Pitch would not be blacker than J'van's hair, the thick locks waving back from his face. The color is echoed in the arched brows over brooding, deep-set eyes, perpetually half-lidded to give him an arrogant expression as he looks down his thin, aquiline nose. And look down he must do, as he is almost 6 and a half feet tall, slenderly-muscled but supple as a reed, with the strength of such; he will bend, but does not break. A smile twists his lips too, not quite the almost-sneer of before, but still a bit smirkish, that hidden glimmer of amusement in the navy eyes also retained - the arrogant expression saved as well by the good-natured tilt of well-shaped cheekbones. Indeed, one could call the man beautiful, if one did not value living; despite his somewhat feminine good looks, he is all man beneath; there is a danger about him, a stubbornness not easily dissuaded - it is easy to see he is used to getting his own way. Such selfishness is tempered by inherent goodness; he was not born wicked, he just enjoys the lifestyle.

Jovan was born the 7th of 8 children to the Lord and Lady Holder of Southern Boll. As an infant he was pale and sickly, and it was suggested that he would never live beyond adolescence. And so, his sire, who already had five strapping sons, left him to the tender mercies of his needy and clinging mother, who was dissatisfied with her lot in life (being used only for childbearing as she was - Jovan's father kept many mistresses). She coddled him and treated him like a fragile toy throughout his childhood, despite his turning out to be just as hale and hearty as the rest of his siblings. Despite her attempts to keep him firmly under her thumb, learning the art of charming her lady friends and acting the lady's maid and becoming a perfect gentleman, he escaped more often than not to ride runners with his brothers or swim in Southern Boll's oceans. However, he didn't bother to correct everyone's opinion that he was frail - it kept him from having to do real work, after all.

His life as he grew older followed a regular pattern, and one that wasn't arduous, and most times even pleasant, especially after he became old enough to find dalliance with the cotholders' daughters an enjoyable pasttime. Unfortunately, this was also his downfall. Angered by the growing number of stories concerning his youngest son's escapades, the final straw was when Jovan was accused of fathering a brat on one of the girls. In a rage, the Lord Holder told Jovan he was going to ship him to sea to make a real man of him - a future that didn't fall in at all with Jovan's plans. So he escaped Southern Boll with just a small carrysack filled with his minimal belongings, traveling across Pern to eventually make his way to Fort Weyr, a place he was sure his sire would never bother to look.

At the Weyr, Jovan thought to find less restriction and an easy life - what he found was more work than he had ever done in his life. He had not been there long when Green Maeveth felt him worthy to stand on the sands, and so he had to suffer the life of a candidate, and a disliked one at that (it must be said that he didn't try very hard to make himself liked, after all). More surprising then was the fact that he impressed - and to bronze at that. The several Turns that followed were filled with trials and tribulations as J'van turned from an arrogant ass to a semblance of a real person, finally turning out to be somewhat human after all. It helped to have a nagging dragon who chided him when he was arrogant and hateful, and even more that he fell in love with Eliwys, a goldrider at Monaco, for whom he would move the world if he could. So, there it stands, with J'van surprising everyone with his ability to change. The question is, can he maintain this new image?

Rasnauth

Sun's Guardian Egg

This imposing egg is a large oval, close to spherical but not quite accomplishing that shape. Its surface is washed in the crimson-brown of sardonyx, banded here and there with horizontal wraps of creamy ivory, golden-yellow, and rich nut-brown. Lines of the same rich brown mark the upper surface of the egg in sure, bold strokes, making a pattern that, when viewed from above, gives the impression of flat, hard wings and a bug-eyed head. Along the sides of the wings are strange and exotic markings, and onlookers may feel like the secrets of the egg could be unlocked if those markings were understood.

This egg was described by Yilisa and was based on the Egyptian Scarab Beetle. The scarab's habit of laying eggs in animal dung as well as the bodies of dead scarabs was noticed by the Egyptians. The subsequent hatching of the eggs from this seemingly unpromising material lead to the Egyptians associating the scarab with renewal, rebirth and resurrection. The renewal and rebirth associated with the scarab also came into play here. The scarab renewed the Sun each day before rolling it above the horizon and carried it safely through the other world after sunset to renew it the next day. The Egg theme was mythical creatures from around the world.

Hatching Message

Sun's Guardian Egg ceases its rhythmical rocking, becoming strangely silent for what seems to be an interminably long period of time. Just when it looks as though the egg will move no longer, it begins shuddering, pounded from within by some inexorable force. Bits of shell begin to flake free. Abruptly, the entire egg dissolves, leaving its occupant standing in the midst of the remains, gazing regally about himself.

Fire-Limned Woodland Bronze Hatchling

Slanted sunlight filtering through autumn-browned leaves dapples the hide of this dragonet in fluid ripples of richest golden honey, lending the impression that he stands amid the full, lividly hued glory of an aspen forest in late fall. Sunlit ridges deepen into the coppery sheen of koa wood, limned with tongues of glimmering fire around his haunches and along his neck - flickering tendrils of braided orange and ochre reminiscent of every mottled shade of waning autumnal foliage. Flames of molten copper lick over hind legs and stomach in long ribbons of white-hot illumination, peeling away the bronze shell to reveal an underbelly of aged oak, intricately detailed by the skill of a Master's hand. The very pinnacle of a late-summer dreamscape are his wingsails, carved from the finest sheets of translucent amber, shored and supported by spars of deepest goldenrod, sprinkled with the lightest touch of glittering gold as fairy dust that trickles languidly along the elaborate detail of his majestic wingbones. Faint tinges of bronze, muting itself slowly into the green of age's patina, weathered by time and deepened by whispers of clinging lichen, tips the impressive arch of his talons, an edging of verdigris sharpening the glimmer of their curves.

The inspiration for this description was taken from a memory of being in a Utah aspen forest in early fall, when the leaves are turning color but the sun still shines, lending the impression that one is standing in the midst of a forest fire. This description was done by Yilisa, with some help from a friend.

Impress Message (what the audience saw)

Fire-limned Woodland Bronze Hatchling comes to a complete halt in front of his chosen companion, fanning his amber-gilt wings to their fullest extent, before looking up into a pair of cobalt eyes crowned by sooty hair, adoring shades of blue and green dominating his whirling eyes as his gaze settles on Jovan.

Impress Message (what J'van saw)

Time stops dead in its tracks. The world you thought you knew is turned upside down, shaken vigorously, and turned inside out, all in the space of a single breath. Your soul is enveloped in a sense of complete welcome and adoration, a security blanket of emotion that wraps around you and lets you know in no uncertain terms that you have no need to be lonely, ever again. A velvety voice, cream and honey flowing in a stately golden river names itself...<< I am Rasnauth, and you, J'van, are mine. >> After a moment of nothing but warmth and friendship, the voice shifts tones. << I am also very hungry. Would you happen to know where I could find something to eat? >> There before you sits the [u(hling.name)], your new lifemate.

Rasnauth

Rashnau, the Persian divine angel of justice, who was also the personification of righteousness. Along with Mithra and Sraosa he judges the souls of the dead. Rashnau guards the bridge leading to heaven, and carries the golden scales used to weigh the souls of humans.This name was suggested by Yilisa.

Mindvoice

Rasnauth's voice is deep and smooth, like a wide river as it rolls along at its own steady, unhurried pace. Ever serene, it carries elements of darkest blue and verdant green, touched occasionally with sunny yellow during his moments of excitement. He is a reasonably talkative dragon, not given to babbling, but neither stoically silent.

Temper

The very essence of friendliness and good character, Rasnauth has one of those personalities that will do his best to get along with everyone without being a pushover. He merely wants to see all that he comes in contact with happy, and will do what he can to insure this. He is not the kind of dragon to listen to criticisms of his fellow dragons, or their riders, or anyone for that matter. Any badmouthing done by his rider will be met with a categorical list of the person/dragon in question's good qualities. Likewise, he will not stand still if anyone badmouths -his- rider, as that same categorical list will be launched at any dragon near enough to hear him, though this time his own rider will be the subject. He is inclined to wax eloquent at times, most often on the subject of a fellow's fine character. As he grows and matures, he will gain an air of complete wisdom, able to impart choice advice on any and every subject, but most oftentimes this advice will be tendered with regards to dealing with others, both dragon and human.

When it is time to chase a female, though, all friendliness and cordiality is gone. In its place resides fierce determination and perserverance. He will put his all into any flight he participates in, whether they be green or gold--his entire being focused on one thing and one thing only: to win the female at hand. Should he win, however, he will not gloat or brag. Such is not in his nature. Should he lose, he will be upset that his rider is suffering, but will attempt to reason: << I am sorry that you are upset, but Boruth has not won a flight in a while. He needed it more than I. >> He is not a dragon to ever turn aside the regard of a female, regardless of her color. He is not a flirt, in the classic sense of the word; merely an appreciant of beauty in all its variegated forms. It matters not if the green or gold in question is proddy; he will still wish to compliment her if he finds her beautiful.

His appreciation for beauty is not restricted to dragons, either--if he finds a human woman attractive, or senses that his rider finds her attractive, he will say so, even if that is the last thing his rider wants to hear at that point in time. << Look, J'van. Is not Rhiannoth's rider attractive? I know you think so. Why do you not tell her? >>%R%RRasnauth is a born leader. In his younger years, he will be content to watch his wingleader and learn from his example, not being inclined to cause troubles. If given command of a wing, though, he will reach his potential quickly, commanding firmly while still giving encouragement and compliments to those who do well.

Rasnauth is an avid learner, and makes no bones about the fact that he has much to learn about before going into battle with Thread. It will probably be quite a common practice for him to patiently correct his rider when training becomes either too arduous or too repetitive. << Really, J'van. You know you must learn to create the proper straps to hold you on my neck during flight. You would not wish to fall off, would you?>> He will tender these bits of advice in the most infinitely patient manner possible, most likely being inadvertently aggravating as heck in the process.

As far as personality quirks go, Rasnauth is a remarkably un-quirky dragon. When it comes to oils, he doesn't favor many scents; those should be reserved for female dragons, to further accent their beauty and grace. If any scent catches his attention, it will be a musky smell reminiscent of sandalwood, more incenselike than perfumed. He has no use for fancy things, seeing them as being useless fripperies. If he has his way, his rider will dress in simple brown riding leathers and nothing more. << But J'van, anything fancy will only get ruined, and will make you look worse, you know. >> He has a fascination for wherries, regarding the big birds as being an endless source of entertainment, especially when they catch his scent and panic.

Temper Credit

Baldur is the Norse god of light, joy, purity, beauty, innocence, and reconciliation. He was loved by both gods and men, and was considered to be the best of the gods. He had a good character, and was friendly, wise, and eloquent. He was the son of Odin and Frigg, was married to Nanna daughter of Nep, and had a son, Forseti, the god of justice. Balder's hall was Breidablik ("broad splendor"). This dragon temper was done by Yilisa.

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