. Her best friend ever was Tiamit, a brown rider who had trained with Jierda. They had met on the Hatching Sands and had been friends ever since. One day, during fall, Tiamit’s brown went down, Tia going with him. Jierda was heartbroken that Tiamit had fallen, but she still had Wyrdath and Cobalt, but now she was cautious with her companionships and steered clear as best as she could of boys.

Dragon’s Name: Wyrdath
Color: Green
Age: 6
Size: 30 feet
Dam/Sire: Former Senior Fort Gold Ilizth, Former Weyrleader Bronze Trith
Weyr of Origin: Fort Weyr (Clutched and Hatched)

Appearance: Wyrdath is a beautiful shade of green, hued like swaying grasses. The pale green his swirled with golden yellow, pale bronze, and even little shades of brown. Though not even a beryl, Wyrdath carries herself regally, with great pride and certainly with an uncanny haughtiness. She’s larger than average, maybe the size of a large blue.

Personality: Wyrdath thinks very highly of herself, often comparing herself to beryls and even queens. She even compares herself to the great Fayneth, though Hers often warns her against it. Wyrdath is sly, and probably one of the smartest dragons around. She feels that no dragon can out-fly her and believes that if she could clutch that her clutches would outshine those of any queen, even Fayneth. Despite this fact, she still has great respect for authority and follows orders well, unless she feels that her plan, whatever it is, is better than the orders given. Only in Threadfall is she as aggressive as Hers, normally she’s calm and very much a flirt, much unlike Jierda. She’ll even flirt with bronzes and silvers should the mood hit her, but usually it’s blues and browns. She is trying to pull Hers out of the little sort of “pit” she’s in, trying to get Jierda hooked up with a rider. But Wyrdath won’t find just any rider for Hers, no, he’s got to be just right. No noble old deadglows or young wherlets (whelps) who can’t control themselves.

Egg Description: Wyrdath’s egg was the largest green egg in the clutch. It was hued of a rainbow of colours which included pale green, emerald green, pale yellow, tan, deep brown, bronze, silver and even a little bit of gold. At first glance one couldn’t tell exactly what color the egg would be because no colour made up the majority of the egg, they all mingled and combined, making it seem like this egg could contain almost any color of dragon. Many people, both candidate and spectator, wondered exactly what color the egg withheld.

Hatching: The egg that stood out among the rest, shell a swirling vortex of colours, sat still, the dragon within not yet ready to emerge. Her rider-to-be was out there, waiting for her to emerge, but the hatchling would wait too. From within her egg she could hear the cracks and creels of her siblings as they broke from their prisons and found Theirs. But still, she waited. Many who watched also waited, not just the dragon’s rider-to-be. Finally the dragonet had enough of sitting there, allowing eyes to continually caress the shell of her egg. She rattled the egg, trying to spread her wings, and noticed cracks form as light began to enter into the darkness of the shell. With a bash of her head against the shell, more cracks appeared and finally a hunk large enough for the dragonet to stick her head out of fell off. The first part of her to enter the world was her head, followed closely by the rest of her; she was able to squeeze out through the hole she had made. Her head swivelled around, eyes whirling blue-green with happiness; she was free of her prison now, and starving. Now, where was Hers? The green stood and looked around, eyes stopping to peer at every candidate, Hers was there somewhere…

Impression: Jierda stood upon the Hatching Grounds, her heart beat quickly, but that was the only sign of her feelings. It did not beat swift from fear, but from anxiety. She was excited and had a feeling that one of the dragons that would soon hatch would be hers. Every dragon that hatched, Jierda would look at, hoping, ever hoping that one would come to her. But as over half the clutch disappeared, her hopes dropped slightly, but then her golden eyes caught a glance of the strange coloured egg. There her orbs remained fixated, seemingly held there by some magnetic force. But the egg never budged. By far, Jierda felt that this egg was the most magnificent, it just had to hatch, the dragon within couldn’t be dead. But as dragon after dragon hatched, no movement came from the egg, none what so ever. Jierda sighed and her eyes flickered away from the egg they had watched for so long. It was just then that it rattled and Jierda’s eyes shot back over to it. Jierda sensed that other eyes were on the egg as well, not just hers. Jierda saw cracks forming over the surface and could make out a bit of the outline of the dragonet within through one of the cracks. Then more cracks formed and a piece of the shell fell away, Jierda watched the piece of shell that fell, it sat beneath the hole it had left, but Jierda’s gaze was brought back to the egg as a head poked through the membrane. Jierda smiled as the dragon all but slithered from her shell and then stood regally, head turning left and right. Its eyes rested on every remaining candidate in turn and when they struck Jierda, something seemed to happen. Jierda’s soul seemed to split, leaving her feeling as though she was dying. But then, something took the place of that missing soul, something warm yet not quite human. Then, the newly hatched green made her way forward, stopping before Jierda with eyes whirling a pleased blue-green. {Jierda?} [Yes, I am Jierda.] {You are MY Jierda, and I am your Wyrdath.} [My Wyrdath.] Jierda smiled and knelt down beside her dragon, arms encircling the still damp neck. [Welcome to the world Wyrdath.] {I thank you Mine. I am hungry though and I cannot enjoy this wondrous world on an empty stomach.} [Of course, nor can I. Food awaits you in the Dining Hall Wyrdath, and after the rest of your clutch-mates hatch, the feast shall begin.] {It sounds enjoyable Mine. Let us depart.} [Of course Wyrdath.] So Jierda left the Sands, her beautiful green walking regally beside her and a new sparkle in her eyes…

Flit’s Name: Cobalt
Color: Blue
Age: 2

Appearance: Cobalt is a deep, well, cobalt blue. He’s a handsome little flit and can actually turn a few heads, as long as they’re beryl or green heads. Queens just seem to ignore him, but he doesn’t really care. He’s a VERY large blue, nearly the size of a small bronze! He’s never tried to chase a queen, but who knows, his ego’s big enough, maybe he’ll try it.

Personality: As mentioned, Cobalt has a BIG ego. He thinks he’s better than any other flit and certainly shows it and acts like it’s true. He’s your typical blue actually, except not nearly as mischievous, He’s never stolen anything and never really plans to, well; actually, I shouldn’t say he never stole anything. He once stole a rider’s belt knife; thinking His would like to have it. But Jierda returned it, apologizing for Cobalt. But normally, Cobalt is good and enjoys showing off and is as big a flirt as Wyrdath. He too is trying to put His together with a rider, but he’s not exactly the best matchmaker in the world. He leaves most of the work to Wyrdath. But he’s loyal and true and would never leave His, no matter what. He’s there during fall, fog and fire…