Lord of the Wasteland Brown Telaroth

Dragon Description

Dark, burnt shades of sienna sweep over the ravished hide of a carved head and neck, creating the illusions of scars where none exist and heightening the impression of gauntness. For indeed, despite a solid, sturdy frame well-roped with muscle, this larger hatchling does look to have gone longer than any of his siblings without sustinence: the hollows between his shoulderblades are quite pronounced, as are those between his eyeridges and his skull, lending jeweled eyes a sunken, haunted appearance. Darkling dusty tan spreads across slab-sided ribcage, trickling down over powerful forearms before giving way to a dusky shade a hair above black that coats forearms and hands like overworn gloves. Down across long, rangy hind legs, the color fades out, lightening slowly to a sickly shade of nearly colorless grey-brown, that of dying, dryed-out desert earth. Yet there remains some hope for life yet, for the dusty tan of his body has darkened and richened over broad-sweeping wingsails, spreading mahagony richness into a cloak fit for royalty, emphasizing the fineness of the hide strung between strong wingfingers, yet somehow adding to his image as that of a skulking hunter at the same time.


Egg Name and Description

Hallowed Halls of Gold Egg
Bright, sandy gold spreads across the surface of this tiny little egg, little granules reflecting off in a myriad of shades ranging from dusky brown to brilliant aureate sheens to pale tans. Were that all, even with its unusual, varegated coloring, this little egg would be nothing out of the ordinary — but that's not all. One side of the ovoid's surface remains pristine, untouched by any invaders, while the other— a different story. Pictures of all shapes and colors stack one atop the other, crammed against each other until they're reduced to illegibility. Squiggling lines of black cut across copper and white figures that march over brilliant blue surfaces or disrupt black and golden figures disporting over green planes. The pictograms extend on opposite sides of the elongated ovoid as if it had been wrapped in a band of drawn-upon paper, leaving gold to glitter in some places, and colors to gleam in others.


Hatching Message


Colorless Hatchling Name and Description

Darkling Shades of Grey Hatchling
Color is eclipsed by the fog, but even the roiling whiteness can't completely mask this lone, bulky shadow. It's the size of a small boulder, cutting and moving through the fog with a grace and self-assurance that defies its newness to the world in which it finds itself. Too large for imagination to consider it a waif, too abrupt with movements to *be* imagination, it nevertheless has a penchant for disappearing eerily. The fog is too thick to track by the gleam of its eyes, and when it goes still — and it does, freezing just on the edge of some motion — it has a tendency of blending into the background, but that's all well and fine with this shade. The role of a mysterious hunter becomes it.


Hatchling Name and Description

Lord of the Wasteland Brown Hatchling
Dark, burnt shades of sienna sweep over the ravished hide of a carved head and neck, creating the illusions of scars where none exist and heightening the impression of gauntness. For indeed, despite a solid, sturdy frame well-roped with muscle, this larger hatchling does look to have gone longer than any of his siblings without sustinence: the hollows between his shoulderblades are quite pronounced, as are those between his eyeridges and his skull, lending jeweled eyes a sunken, haunted appearance. Darkling dusty tan spreads across slab-sided ribcage, trickling down over powerful forearms before giving way to a dusky shade a hair above black that coats forearms and hands like overworn gloves. Down across long, rangy hind legs, the color fades out, lightening slowly to a sickly shade of nearly colorless grey-brown, that of dying, dryed-out desert earth. Yet there remains some hope for life yet, for the dusty tan of his body has darkened and richened over broad-sweeping wingsails, spreading mahagony richness into a cloak fit for royalty, emphasizing the fineness of the hide strung between strong wingfingers, yet somehow adding to his image as that of a skulking hunter at the same time.


Impression Message

A sudden rushing of silvery white light engulfs you, surrounds you, bouys you up — rather as if the rainbowed fog had engulfed you, plunging you into a blindness of light. And through this mental fog you can hear a voice, rustling just out of sight and hearing, calling desperately for you. Ever so slowly the voice gets louder, the pleadingly soft tenor tones echoing around you without a grounding: « Jesika! Where are you? I need you! I must find you, my Jesika! » Something moves just outside the curtain, corresponding to movement within the actual fog around you, until with a shock that literally courses through your body, the curtains in your mind part, giving control back to your eyes to reveal a dark, dusky brown hatchling staring up at you intently. The voice seems to have grown stronger, much stronger, though the tones remain soft as it heaves a sigh of pure relief. « I have found you at last, Jesika. At least, we can be together, your Telaroth and you. »


Mindvoice Name and Description

Shimmering Veils of Light
Translucent falls of iridescent light make up the majority of Telaroth's mind, shimmering the gammut of colors on the spectrum depending on his mood — much like his eyes, really, but far more expressive. Tendrils of sapphire dominate when an emotion is strongly felt, and contact tends to resemble an electric shock, until you get used to it. His mental voice is a bizarre contrast with his physical one, for it is a light tenor, musical and soft, for the most part, and tends to be very soothing, with rounded vowels and soft consonants — not a southerly accent, but a very aristocratic-type one.


Why?

Why would Telaroth choose you, out of all the other candidates? Well, because first of all, you need someone to protect you from those big, mean dragons like Arolaeth that would make fishbait out of his precious Jes. Second of all, you're someone in whom he can trust and confide all his secrets on — and indeed, most of the time he'll rely on your brainpower to remember those secrets. In you he finds someone with enough quirks of your own to accept him, but a happy-enough spirit to help him ride out the tough times when his icy temper gets the best of him. You're his eternal soulmate, the one to whom he is bound forever to protect, to serve, to answer to — though sometimes, that can go both ways — and above all, to enjoy life with.


Personality (RP Tips)

Despite his imposing physical appearance, Telaroth, despite having tendencies towards being a loner and an ultimate hunter, has really none of those sullen, brooding properties found in some, nor does he take delight in causing pain and strife. But rather, he is an enigma all his own, seeming to be two very different personalities all rolled up into one sturdy, brown package.

First and foremost is his love for a mystery and secrets: any knowledge that he can gather that might, somehow, be useful to someone someday is considered valuable to him, even though despite the fact that he has a better-than-average memory, he'll never remember a few days later half of the gossip he's learned. But it's not just gossip that interests him — he has to know *what* everyone is doing, *why* they are doing it, and *who* they are doing it with… and has no bones about sneaking around to find the answers to these burning questions. Sure, he prefers for people to simply confide in them, or for him to maneuver them into doing so, but if sneaking is what it takes… well. He's a natural-born hunter, and blending in seems to come naturally to him.

Aside from a penchant for hoarding gossip, Telaroth truly is a quiet one, much preferring to spend time alone or in discussion with one or two intelligent clutchmates. He has a problem just sitting still when there isn't a goal he's accomplishing, and he has an even bigger problem when he finds himself with time in his, err, claws. Telaroth, you see, always has to be *doing* something, be it rearranging things in your couch more to his liking, or rearranging the lives of his clutchmates more to his liking — he can't just sit by and take an oberver's role. And yet, despite all that, there are times when he simply goes into angsty mode, and woe be to he who chooses to bother him then: a cold temper runs deep within him, and though it's usually repressed, when he's caught at a bad time, he can snap or lunge out just like his great-granddam Arolaeth, and has no compunction about inflicting minor injuries on those he views as pests.

On top of all this, Telaroth has a fascination with fire. Well, not just fire, exactly, but making *colorful* fire. Not into chemistry? Well, Telaroth sure is, and he has the capacity to spend hours at a time digging around in this part of the jungle or that — and insisting you do, too — to find things to burn or certain types of dirts to throw that will change the color of fire (think: adding sulfer or a copper-ish dirt solution to a flame) Not that he'll be successful, mind, but his idea of a present for wooing the ladies would be a light show like never before, something to show that he's not just a big, brawny man-dragon, but a man-dragon with a brain. And while, of course, when a female is proddy he'll be quick to pick up the chase, otherwise, he's not so interested in cozening up with just any female — she has to be *just* the right one to pique his interest, his 'perfect' love that, aside from you, makes life just plain better to be with.


Growing Up

For the most part, Telaroth will grow in spurts — and that means that one day, he might have a tiny appetite, and the next day, be able to eat several herdbeasts with room to spare. This also means that he's going to need lots and lots of oil — sure, his hide might not be the prettiest thing going, but if you don't take care of it, it scars rather easily, and rough, half-healed scars can be very, very bad things. Rather like an adolescent human, as he grows, his voice deepens in spurts, cracking unpredictably as he shifts from a baby-tenor to the deepest of baritone rumbles.


Credits

Name Telaroth
Dam Gold Isisth
Sire Bronze Kalerriarth
Created By Syra
Impress To Jika
Hatched August 2001
Eastern Weyr
PernWorld MUSH
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