R'hyn and Bronze Xermiltoth


Gender Male
Former Name Heryn
Current Home Xanadu Weyr
Place of Birth Ista Island
Wing Position Weyrleader
Hair Light Brown
Eyes Blue-Grey

Standing at a few inches over six feet, R'hyn is the sort of well-muscled character that looks like he could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll. His hair is a warm shade of honeyed brown, and is usually kept in a neat undercut, longer fringes left to sweep down over low, thick eyebrows. Up close, it's easy to tell his is a face built for smiles, and impish ones to boot, small wrinkles already forming at the corners of blue-grey eyes. He probably even has dimples, the bastard. A long scar arcs from his temple to the base of his skull, broken only to notch the tip of his left ear, while scruff and stubble lines a strong jaw. It's well-kempt, clearly kept for effect rather than any sort of laziness.

This seems to be a running theme for R'hyn. His entire look is on the calculated side of casual, always clean and only just rumpled enough to make it seem like he could care less. He isn't vain, per se, but it never hurts to put forward a good appearance, and so he does. Soft shirts stretch over a broad chest, sleeves raised if long, doing nothing to hide a series of tattoos that curl up each arm from wrist to shoulders. Accessories are sparse, a silver ring on his left hand, with the occasional leather cuff on the right. A long-time resident of warm islands, he usually wears shorts and sandals in summer months, but when weather or duty requires, he's only too willing to don dark grey leathers accented with streaks of bronze and gold and a pair of boots that lace to the knee. His knot marks him as residing in Xanadu weyr, a curious badge depicting a wherry rampant punched through the cords adding a flair of defiant amusement.



The beginning of Heryn's life was a rocky one - the ocean took his father mere months after his birth, and disease claimed his mother not long thereafter. He lived with his grandmother for a time, but she was elderly and frail to begin with, and before long she was deemed unfit to raise him due to negligent levels of memory loss. At a young age, they moved to live with his mother's sister in a small cothold at the island's apex, where grandmother and aunt both died in a series of earthquakes that rocked Ista a few turns later. After that, he was passed from foster to foster, until he finally struck out on his own in an attempt to escape abuse.

At first, he took what work he could get, helping the farm craft with harvests, or roving the decks of various sea craft vessels delivering goods or fishing off the island's black shores. It was aboard these ships that Heryn was introduced to the concept of liquor, which more or less fueled a predictable series of angst-ridden, woe-is-me teenage turns where he waxed poetic about the trials and tribulations of his early life. It wasn't until he visited Half Moon Bay's Tiki Lounge that he learned beverages could be made into an art form, rather than a means to an end.

To say the whole concept revolutionized Heryn's life would be an understatement. Woes replaced with interest, he immediately put in to work as a bus boy for tables at the lounge, dedicating free time to studying the bar's common drinks, their components, and flashy serving techniques. The science of mixology fascinated him more than any harper's lesson ever had, and it was only a matter of time before he moved up to being a bartender for the island weyr. Though he ran odd shifts at the start, he's recently become a more visible face around the lounge, and with regular hours, the weyr at large.

Of course, with an increase in visibility comes an increase in attention - namely the attention of a one Czaiath, who saw fit to search the bartender for Half Moon's upcoming clutch. Heryn threw himself into it unthinkingly at first, thrilled for the idea, and more than a little thrown by its actual execution. The man learned a variety of lessons, from the usual to the emotional and everything in between, several months of intense time spent with his fellow candidates finally resulting in a hatching held one late, muggy afternoon.

Initially scared out of his mind, Heryn quickly adapted as several friends impressed, concern swiftly giving way to excitement for changes in their lives — as well as his own, in the form of harlequinned bronze Xermiltoth. It would be lovely to say his troubles stopped there, new beginnings marking the end of tribulations, but that would be a lie; mere moments after completion of their final weyrling lesson, it broke that several of the weyr's children had been kidnapped, Ila'den taken along with them in a botched rescue attempt. Exhausted, frustrated, R'hyn tried to wait out lockdown and curfew, but eventually folded, leaving his dragon behind to sneak out of the weyr and trace the wilderness with the former renegade's nephews, with little luck. Months passed before their rescue, children terrorized, Ila'den damaged, R'hyn with another black mark on his soul, most every day since an uphill battle fought against anxiety and paranoia that maybe it will happen again.

At least it hasn't stopped him from living. On the contrary, Ila'den's recovery brought with it a series of life changes spread over the turns since - a burgeoning relationship, eventual weyrmating, a change in profession, children, and not just those he picked up and started to call his own. Xermiltoth, too, finally caught gold, resulting in his first clutch of dragonets - dragonets that included, of all things, gold Ilyscaeth, whom would impress to none other than his best friend, Cita. It's all been a bit of a blur of emotion, but despite trials and tribulations, one thing stands true: they will not throw away their shot.

Immediate Family

Name Relation Location Age
Ila'den Weyrhusband Xanadu Weyr +20T
Citayla Weyrbestie Xanadu Weyr -8M
Risali Step-Daughter Xanadu Weyr -3T
Veliren Step-Son Xanadu Weyr -4T
Akiva Step-Daughter Unknown -5T
Kielric Step-Son Xanadu Weyr -6T
Ibsyglei Daughter Xanadu Weyr -23T
Heribly Daughter Xanadu Weyr -23T
Ciardyn Son Xanadu Weyr -24T
Aevien Daughter Half Moon Bay Weyr -25T
Yzaelia Daughter Xanadu Weyr -25T
Zyriden Son Xanadu Weyr -28T
Skyllar Son Xanadu Weyr -31T
Ardyn Daughter Xanadu Weyr -31T
Kitahny Daughter Xanadu Weyr -32T
Eirlys Son Xanadu Weyr -32T
Kalyri Daughter Xanadu Weyr -32T


Original Bronze Holderist Xermiltoth
The base coat of this dragon's hide is a deep, dark bronze. Clearly, he was left in the oven a bit too long since it's hard to tell that he's a bronze at all until the light catches him just right and then he glows with the polished gleam of copper. A faint, jagged crickle-crack of brassy gold starts at the midpoint of his finely arched neck and grows brighter and brighter across his middle before fading again down his legs and finely boned tail. The dorsal side of his wingsails are copper and brass speckled brown, fading to the color of rich loam along the trailing edges. In sharp juxtaposition, the undersides of his wingsails are a bright harlequin of obscure bronze hues in red, blue, and green, shaped into diamonds spliced apart by white, black, and brass lines that start strong along the wingbone, then fade to that same loamy brown. One might almost call his sharp features aquiline, if the term were applied to dragons, and deep blue speckles his lower jaw and up over his headknobs, which end in jagged flares of gold, like antlers painted upon his hide. His neck and backridges are unusually rounded, more like buttons than ridges, really, and seemingly painted a pure brass to counteract the darkness of his hide. Even in his youth, his firm muscle definition is obvious and his strength pronounced beneath his shimmering hide.


There Is No Dana, Only Zuul Green Firelizard Zula
This hatchling is green, but not like a ugly green more like a typical green perhaps, at least in color. Bright eyes check out the world around her as if she is trying to find something, always looking. Headknobs rest above both eyes, and end in faint points almost like horns, more smaller bumps run across to the center of her neck. Wings are short, yet have wide sails, color pale yellow with faint green dots across each. Her tail is long, ending in typical fashion, while sharp little talons rest upon her grabby little toes. She is one that likes to think, one that perhaps thinks she was suppose to be something other then a green, but she does not let her simple color hold her back. If ever here was a trouble making, or tricky green this would be her.
Thank you, Sunny! <3

What's The Rush? Blue Firelizard Gred
This particular blue firelizard is more than a little off-putting. He's small, certainly, but built with strength. In him, form follows function and that function is, clearly, to be a hunter among 'lizard-kind. His muzzle is short but powerful, his neck and tail and body in perfect proportion. His neckridges are short and slicked back, while his claws are anything but short. His hide is an unnatural shade of blue, a blue that's somewhere between midnight and purple - it looks greasy, with streaks and bands of lighter and darker purplish-blues sliding along to create a disconcertingly plated pattern on his limbs. His wings are efficient constructions, the dark blue of his hide continuing through his wingsails. The only patterning on his wings are the visible veins of ichor that feed them, creating an odd, weblike design.
Thank you, Aggie! <3

THIS IS HOW WE GET ANTS Brown Firelizard Donut
There's no other descriptor more appropriate for this firelizard than 'fat.' He is rotund to the extreme, wings stubby if only in comparison to his sheer girth. Some of it might be muscle under there - he certainly doesn't seem to have any trouble lifting or carrying things, but usually the effort is entirely dedicated to the lifting and carrying of food rather than anything useful. When not spied gorging his face with foodstuffs (which is often, even without his owner's assistance - who can resist a pudgy brown bubble with overlarge, whirling eyes?), he is often found napping in a sunbeam or in front of a hearth. Though he is but a simple flit in mind and preference, his hide is a delightful melange, a lovely toasted dark brown drizzled with streaks of near-black and near-white. Pale caramel pools down his spine and across wide wings, and is sprinkled liberally with flecks and dashes and shapes of all sorts in every shade of brown imaginable.
Thank you, Ila! <3

Gonna Be a Mighty King Bronze Firelizard Asante
Asante is… eclectic. Ila'den says he's just special; R'hyn argues the man dropped him while he was still in the egg. Regardless, there's no denying his actions tend towards the wildly acrobatic and not-entirely-normal, preferring to hop and glide and generally make a nuisance of himself rather than actually fly. If he weren't so weird, he might pass as an attractive flit, a luscious golden-brown at base with a mane-like whorl of dark browns and black striping that focuses around headknobs before skating down his back. Talons are long and sharp and dig in indiscriminately while he bounces on shoulders to a tune of his own.
Thank you, Ila! <3

It Wasn't the Sun Risking Its Ass Gold Aloy
Tough as nails is this little queen and certainly no dainty lady! Lithe build is coated in a molten golden hues, lending further illusion to her fluid, graceful prowess in every step and movement she makes. Gilded citrine, polished to fine dazzling shades covers most of her smooth hide, save for where it has been beaten and burnished to a more aurous metallic sheen. It hugs her frame over shoulders and curve of chest and belly, down along ivory banded limbs and sharp pure-gold talons. Sturdy features are brushed with a faded fiery gold, where bourbon-gold is left to topple in dreaded curls over head knobs and down the curve of neck and ridges. Wings, broad and well proportioned, fade to translucent heliodor along the edge of the sails, lending beautiful contrast to the richness of her body from muzzle tip to long, slender tail.
Thank you, Tato! <3

Grey Domestic Shorthair Sibila
She tiny. She grey. She the cutest thing on four legs, with big green eyes and a build stuck permanently on the small side. She's just the right amount of cat for a person like R'hyn, there to warm laps and comfort when needed, content to perch nearby to be admired, but otherwise gone with the wind to care for her own person in true feline form. Sibby ain't need no man.
Thank you, Ila! <3

Mottled Oriental Shorthairs Gremlin, Goblin, & Gargoyle
Cita calls them gifts. Ila calls them demons. Neither are wrong. They are parodies of themselves, agents of chaos, and there are never more than two of them in sight at any given time. One never knows where the third is or what they're up to and they ALL LOOK ALIKE so good luck figuring out which is missing. If Gremlin, food is being stolen (probably past midnight); if Goblin, somebody's child is going to wind up lost (GOBLIN KING, GOBLIN KING); and if Gargoyle, there's always this creeping sense that you're being watched (but that's only a statue… right?). They're all mottled black and grey, with big batty ears and long narrow noses and big yellow eyes that see infinity, but somehow can't manage to see that spiderclaw that's terrorizing you because no, that'd be useful, and for all that they are, useful is one thing they are not.
Thank you, Cita! <3

Silver Domestic Longhair Bitty
Small and fluffy in the extreme. There's perhaps potential yet for the teensy kitten to become a proper cat, but that potential is far from realization. She's a lovey-dovey little thing when she wants to be, and an itty-bitty hellion when she doesn't. She shares R'hyn's unusually undying love for Ila'den - wherever he is in the weyr, she is not far behind. If not, she's likely taken up residence on his pillow. She doesn't leave their weyr, thankfully, none too fond of the outside world after negative experiences the likes of which endears her rescuer to her; indeed, outside of their immediate household, Sundari seems to be the only person she truly likes.
Thank you, Sunny! <3


R'hyn has been in 57 logs in Xanadu Weyr. For Half Moon logs see his former wikipage.

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