Pellor and Qwicath's record
Search T'remal, brown Lorth's rider, had found his way to Crom in search of promising candidates for the latest clutch, but he had no luck yet. Now, touring the hold with the Lord Holder, he became even more disturbed. Was there even one promising candidate? Relieved to see the lower caverns once again, he knew his visit was almost over. "Lorth, have you seen anyone that may stand a chance?" T'remal asked his dragon silently. "Hardly," came the reply. Reaching the courtyard, and his waiting dragon, T'remal thanked his host and climbed aboard Lorth's neck. Namri, his gold fire lizard claimed her perch on his shoulder, wrapping her tail around his neck. Effortlessly, the dragon sprang into the air passing the fire heights. It was then that the circle of boys, far from the hold, caught T'remal's eye. Something about their manner was not right. Returning to the courtyard, he quietly slipped from Lorth's back and began making his way over to the rowdy bunch. As he approached them, he heard 6 boys taunting another boy. This young fellow was considerably larger than the others, but only in width. He had dark brown hair that hung in locks that covered his eyes. They all looked like they were barely 13 or 14 and with each word they spoke, it was accompanied by a deft punch to their victim. "Pellor! Did you save anything for the ovines? Aparently not. Pellor's so fat. Look at his cheeks! Hey, Pellor, does your mom have to grease your sides to get you through the door to the lower caverns? Did you know Pellor has a dragon's two stomachs. He never stops eating." Young Pellor tried fiercely to keep his composure and ignore the jibes, but there came a point when it became too much for the lad. With all the speed his plump body could muster, her broke free of the cruel crowd. His act of excape was met with triumph from the other boys as they gave chase. T'remal could watch no more of this. As Namri flew to Pellor's defence, T'remal charged towards the boys realizing that they would probably catch Pellor before he got there. Lorth, furious as well, took his own initiative, gracefully sweeping down to pluck Pellor from the ground. "HE will not be treated in such a way!" Heaving the shaken boy in the air, his strong wings lifted them up away. Within seconds, Pellor found himself back in the courtyard of the hold. The bullies, seeing their prey rescued by a dragon made themselves scarce before T'remal reached them. By the time T'remal returned to the courtyard, Pellor had composed himself although he would not budge from Lorth's side. "The fat one will come with us. He will make a good dragonrider," Lorth told his rider. "Well, young man," said T'remal, turning to Pellor, "Lorth's told me you'll be coming back with us." "I know. Lorth told me I am to be a candidate at the hatching," Pellor divulged as his face displayed a shadow of hope. "You must be special if he choose to talk directly to you." "He is. He has a good heart and cares about others unlike THEM." Both heard the dragon's remarks. After bidding his mother farewell, Pellor, not without some difficulty, climbed to Lorth's neck behind T'remal for a journey that would change his life.
History Just after Pellor came to the weyr, I was able to talk to him and find out more about his background. You see, he came to the weyr under very different circumstances than the other candidates. Pellor's mother worked in the lower caverns in Crom after her husband died in the mines. Her young son, only 4 at the time, accompanied her everywhere she went. As a child he was given all the food he liked, and his mother saw to it he never went hungry. Perhaps she tried to hard. Pellor was never a small child, and just seemed to pack on the weight. The other boys saw him as different and took it upon themselves to make his life miserable. Daily he was taunted, pinched, and punched. It was a contest to them to see how much skin they could pinch. Pellor knew he was fat, and as much as he tried to remedy the situation, he just couldn't say no to good food. The more he weighed, the less energy he had and the less he went outside to work. Instead, he preferred the inside of the hold where he could stay close to the Lower Caverns. The bullies never bothered him when he stayed inside. Every so often, he would have to leave and gather greens, or other herbs for his mother. It was on one of these erands that Lorth had plucked him out of reach of his persecutors. According to him, that was the best day of his life. Now, in the weyr, he was slowly gaining confidence. T'remal himself insisted that they boy was not brought because he was in trouble and needed to get out, but rather, because Lorth was certain they boy was to Impress a hatchling.
The Egg Upon arival at the Weyr, Pellor began making friends. As he did so, the unruly dark hair that had previously covered his eyes, began to be pushed back revealing beautiful, innocent, amber eyes. Little by little his smile became more prevalent, although his eating habits stayed true. In the weyr, he was still the plump Pellor he had always been, but at least here, the boys were giving him a chance. As luck would have it, one of the other candidates, Zanan, was priveledged enough to stumble accross a fire-lizard clutch. Returning to the weyr, he presented his find to the weyrwoman. Immediately, the rumors began flying as to who would be a lucky recipient of one of the precious eggs. There were only seven, but countless hopefulls. At last, it was decided that the recipients would be chosen through a drawing. All who were interested were instructed to inscribe their name on a small piece of hide, with the lucky seven to be drawn out randomly by the lad who found the eggs. Anxiously, they gathered for the drawing. Pellor, hoping at least to Impress one of the lizards, since he wasn't at all sure he'd ever Impress a dragon, judging by the looks of the other candidates, took his place in the crowd. One by one the names were picked and the lucky winners presented with an egg. When the fourth name was called, Pellor almost missed his name. Instantly he was hustled up to the four remaining eggs by his peers. This time, the hustling was accompanied by cheers of praise and encouragement that fully contrasted that horrible incicence with the hold boys the day he was Searched. With reverence he accepted the egg and for the longest moment, could do hardly more than stare at the wonderful gift as a tear escaped his eye.
Dusk A sevenday after his arrival at the weyr, Pellor had changed quite a bit. He had made a few friends, and he started feeling better about himself, as was noticed in the improvement of his appearance. And then there was the egg. Zanan, one of the other candidates had found a fire-lizard clutch which he brought to the weyrwoman. Through luck of the draw, Pellor was awarded one of the eggs. (see above) Now, as Pellor lay on his cot in the candidate barracks, he thought of his precious egg, covered in the warm sands brought just hours ago. Warm in his furs, and content, he closed his eyes as his mind began to slip into pleasant dreams. On the verge of falling asleep, Pellor was awakened by a cracking sound. Instantly, he threw back the furs and was beside his little egg as he watched the long fractures from on its surface. Panicking, he rumaged for the wherry-meat he had secured for this purpose. As an afterthough, he also snagged the left-over dinner he had been saving for a midnight snack. Then, to his joy, the egg split in half revealing the most beautiful gold lizard he had ever seen. Gently, he extended his hand containing a portion of the wherry meat as he coaxed the little beauty onto his arm.
His mind was racing. A Queen! He had been given the queen egg! How beautiful and daintily she ate while at the same time, devouring the meat with the voracious hunger of starvation. How he loved his new friend, Vartiat. Yes, Vartiat was a perfect name for her. As Vartiat's hunger subsided, she soon submitted to an exhausted sleep in the crook of his arm. Pellor knew then, that even if no dragon chose him on hatching day, he would still be the happiest boy on the Sands!
The eggs are hatching! As the bronze dragon landed in the weyr bowl, Pellor sat in the lower caverns enjoying one of his many daily snacks. Since his coming to the weyr, he had changed much from the picked-on, chubby, messy-haired lad he once was. Now, with a gold fire-lizard of his own, and a candidate for Cnemanth's eggs, he couldn't believe his good fortune. Weyr life had sure changed him. Now, he brushed his dark brown hair back from his face, revealing the new Pellor. Sure, he was still the plumpest member of the weyr, but he was happy. Perched on his shoulder, his queen, Vartiat roused from her sleep as the rider of the unknown bronze stormed into the hall.
"Pellor! The eggs are hatching!" he bellowed as he spun around to find the other candidate. With speed never before seen in the plump lad, he raced to his small room to throw on his candidates robe and sandles. Then, he was on the back of the dragon and between. Now, standing on the sands with the other candidates as Vartiat assumed her usual position on his shoulder, he began to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. Nevertheless, he stood firm in the close ring made by the youth awaiting the hatching. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw his friend T'remal, the brown rider who had found him on search. Before he could wave, his attention was caught by the crack of the first egg. It was a brown! Then, more and more eggs cracked. Vartiat was alert and humming with the dragons surrounding the grounds. When two bronze hatchlings tumbed out at once, Pellor knew one of them was for him. Clumsily, as best as he could, he ran towards one of them, as Vartiat, now airborn, trilled her approval. When they met, they colliding into a hug as Pellor was heard to say, "Qwicath, my friend." As he led his dragon out, T'remal met them. "P'lor, I knew you would do it. Congradulations!"
Practice
Bronze Qwicath was one of the larger bronzes. He was also very strong. He had to be, because P'lor was a large boy. At 15, P'lor was the plumpest member of Jerdan Weyr. He had grown an inch or two in height since he came to the Weyr, as well as a few inches around his waist.
Together with the rest of the weyrlings, Qwicath sprang into the air. In their pre-assigned positions in the weyrling's wing, they waited for the signal to go Between. In his mind he heard Qwicath's request, "When practice is over, I need to eat. All of those meatrolls you have been eating are making me hungry." Only then did P'lor realize that his appetite had an effect on his poor beast. "I'm sorry Qwicath. We'll go right after practice." Determined to overcome his obsession for food, P'lor tucked the rest of the meatrolls back into his sack and firmly tied it shut.
|
