Profile
Lantessama Candidates This page will reside on my site at /dragonsites/kshau_dragons/dragonhope/dragonhope_weyr/wings/teket-thola.htm | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| They knew only the woods and the wind for the early years of their lives. They lived on the outskirts of their village, at the edge of a forest that seemed to go on forever, at least in their young eyes. They would follow their father into the woods as far as he would let them, before he delved deeper to find the better, hardier old wood in locations shunned by many. Those old forests were rare, every few hundred years they would come at great risk of destruction - but the Weyrs protected them. The dragons and their brave riders. It was difficult to see the sky from the hut they lived in, but somehow both children always knew when they were flying overhead. From their mother they learned how to barter and interact with the others in the village, though truth be told it was rare to find others their age. Most of the families in the place were either much older or farther across the broad circle that formed the borders, and wandering so far from their hut was not advised. Father's stern warnings to remain close by were heeded. The days of storms and the damage they caused gave both children, even at very early ages, pause to realize that being caught in them would certainly mean death. They knew death - the closest neighbor's dog had gotten caught by a falling branch, its flesh whipped by the intense rain. It scared both of them for days, perhaps years. When the storms cleared, there was always cause for celebration, however, and that was when they would be allowed to run with the other kids, meet their more distant kin, and mingle. They learned how to sell their father's carvings, how to spot people who didn't belong in the village or were passing through, they learned how to throw dice and recognize simple symbols on playing cards. Their auntie and uncles were impressed with how well both of them behaved, until Thola started laughing at the man's bald head. It was clear where their preference for Teket lay, after that point! But Thola enjoyed racing around and playing seek and hide games, while Teket intently watched a new hut being built. Even as young as 6 and 5 years old, their personalities were asserting themselves. With steadier hands, it was sure that Teket was to become a woodworker himself, like his talented father. With already-keen bartering skills, Thola would definitely inherit their mother's shopfront business end. That is, until the one storm which blew through and ripped their parents away from them. They were 9 and 10 years old, both practiced by that point at their chosen skills, not quite old enough to be sent to any guild or craft hall, or become an apprentice... When the riders came that season, it was to a broken and sad village rather than a busy little trade center. Three families had lost members, but Teket and Thola... they'd lost both their parents. The woodworker's hut had come down around them both, and Teket had managed to rescue the tools he was entrusted, but also the carving that his father had been working on at the time: a watchwher, it had to be? It wasn't going to be for him, the boy knew this one was to be sold at market, but it was unfinished. Maybe... Some day, he'd finish it. Maybe. But every time he looked at that half-hewn figure, with rough gouges showing wing folds and claw buds only on one side and the rest still untouched, he saw his father's cold blue-tinted hand. Thola had fared little better, as she was up in the front of their hut with their mother, she did however manage to keep the family savings safe, knowing the importance of those Marks in the box her mother kept under their kitchen floor. She had to dig around their mother's body, to reach it. Traumatized children were nothing new to the dragon riders. Their specific traumas could probably be worked around, gotten past, at some point. But for now, they helped gather the kids' family goods, tools, and gear as much as they could, and moved them into the lower caverns of their Weyr. Dragonhope needed hands, all the time, after all. They were welcome, they were warmed by hearth fires as well as those weird vents in the walls. The location spooked both of the kids - it was so cold on this side of those mountain peaks, and that ocean? Where were the treetops, where were the boulders and deer? Eventually though, they came to enjoy life there, busy and helpful both of them. Thola still never managed to conquer her quick tongue, but rarely said anything so directly offensive that she'd be shunned or kicked out of the supply rooms. She kept track of all the goods that came and went, quite good with numbers and counting boxes, barrels, and baskets. She did a quick job of assessing eggs and corn cobs, and on occasion was rewarded with trinkets or bits she could trade later on in the gambling den below the Weyr. She didn't like it underground, but the gamblers had their own cave with a view overlooking the small port down there, which was very nice indeed. She won enough that she could choose her seat at her own table, looking past other players into the scenery outside. Her brother Teket led expeditions into deep caverns, delving into ruins that people didn't normally look for. Failed colonies? Ruins were left for a reason, right? Well, he was good with finding items that had been left behind, whether it was two hundred years, or two days ago. The Weyr steward let him attend some meetings with traveling folk, and somehow their tales of how they reached the Weyr or the coast overall managed to filter into the teenager's mind so well he could point it out on a map without having been able to read the names of towns. Their level of literacy needed work, that was for sure, but it was while they were both busy with their own jobs that the trumpeting of dragons went up. Searchriders rarely came down to their own Weyr, apparently, but over time both of them were Searched. Neither of them were afraid of heights or of dragons up close, though Teket didn't seem to like flitters and flitters didn't seem to like him right back. The riders were somewhat curious that the sister didn't like following her brother into the caverns where goods might be found - but her sense of fear over those darker, close-walled places was well founded. If they were to impress dragons, she would have her choice of the air and winds, and it was clear she'd take that choice eagerly. So up into the Weyr's broad and well-lit halls they went, attending some classes before being told that a clutch was available on sands ... confusingly off the map. Teket kept asking how to get there, kept being told 'by dragon'. They gathered their gear, riding gear that he'd found so well preserved it was almost meant to be opened by them anyway. They would be coming back here to Dragonhope, but for now they'd head off to Lantessama's sands. It would certainly be an adventure trying to pinpoint this place on a map... | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Dragons - Name: Species: Gender: Color: Size: s/l/ws Parents: Abilities: Personality: Sociability: Intelligence: Mating: Threadfighting: Other: Bond: | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
