Z'ren -Brownrider Weyrling & Former BMS

:: OOC Information ::
Moniker:JQ/ Els/ Sixth
How did you hear about us?:CoFounder


:: Character Information ::
Name:
Zairren

Pronunciation:
Zair-ren [like air, but with a Z. second r is pretty much de-voiced. Almost like aaron.]

Title:
N/A

Honourific:
Z’ren

Age/ Turn of Birth:
486 AL/ 16, almost 17 (Birthday in late Autumn)

Gender:
Male

Place of Birth:
Somewhere in Telgar -Likely a cothold outside of Southern Telgar Hold

Place of Residence:
Fort Weyr

Craft:
Hold Guard

Occupation/ Role:
Blood Moon Squad member (or was until he came to the Weyr). He is now a Brownrider Weyrling

Character Aspirations:
Because of the circumstance of his upbringing, he feels as though his lot in life is just what it is, and he has never really thought too much about what else might exist in the world for him. The BMS encouraged a strong loyalty to the family they had there, amoungst themselves, and so he had few thoughts about leaving to pursue any search for his birth family. Life at their mountainside home just seemed to suit him. He was never unhappy with it, in general. Thus, until he came of an age where they started sending the boys into nearby cotholds for periodic errands or missions, there was no exposure to the outside world to the extent that he understood all the possibilities in the world that might be his. Though as a perfectionist, he always strived to be the best, when it came to their training exercises and the skills that they learned, that was the only thing that he knew and loved, as far as ambitions. Perhaps then, it could be said that he led a simple life, in that aspect, because as long as he could continue doing what he was doing and do it very well, he was happy.


Family:
✣Father:Unknown
✣Mother:Unknown
✣Siblings:Unknown
✣Children:N/A
✣Other Significant:Captain and other personnel housed at his former mountainside home with the BMS. He also cherishes the relationships he’s had with those he grew up with in the BMS. They are like family to him.


Appearance:



✣Face:Park Geun Tae
✣Hair:Near-black, grown to just below shoulder length and typically pulled half back into a ponytail with a piece of leather string. He hates to have his hair cut any shorter than that. It is naturally thick and relatively straight.
✣Eyes:Medium beaver brown that is dark close to the pupil but lightens toward the outer edge of the iris.
✣Height:5’10” and still growing.
✣Build:Very sturdy build for a boy his age. Even for a kid who is physically active, he shows an incredible amount of muscle tone and early development of a more mature young male’s body because of the extent of physical training he has been put to. After his adoption, he’s also had a good supply of protein and so has grown tall and will fill out as he grows older, to be decently sized in muscle and width of his shoulders.
✣Other Notable Physical Traits:A few small scars, but nothing really significant. He still shows a little youthful roundness to his face that will trim up as he gets older.

✣Style of Dress:He owns no fine clothes, and pretty much everything he has in the way of accoutrement is for practical and survival use. His attire is thereby simple and casual; usually a tunic and loose pants. Generally the cloth of his attire appears well-worn or roughly woven, obviously not by any weaver who was a master at his craft, or that wanted to put any expense into the clothing. He wears no jewelry, though sometimes wears a strip of cloth tied about his head to keep sweat from running into his eyes. He has one pair of boots that are new to him and only just recently, for his graduating into the start of his journeymanship, received a leather belt and back-sheath for his sword. Both of these items he had long coveted. Of course, these too, he has little use for thus far at the Weyr. But, it makes him feel more mature and more like an adult to have them. Just like his Captain from the BMS.

✣Possessions usually found on persona:
(This pertains to him previous to going to the weyr. After going to the weyr, he wouldn’t carry as much with him.)
+Utility knife -old and with a handle well worn, but the blade he keeps in good repair.
+Portable candlelight in a brass holder. (Won’t carry it at the Weyr. It’ll be in his trunk of personal belongings).
+Short sword, which he carries in his hand, across his back or at a frog on his hip. (Won’t carry it at the Weyr. It’ll be in his trunk of personal belongings).
+Long-knife for heavier utilitarian use like cutting through rope, etc.
+Travel pack (Won’t carry it at the Weyr. It’ll be in his trunk of personal belongings).
+Bow and quiver for hunting excursions. (Won’t carry it at the Weyr. It’ll be in his trunk of personal belongings).


History:
✣Zairren does not remember his birth parents. Whether because of its unspectacular nature or because of some trauma his young mind may have wanted to forget, Zairren remembers little more than a couple of faces of people he must have once known from that early time in his life. All he knows of his life from before the age of 7, is that it was it was becoming more and more common at that point in Telgar’s history during the rebellion, for children to have become abandoned for any variety of reasons. For him, he’d been alone and struggling to survive as a beggar on the streets. At his young age, there was little more he could do for himself.

Since he does not remember much from before the age of seven, and no one else knows anything about his life before then either, his life really starts here. It is at this age that Zairren was found on the streets outside Southern Telgar Hold, hiding in a ditch, under a bridge for shelter. His body was too lean and it was apparent by looking at him that he had not had a good, nourishing meal in some time.

It was the Hold Guard then, who took him in, under new orders to help get children off the streets. But instead of letting him choose his path as he grew up, they would enroll him in training with other young boys about his age. He and others like him, would become the Hold’s hope for continued peace in the future, once all of this talk of rebellion was over with.


✣When Zairren arrived at the Blood Moon Squad camp site in the isolated mountainside cothold, he found that it was full of other boys with a similar situation as he, having been left alone with no one to provide for him when they were too young to provide for themselves. There were several caves that were used, along with a couple of small buildings which consisted of Captain’s office; an archives room; a ‘gather hall’ in which they dined and where meetings were held; barracks for the teams that the boys were split into; living quarters for the camp’s staff; a kitchen; a small stable and pens for herdbeasts that were kept for milk and some flightless avians for their eggs; and an infirmary.

Though he was barely younger than many of the boys who were already there, Zairren showed a desire to participate in activities with them, as it made him feel part of the group. The Captain allowed him to join the rest of the boys since his age was assumed as at least about 8 turns, and thus, started his official training. He’d been warned though, that the first two weeks of training were very difficult, and he might not make it through.

Indeed the captain was right. There had been the handful cases where boys had surpassed their physical limitations and either been let go, or died. Zairren however, seemed to possess no fear, and his eyes were set and determined to complete the first two week’s trial so that he could join the others. There were others though, who would be competing in this trial with him, so he would not be alone -but they weren’t supposed to help one another. They had to prove themselves capable of the physical and mental challenges ahead of them.

Zairren did well then, managing to make it through the two week’s trials, graduating into one of the Blood Moon Squad’s teams. Once he’d begun regular training drills with his team, it wasn’t long until he was being challenged by others within the team’s unofficial hierarchy to find out where he placed. Over that next turn or two, it was a constant battle to maintain even some hardly-worthy status in their eyes. At least he was better than a dog in his own team’s eyes. The competition between the rest of the Squad’s teams would ensure that to those outside of their group, he was lower than a tunnel snake crawling on its belly. And in fact, he did sometimes crawl into bed at night to find a tunnel snake there waiting for him. Funny how that happened.

Of course, this only steeled his determination to perfect his skills.

As he grew older, he was able to best many of the boys at the camp, and he rose to be one of the most respected members of his team -and became respected even amoungst the other teams. Zairren was also recognized as a leader amoungst them, because his particular -if not mysterious- charisma and height of his skills drew the other boys in his team to him. It was natural that they turned to him when someone of their team needed to take charge. Generally, the Captain let the boys discover their own ‘team leaders’ for themselves. It was a natural process, and each team’s ‘leader’ seemed to vary in personality and level of capability, etc. The Captain enjoyed watching and helping guide how the boys all learned to work together then.


✣During a hunting excursion with two of his Blood Moon brothers, dark clouds formed over the mountains and a great storm blew over them, building up in force more quickly than they could find shelter. Bringing high winds and torrential rains, with thunder and lightning, the storm further soaked already wet ground, creating cause for concern over mudslides and flooding. So, while trying to reach the safety of a nearby cave, Zairren slipped from one such muddy slope and tumbled down a ravine that left him with cuts and bruises, a sprained ankle and even a couple of fractured ribs.

Unable to navigate his way back up it in the darkness of the storm, Zairren tried to pick himself back up to search out an outcropping of rock or something that he could hide under until the worst of the weather had subsided. Before he was able to come across any such haven, Zairren met another bad stroke of luck -or perhaps it was fate- when the muddy ground along the mountain’s steep slopes gave way under him once again; only this time, his fall was into the swift current of a river. The river then, carried Zairren a good distance downstream, depositing him on a calmer bank -one that didn’t seem as disturbed by chaotic weather.

Barely maintaining consciousness through the ordeal, Zairren had lost one shoe, but luckily still had his pack of gear and bow intact, across his back, though he’d lost all of his arrows. Everything he had with him was now completely soaked through, and Zairren had not the strength to pull himself but just onto the bank of shoal where the water could no longer reach him.

Come daybreak, nearby cotholders found him, but it was an old healer woman who’d taken him into her care. The old grandmother kept him in her home for several days, and when he’d awoken and felt well enough to be out of bed, the grandmother insisted that he was not well enough to be traveling long distances on foot, even if it was to go home.

Zairren knew by the position of the stars that he wasn’t on the same latitude as his mountain cothold. To get there, he would need to go further North. And East maybe. He wasn’t really sure. It could take him a number of days to find the proper latitude and then a landmark he was familiar with, which would help him gauge where he needed to head next. There weren’t many cotholds between here and there, to guide him. Not to mention, he’d be traveling alone. THe old woman couldn’t very well go with him.

For that reason, Zairren remained with her until he was feeling better. She was able to find him a pair of shoes to wear once the swelling in his ankle went down, and there was always the hope that the Blood Moon Squad would come looking for him. But, days went by, and soon it had been nearly three sevendays and still there’d been no sight nor sound of his ‘family’. So, he began to wonder if they thought him dead.

By the start of his fourth week of having been missing, Zairren was able to walk freely on his injured foot, and felt little discomfort in his side, where his ribs would still take a little more time to heal. Most of his bruises had begun to fade, though they still speckled him in ugly discoloration, and the majority of little scratches he’d received were nearly gone.


In this world,
There are untold stories
Unread stories

When I gazed at your eyes
I could see a distant place
That was unknown to me

Your eyes, they told a story
A story with its doors open to me
Doors that won’t ever close again

Destiny is unchangeable
So let’s go to that unknown place
I’ll prepare for what’s ahead of me

I need someone to protect
Just with that wish
I will live any existence
For that moment you need me.


Zairren had seen a couple of dragons before, but from a far distance. He’d never seen one up close. The first time he laid eyes on the Search dragon who’d come to the cothold to find candidates for the Weyr’s upcoming clutch, he felt it’s eyes peer into him -as though the beast could look into his very soul. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and immediately Zairren turned and hastened his steps to go elsewhere.

The Dragon’s rider though, stopped him, calling out his name unexpectedly. When Zairren’s steps faltered, surprised that the Rider knew his name, he was caught by the rider’s hand on the shoulder. The Bluerider turned him about, but Zairren backpedaled and swatted the rider’s hand away.

“Heey, what’s wrong?” The Bluerider had said, smiling in an easy way, not having seemed to take offense at the boy’s reaction to his touch, “I just wanted to tell you that Selarth likes you. You should come to the Weyr with us. We could use a strong lad like yourself to fill our ranks.”

Though Zairren wanted to push the Rider away again and run the other way, he felt somehow even more compelled to look back into the dragon’s eyes. When he did, the dragon’s eyes held him, and though he wanted to resist whatever magic held him captive there, he could not. Zairren was amazed by the beast.

Not but a breath later, the old grandmother who’d cared for him came, interjecting on his behalf. She seemed happy that the Rider took an interest in him, and encouraged Zairren to take his things and go with the man. If his family came by looking for him, she would tell them the wonderful news.

Telling the rider of his desire to join the Hold Guard, that bit of information gave the man a good handle on how to convince the boy to join him. For, much like the Hold Guard, it would be possible to continue physical training, but being a rider had many advantages over simply remaining at the Hold to pursue such a craft.

Thus, before he knew it, Zairren was being whisked away on dragonback. Though it had taken some time to convince him completely -and he still had to wonder if it WAS the right thing to do-, Zairren was not exceptionally good at debating his point of view. He was better at fighting to prove a point, and being as quiet as he usually was didn’t help him in this instance. But, the rider had promised that he would have a great purpose at the Weyr. A great purpose to protect others. And that was a promise that he had a hard time turning down.


✣It was Zairren’s way to recite the story that all of the Blood Moon’s boys had been told about their new ‘heritage’, once they became a part of the Blood Moon Squad. Of course, they could make something else up if they wanted, but it had to be believable. For Zairren, if one were to inquire after his upbringing, the story went that he was born in a small cotholding in the mountains in southern Telgar. It was a good two days walk from the nearest Minor Hold, and took almost just as long to reach the next nearest cothold.

His ‘Father’ was a retired Hold Guardsman who after the rebellion devoted his life to a more peaceful existence, raising his family in their mountain home where he gathered herbs to sell to make them enough marks to get by on -or to trade for the things that they needed. Otherwise, they foraged and hunted for their own food, bathed in the rivers, and with the efforts of their Uncles, Aunts and all the Brothers, they managed to make a good life for themselves. Zairren had many ‘Brothers’ and their ‘Mother’ had died when they were still young -when he was only 7. Their ‘Aunts’, ‘Uncles’ and ‘Cousins’, were the camp’s other staff who provided the necessary amenities to run their cothold, such as: a couple of healers, a couple of smithcrafters who’d diversified a lot in his training but were the master of none, cooks, women who had learned enough about weaving to mend their clothes, etc.

It was a believable story, and there was not much spectacular about it. All he could say for his Craft, is that he had only trained with his dad in hopes of joining the Hold Guard, but never reached the point of doing so, before a Searchrider picked him up.

It has only been three weeks since that time of his arrival at Fort Weyr.





Personality:
✣Cool and level headed generally, but when someone challenges him, he doesn’t shy from proving himself the better, if it concerns something he knows he’s good at. He’s not cocky though, in the respect that he’ll just talk big to make himself look cool in front of others. He doesn’t care for that sort of recognition and finds that sort of thing bothersome.
✣Only socializes with others that he’s supposed to socialize with for group activities. He is quiet and doesn’t talk very much, outside of it being necessary, so isn’t very outgoing in that regard. He isn’t unexpressive though, and doesn’t seclude himself, he simply doesn’t go looking for new friends. Most people might just assume he’s shy at first. When he has decided to make a new friend though, it is with all his heart that he accepts the person.
✣Deeply feeling and contemplative, but he does not adhere to principles that would cause him to have to act righteously. His heart is reserved for specific persons whom he has chosen to feel deeply for.
✣Responds to orders without question generally; unless something confuses him. Very obedient. This goes along with his responsible nature.
✣Doesn’t complain about chores and menial tasks. Those are just part of the requirement for any kind of work. His tolerance of these kinds of these are enforced by his general belief that at least some hardship is just part of life. It is to be expected and will make you stronger as long as you can survive it.
✣Single-minded focus on his goals.
✣Tends to prescribe to the philosophy of survival of the fittest. In that way, he can be unforgiving as he will turn his back on on those around him who are suffering hardship if they are not his friends, or have not proved themselves worthy of it. Though, he has his charitable moments. His tendency toward this is because of the circumstances of his upbringing, but he possesses has a heart that is willing to warm up to others, given time.
✣He is still young enough not to have strictly set habits, so he is still at a point where he can be influenced and is looking to older adults for the kind of guidance and wisdom that makes an impression on him. He decides for himself though just what wisdom and set of moral code to follow.
✣In general, his moral standard is at a higher level than his ethical standard, because he is prone to be swayed by negative impulses and influences; however, he is not prone to breaking codes of conduct that have to do with things like common courtesy and politeness, or even to some extent, chivalry.
✣Quiet and reserved, even around friends. Not a man of many words. Somewhat soft-spoken. Better at resolving matters by walking away or by fighting, than with fancy words.
✣Diligent and enduring. He has high fortitude.
✣He is still in his youth and has a daring side that likes to express itself periodically. He is not unknown to tag along for mischievous adventures with his friends.
✣Under the right circumstances, not opposed to deceit and manipulation of others. Though, he’s too young to attempt anything too serious yet. Generally however, his focus is on the want to protect others and protect his hold (or his weyr) as that is what he was raised to do. Self-less devotion to the protection of the hold.
✣Distrusting and skeptical. He’s always questioning how things in the world work, in his mind. And he’s always wondering what gives authority figures their power. If he could, he would take it from them. Not just because he likes to feel in control of his own situation, but because he does not trust others to have any great amount of influence over him. Again though, his heart is willing to open up to mentors and the like, given time and persistence on their part. Distrust doesn’t only extend to adults however; he just seems to relate better to people his age, so finds it slightly easier to warm up to them.
✣Merciless in the face of those that he’s decided are his enemies.
✣Though he works hard to be the perfect student and perform well in all his tasks, doesn’t complain and would seem to possess the kind of personal drive and confidence that could possibly make him a good at filling a leadership role one day, those who are perceptive may notice a well concealed pain and darkness that lies underneath his outward gentle, perfectionist nature. The expression of his eyes reflect it more than his behaviour. This can also lend him a Mysterious, charismatic aura because of the shadow that seems to follow him.
✣Perfectionist. Wants to be the best at whatever it is he sets his mind to doing.
✣Curious, though he won’t always show it outwardly, so that others can tell. He may at first just give sly sidelong glances in the direction of what he takes interest in, afraid that if he were to pursue it, it may become bothersome to someone else.
✣Does not possess much ego; he tends to take more offense when people insult his family than himself, and tends to avoid showing off toooo much. He likes to think he’s more mature than that.
✣His overall attitudes though are still halfway between being a child and being a young adult. His mind is still at that intermediary stage of growing up.


Shortcomings:
✣Slow to warm up to people.
✣Distrusting
✣Large crowds make him uneasy, so at the weyr, while he’s adjusting to life there, he may seclude himself a bit, or try to stay in the smaller groupings of his classmates.

Mannerisms/ Habits:
✣Likes to egg on his comrades in friendly competition. Not ego driven competitions that he dislikes. Usually this is for their own good, like if the extra encouragement would give them the benefit of pushing themselves harder to achieve something; say, like through their training or classes.
✣Falling silent in response to others, creating what can become awkward moments between them.
✣Wry, lopsided smirks that portray his amusement.
✣Sometimes disaffected expressions
✣Likes to sneak out at night to do individual physical training exercises, spending extra time on perfecting his skills.

Skills/ Likes:
✣[Physical Training]:Zairrin works his body until the point of exhaustion often times. Though he understands the need to rest the body for it to be healthy, he has always pushed himself very hard when it comes to physical exercises.
✣[Book Studies]:He can read fairly well, though he isn’t as practiced at writing yet. He can manage fair enough, though. He has applied himself dutifully to both his physical training as well as book studies, because the book studies interest him, and that is how he has learned about the world at large, outside of his mountain home as he grew up. Otherwise, he and the other BMS boys remained relatively isolated for the most part, amoungst themselves. Because he was always curious too, he studied. He always enjoyed what could be found inside of the codexes that filled the small archives room that the BMS camp’s Captain kept. It was filled with many interesting things.


Unskilled at/ Dislikes:
✣[When others feel the need to prove themselves]:Because of his perfectionist nature, it can seem to others around his age that he’s good at everything, because he so diligently applies himself to whatever it is that he sets his mind to. It is much to his chagrin then, that he’s used to being approached by other kids who feel their ego is threatened by him, looking to challenge his skill, proving that he’s not ‘as great as he thinks he is’. Though to some degree he enjoys the opportunity to test himself against new opponents since it lends to his experience, it is irritating at the same time. While living with the BMS, it was something that happened with some regularity. Of course, the BMS camp being populated almost solely by young males, it was probably to be expected, and their Captain generally didn’t do much to put a stop to it. They would learn to settle their own disputes.
✣[Skipping meals]: He’s a growing boy and exerts a lot of physical energy throughout the day. His metabolism is high. But likewise, not eating was used as a form of punishment in a sense, for the BMS, and so meals being withheld make him feel as though he’s either done something wrong, or that he hasn’t pushed himself hard enough. Sometimes if he feels that he has done wrong or hasn’t pushed himself hard enough though, knowing that he’s guilty even if not intentionally, he’ll pay his penance by skipping the next meal or two and secluding himself to go try to fix whatever the problem is.
✣[Haircuts]:Yes, he thinks he looks JUST FINE with his hair the length that it is at. His hair is perhaps one of the few things he feels vain about, because it is one of the most effective ways of altering one’s appearance, not to mention one of the few ways that he has to express himself through his appearance. His choice of clothes to wear is limited and the BMS boys tend to be garbed relatively the same, so his hair was one thing he could ever change about himself. Likewise, once the BMS boys came of an age to travel to Southern Telgar Hold to join the Hold Guard there, some boys cut their hair to symbolically cut ties with the rest of the BMS, so that they could join the Hold Guard and make their Captain proud in how they put their skills to use. But Zairren isn’t ready to cut ties with them yet. At least, he is not sure he’s ready to strike out on his own. He still feels a need for that deep connection to the BMS.


Fighting Style/ Weapon of Choice:
He was trained by the Blood Moon Squad, and so his skills are in a variety of armaments, from knives and swords to throwing implements and staves to bows. Though, he’s not necessarily exceptionally skilled in all of the above; he’s just received at least the required training for it. He has also been taught to recognize various herbs or venomous animals (common to Telgar) and how to extract their poison; or help rid someone of their poison effects.
He does have a slight preference for his sword and hand to hand over anything else.

:: Crafter Information ::
Craft:
Hold Guard

Turns in Craft:
8 turns

Rank:
Junior Journeyman. This was acquired at an age younger than most because he started young in his training, as did most of the Blood Moon Squad’s boys, given their special circumstances.

Location of Journeymanship:
Blood Moon Squad camp

Specialization:
No real specialization yet. Hadn’t really gotten to that point in his training, though he shows a preference for his sword or long knife, and also hand to hand combat.
Unlike most trainees his age, or even most beginning journeyman guardsmen, the BMS has given him some experience with stealth training. He has also been subject to the intake of poison in small doses to toughen his body’s response to it.