Strongly built of rusty nails: scrappy and rough-edged, this figure of young male has a repressed motion. A readiness, an ease, to both physique and the line of an often-present smile. His hair is long, probably past shoulder if it was down, of a coppery red, thick and often escaping the ponytail at his neck. He made the attempt at least, but wavy bits of it fall forward constantly to often-stubbled cheeks. Eyes are a bright, medium blue, more of the ocean than of the sky. He wears a faded green kerchief around his neck, over the open front of a working man's tan shirt, the sleeves generally rolled high over roughened forearms to the elbows. His arms and face are tanned, a healthy warmth of outdoors, perhaps a hint of an old sunburn from a day that went just a bit too long. Dark brown pants are well-worn, but sturdy and comfortable; boots generally caked with mud, as most of him can often have similar splatters of clay or dust, but he wouldn't be considered dirty… just comfortable. Real.
Relion grew up with two younger sisters in a smll cothold outside of Island River Hold. His father was an active sailor, who met his mother through her woodworking craft: she was an experienced shipbuilder of Island River Hold. Relion's father was often at sea, leaving his mother to juggle both work, and also to raise the children by herself when he was away. Relion himself grew up just as much with the neighboring families as he did with his own, particularly running with the boys of a Beastcraft family, who herded and bred the herdbeasts and caprines of the area. Relion was excellent with the animals; he had a natural touch with them, and could coax and ease even a worried, scared herdbeast back to a pen. It was actually just an empathy with living things, more than just herdbeasts, though that's where his mother first noticed it. She asked him if he wanted to go to the Beastcraft Hall in Keroon, to learn the trade; at 13, he thought she knew best for him, and accepted this.
Eager to learn and willing to study hard, Relion learned the general beginner's classes in beastcraft. At least, for two years, anyway. He found out more about himself while he was away from home, and decided that he wanted to follow in his mother's direction of craft: he wanted to work with lumber, in the forests. And so instead, he was transferred to Lemos Hold, to attend the classes in the woodcrafting trade. He was a strong and fit hand, quick to finish his work and never shirking a heavy or uncomfortable job. He was particularly prone to a focus on the mill work as well as tree felling, more than he was a carver. Walking outdoors and working in the trees somehow fit to him. He was successful in his area, and he was able to send money home to help with his sisters, until they began working (a cook and a weaver), and money became less tight. He was sent to varying locations depending on need, and freely and eagerly accepted the chances to see new places.
After time in Fort Weyr, he was searched by the Xanadu brownrider Marte, and sent as a Candidate to stand on the Xanadu sands.
|Rethor||Father||Island River Hold||Seacraft|
|Theria||Mother||Island River Hold||Woodcraft|
|Lirai||Sister||Island River Hold||Weavercraft|
|Irela||Sister||Island River Hold||Bakercraft|
Standing Outside the Fire Bronze Turlath
Soot and ash seem spread unevenly upon aged bronze hide, creating shadows where shadows should not be found and making bulk seem more then it really is. A wide head with eyes ringed in coal smudges over aged bronze pours up and over well pronounced eyeridges then down along the proud arch of his neck. Flames flicker and come to life upon stout shoulders turning the hues to molten brightness that flows out onto whisper thin spars that portray firelight while thick spars resemble charred wood. Over back and hindquarters returns that aged bronze, smudged and marred by flaky ash, legs mottled by a greenish patina that gives way to onyx claws upon large feet. Like the rest of him, the tail that sweeps out behind him is thick, stout perhaps, tapering down in girth slowly to the wide spade at its end where the only true traces of pure bronze is seen.