Child of the Alpine Meadow Brown Culmairoth

Egg Information - Hatching Message - Impression Message - Personality - Mindvoice - Inspiration - Credits


A rich patina of tawny umber; like bread toasted to a rich golden-brown, cloaks his broad stocky frame. Not particularly large — indeed, he's rather on the small side as far as browns go — what he lacks in his diminutive height, he makes up in bulk. He's strongly built, no doubt about that; beginning with a large well-shaped head upon a muscular neck that blends easily into the broad muscled expanse of his chest. A short back and wide loins, coupled with well-sprung ribs and muscled flanks slopes down to a somewhat angled croup; broad across the hips. Whilst most of his form is clothed in that russet chestnut-brown, along his underbelly, and downwards along his stocky muscled legs; a paler hue — creamy brown in tone, sweeps across the curve of his lower chest and belly, sneaking upwards along the very back of his haunches and hind legs, and shrouds the total length of all four legs. A streak of that same color wends its way down his wide-browed face, a broad blaze of color against the red-brown of his hide. And across his neckridges, a trickle of cream weaves along the very tips, not seen again until farther down the length of his tail to the very end. His wings; broad 'spars and sails, of the same chestnut-brown as the rest of him — hardly lighter in hue and tone — are meant for endurance and power, and long staying distances.

Parade of Golden Runners Egg


Colorful hues saturate the curving shell of this small egg; the bottom hemisphere seems soaked in verdancy; grassy shades of spring-green and emerald — the texture of green coloration giving a faint wispy shape of waving grass in a great green meadow. Arching above, the white and blue smattered glow of what can only be assumed to be sky rises proudly atop the upper half of the shell — looming strongly over the shapes below. Golden-brown in hue; with patches of creamy-white at rump and along the midsection to form their manes and tails a line of palomino runners stretches across the shell, weaving back and forth; nose to rump across that splash of grassy expanse. Indeed, it is golden runners on parade; showing off their beauty and grace in the meadows they truly love to romp within.

Hatching Message

Parade of Golden Runners Egg gives a little quiver, shuddering all over like a VTOL-stung runner. The time has come for the occupant who has lain within for so long to emerge — to blink into the light of day, and take its first stumbling steps. There's a loud crack, and shards of blue and green shell begin to flake away; a small gleaming wet body slithering free, his nose resting on his forepaws, and wings tucked against his sides as the new-hatched dragon makes his emergence from the darkness that had enshrouded him.

Impression Message

The warmth of the hatching sands beneath your feet seeps into your skin — so nice and warm after many sevendays of enduring the chill of the 'Reaches without enough socks. Here at least, you are warm, and warm you shall remain for the time being — lulled into a sense of comfort. And then you feel him, rather more physically than not, for he's there, bumbling into your feet, and blinking up at you. This moment is perfect — and do you believe in love at first sight? He is there, that small two-toned form, and his little grunting whinny enters your mind, a brush against your thoughts. « Iawen? Can you please feed me now. I am sooooo hungry. I am Culmairoth. And I need my dinner. »


From the start, you will find that Culmairoth's greatest desire is to eat. And eat well. Very little startles him, and he's apt to take even strange and unusual situations in stride as long as there's a bowl of meat (and as he grows older — a herdbeast calf or two) in front of him. He's quite unflappable in this regard, to him, filling his stomach far outweighs even the desires and lusts of a flight — and it will take a very particularly admirable green indeed to draw his attention from his meals in order to pursue her — and other such events that might be deemed excitable and unsettling for other dragons.

For Culmairoth, life is just another day — another moment when he can lounge around and relax, and munch on a herdbeast or two. From early dragon infancy, he's easily managed — just feed him, and he'll follow you to the ends of the earth. In fact, you'll soon learn that weyrling lessons, such as flight training and strength training and anything else deemed important and necessary by the Weyrlingmasters will be in a walk in the park once you can use food as a motivating reward for Culmairoth's cooperation. « You mean, if I do these wing exercises, I can eat? What are we waiting for? » Next to you, FOOD is THE Center of Culmairoth's world, and he will fly through fire and fog (and 'Fall) to fill himself to the brim.

In fact, you will have a hard task ahead of you. Culmairoth possesses little sense when it comes to his dining experiences — and it will be your job to make sure that as a young dragon, he doesn't gorge himself too quickly for too long. And even as he gets older, he'll always insist on that one last herdbeast. « Oh please, Iawen? Just one more? » As his rider and lifemate, it will be your responsibility to oversee his food consumption; too much and he could very well balloon out into a fat pumpkin of a brown, with a whole wealth of health-related problems. So if you absolutely must, you will have to keep him on a strict diet — only so much as absolutely necessary to maintain a healthy weight, and even consultation with the dragonhealers if necessary to proscribe certain herbs and minerals to curb his appetite and calorie intake.

But his diet issues aside, Culmairoth is a generally easy-going sort of dragon. He's certainly cheerful and happy most of the time, and very charismatic and friendly towards people not his rider (in hopes of being rewarded with a food treat) and for the most part gets along with many other dragons. He's not a clingy sort — he doesn't /need/ other dragons around as much as some do, but he's not shy in integrating himself into a group either.

Culmairoth is shamelessly enamored of water. He LOVES water with a passion that nearly borders on his mania for feeding himself. He loves to get baths, and insists particularly that his neck ridges and the tip of his tail — the palest coloration on his entire body — is cleaned to a gleaming shine. He plays happily in the water; either splashing about with his front paws (and usually splashing anyone in his vicinity) or tossing his muzzle through a pond or a lake, and sending up a fine spray of water.

When it comes to flights; this is where you'll truly be a happy sort. Culmairoth has little desire to chase greens, and is too small to be much competition for any gold flights. He's not entirely ambivalent towards chasing a green, should one in particular catch his eye — but as a dragon who would rather eat than mate (or even chase) he's not an enthusiastic participant. Blooding in particular is a difficulty for him; since it seems to him a waste to just drink blood rather than eat the flesh of the herdbeast « But it would go to waste otherwise, Iawen, waste! » so he will likely only chase those greens who do not normally blood their kills.

All in all, Culmairoth lives a happy laid back life, and he likes his lifestyle. He has few ambitions in life, as long as he knows where his next meal is coming from, and truly looks forward to each and every moment spent in your company. While he might be something of an adventurer in hopes of finding that golden herdbeast over the hill, he's not one who truly desires respect and admiration. He's happy as who he is.




Culmairoth draws his inspiration from Iawen's player's Haflinger pony, the one and only Mighty Mitch MRH. Mitch is small, golden and full of love with a desire for two things — food and playing in the water. His coloration is known as pangare — a unique sort of countershading found in certain breeds of horses that are thought to be of more ancient lineage (i.e. Tarpan and Przewalskii's horses and any breeds originating from them such as Icelandics, and Fjords and the mountain pony ancestors of the Haflinger breed) and that this coloration (dark on top and light on the bottom) was useful in camouflage in ancient times. The Haflinger breed itself originates from the Tyrolean Alps along the border of Austria and northern Italy, and is a fairly recent breed (first originating in 1874 with Folie 249, the foundation sire and a son of a half-Arabian stallion, El Bedavi XXII and a mountain pony mare. Known for their golden (although genetically, they are chestnuts as the cream gene does not exist within the breed and thus they are not true palominos) coats and easy-going (if occasionally stubborn) dispositions, the Haflinger has become popular as an all-around riding and driving mount for children and adults.


Culmairoth's egg shows a depiction of Haflingers in a meadow; and his hatchling name comes from the alpine meadows of the Tyrolean Alps where the Haflinger breed originated in the village of Hafling. His sire and dam are NPCs, and their names are found in Mighty Mitch MRH's real pedigree as a granddam (Charme) and a great-grandsire (Michel of NTF). His name is Sindarian and means "Golden Horse"

In all, Mitch is a truly wonderful, charismatic pony who is a great favorite around the barn where he lives. He's a lot of fun as a pony, and it was too tempting not to base a dragon off of him. He's greedy, loves people, and absolutely adores playing in the water, much to the chagrin of his owner who often gets splashed. He's super as a pony, and should be wonderful as a dragon too. :)


Name Child of the Alpine Meadow Brown Culmairoth
Dam Gold Charmeth (NPC)
Sire Bronze Michelth (NPC)
Created By Iawen
Impressee Iawen
Hatched July 1, 2009
High Reaches Weyr
PernWorld MUSH

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License