In the Maze of Imagination Blue Viambath

Vitrified cobalt splashes eclectic brilliance upon leviathan limbs, angular torso fluttered in ripples of cerulean dappling like mellifluous clouds upon the canvas of damask hide. Deepest blues delineates powerful muscles in shades of shimmering aquamarine, brazen azure sweeping darkest beneath his belly's curve and a fading expanse of sky swirling on tough limbs. His feet have softly lit shades of zaffre whispering along bony toes and tidily arched talons, the meld of colors resonating along twisting ultramarine ribbons on a narrow tail. A slender snout is draped with peacock hues, his finely hewn head possessed of an elegant imperialism echoed by the sleekly tapered line of chic neckridges inset with the same lapis lazuli that patterns his slim throat and flanks. From slender shoulder, a blaze of shadow — indigo twilight, captured and kept — falls to pinion's quarry, darkness rippled into day by so-soft hues to glide a gentle completion to fluttering edges of gold-touched purple, wingsails woven with mighty grace.

Egg Name and Description


Blue Wharf Egg
Soft strokes of blue mingle with swarthy shades of grey and golden, swirling about in a fantastic skyline over the wharf that seems to have made its appearance on the hard shell of this ovoid sphere. Crisp golden streaked soil ends abruptly when meeting the rolled rock jetty that protrudes into the dark, roiling blue ocean, alive with the tis-tossed waves that crest with white caps, aglitter with opalescent moisture as though they were pulling up an ocean of diamonds with each ebb and flow of the tide. Splashes of a thousand colors flicker around the egg, possibly taking shape in one's imagination to be the forms of people, huddled on the wharf, waiting for their ship to come in.

Hatching Message

The Blue Wharf Egg doesn't last any longer in one piece as strenuous rocking stresses the shell. Hairline cracks fall before the scraping noise from within, fragments falling to doom on the hot Sands. The wash of ocean blue roils as it spills over the soil and then floods the ground. As glittering diamonds shatter and tear the waves apart, the egg eventually diminishes to bare fragments, leaving a magnificently colored blue in its place.

Impression Message

Brilliant colors swell through your mind: midnight hues mingle in swirls of azure, faint whispers of flaxen sparkles trace along small flecks of navy. Sapphire incandescence breaks through cracks in the whorl. A faint beating, the distance breaking the audibility of a voice breaks through the back of your head, in an area faintly known. The voice trots closer to hearing, faint whisper of something familiar flooding your mind. Finally warmth swims through — familiar warmth; it engulfs your mind, soothing and deep. Calm baritone voice rings out, in a sweet and low voice enough to make one swoon. « Tiaunnin. I have found you, my Tiaunnin.» Proudly now, fidelity pours from a golden heart. « Your blue prince is here, your Viambath. Me. And, my dear, you will feed me now, won't you? »


Always loyal: you can always count that Viambath will be there for you. He's the image of a true friend, always with something nice to say, advice to give, and commitment for his rider. He's pure of soul, a very innocent being, with a heart of gold. He's true and honest — he is, after all, blue, and darned proud of it. He has pride, yes, but not in overpowering form. After all, if you're caring about yourself, how do you notice anyone else? For him, it's more about other people. He's generous, sweet, a real saint. He isn't perfect, no, and he'd even admit he wasn't. He can have a rather large amount of prejudice. What doesn't he like? Oh he doesn't like bronzes — especially those big, really sparkly, chauvinistic ones - so he is just going to stay away from them, so he doesn't have to get defensive and have to lecture them, and snort at their egotistical remarks, and that's that. Something from his clutchdad, even though he was bronze, has managed to creep through. Viambath will always talk with fluency and most blatant benevolence of words.

For the first Turn or so, he will be as all of the other dragonets: somnolent, growing quickly, constantly hungry. He, of course, being the loyal and proper dragon that he is, will shine. He'll be smart, or act like he is, at least. While other dragons will creel and whine « I'm hungry. », Viambath will try to show them up: « Why, my dear lifemate, Tiaunnin. I do believe I have a small sensation in the pit of my belly - in short, I crave a bit of food. You don't mind getting me some, do you? » He'll constantly be commenting on how happy he is to be around, and on how happy he is to have found you. For the first few months, he'll be nearly worshipping you. After all, you are his lifemate, you deserve it, do you not? He'll be everyone's friend, even if he doesn't like some of his clutch siblings, particularly the bronzes. « Can you believe how that (name) acts? Can you believe I was descended from a bronze? » Yes, Viambath, all through your history. « It's outrageous! » He'll mellow, soon enough, and even befriend a few of the more humble bronzes. He isn't that picky.

Physically, he'll grow in spurts. He'll stay one size, perfectly proportioned, for a while, and then he quickly steps up to another level of size. Barely do his proportions change, though. This will go on until he's full-grown. Which gives a bit of leeway for you — other people will have to be oiling those dragons every minute, how they grow in erratic ways, tail bigger one day, limbs too long the next. Viambath is easier than that.

And in his first flight. Well, that's a bit different. He's blue: small and agile, more apt to catch those quick little greens. He's stutter, though. Stumble, perhaps, in the presence of a flirting, glowing green. He may be able to greet her, but it won't be likely that he'll get a green to swoon over him. In the air, it's even different. He'll be magnificent with flight, and determined. Agile, too, of course. He doesn't need strategy with that, either.

Why Tiia? Quiet. Somewhat detached. Home sick. Viambath had to change that - he saw right through her at first. She was caring - what else should a Healer be? She was smart. She was sly. How could Viambath possibly pass that up?


Spasmatic Sparkles of Sapphire Stars
Blue: every hue imaginable. Azure, with sweeps of navy. Powder with glimmers of sapphire. Azure swept with lively wisps of turquoise. Glistening bits of brilliant yellow wink through - creating everything from gleaming, tiny stars, to full rays of jovial flaxen. A steady beating, sometimes more close to listening to a runner galloping can be heard. At times, a light zephyr lights the sounds, shifting the abstract clouds a variously hued blues. His anger rarely shows in his voice, though when he does get agitated, the stars and rays of light are diminutive, and usually a ruddy color. His mind-voice is a nonchalant baritone, daresay, rather sexy.
Viambath doesn't hide his feelings, he doesn't try to mislead or be deceptive. Rather he approches communication with a atrightforward honesty that leads to usually say exactly what he means — and call a spade a spade!


His name is derived from 'viamba' which is Swahilian, though plural, for 'courageous person'. For pronunciation,
it's however you see it, I'll put the suggestions of: VEE-am-bith or v-eye-AM-bath.

Song Lyrics:

'Beautiful Day' by U2.

The heart is a bloom, shoots up through the stony ground
But there's no room, no space to rent in this town
You're out of luck, and the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck, and you're not moving anywhere
You thought you'd found a friend, to take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand in return for grace

It's a beautiful day
The sky falls and you feel like
It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

You're on the road, but you've got no destination
You're in the mud, in the maze of her imagination
You love this town, even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over, and it's been all over you

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
It's a beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Teach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light, and
See the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It was a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Reach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

What you don't have, you don't need it now
What you don't know, you can feel it somehow
What you don't have, you don't need it now
Don't need it now

It was a beautiful day


Name In the Maze of Imagination Blue Viambath
Dam Gold Frydath
Sire Bronze Valenth
Created By Qyh, Tristjen, Rh'al
Impressee Tiaunnin
Hatched January 26, 2002
Xanadu Weyr
PernWorld MUSH

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