- …So the Queen Boadicea, standing loftily charioted, Brandishing in her hand a dart and rolling glances lioness-like, Yell'd and shriek'd between her daughters in her fierce volubility. Till her people all around the royal chariot agitated, Madly dash'd the darts together, writhing barbarous lineaments, Made the noise of frosty woodlands, when they shiver in January, Roar'd as when the rolling breakers boom and blanch on the precipices, Yell'd as when the winds of winter tear an oak on a promontory. So the silent colony hearing her tumultuous adversaries Clash the darts and on the buckler beat with rapid unanimous hand, Thought on all her evil tyrannies, all her pitiless avarice, Till she felt the heart within her fall and flutter tremulously, Then her pulses at the clamoring of her enemy fainted away. Out of evil evil flourishes, out of tyranny tyranny buds. Ran the land with Roman slaughter, multitudinous agonies. Perish'd many a maid and matron, many a valorous legionary. Fell the colony, city, and citadel, London, Verulam, Camulodune.
- —Boadicea by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Entropy Always Wins Egg
This egg is enormous, glowing with golden radiance. A taut spiral of alternating gold and white stripes circles its narrower tip, wire-thin pinstripes that devolve rapidly, the tension failing as they wend their way downward. Thickening stripes first begin to collide with one another at mid-egg, overlapping to generate new shades; strictly defined borders begin to blur. At its furthest remove, near the thickened bottom of the egg, the colors are no more than a brilliant mix like molten gold, speckled with starbursts of pure white.
Hatching Message
Entropy Always Wins Egg seems to take on an ethereal glow as its straining sides catch the light. Faint striations pierce the shimmering shell with each seeming breath, the tension building with a promise of chaos to come. Just when it seems it cannot take much more, it explodes in a blast of brilliant shards, leaving behind the regal figure of a powerful warrior queen, her chest heaving with exertion.
Intoxicating Warrior Queen Gold Dragonet
The glow of winter's sun warms the sweep of snowy wings; frost gives way to pale, liquid amber as it slings 'cross creamy shoulders and past the curve of a silver-shiny tail. Golden light, filtered through sails' expansive arch, fractures into dazzling disarray before spilling over the argent-washed glory of her hide. Bonfire's brilliance blazes rich and ruddy across broad chest and sturdy torso, gilded armor that sends lambent curlicues of violet smoke 'round her sinewy limbs and capable paws. Regal in bearing, there is still a wildness about her; from a fine-boned face, a matriarch's ruthless gaze sees all.
Public Impression Pose
Intoxicating Warrior Queen Gold Dragonet walks her line toward a pair of candidates waiting, her eyes never wavering. Her wings flick out at the last, balancing her and adding virtual mass: she fills the space around her. Her eyes go to… Jhairecki? No. She bares her teeth at him and snarls. MOVE, is the obvious command. Then she turns to Rhaenyra, and steps forward.
Private Impression Message
Command — that is your first sense of the mind that has taken hold of yours — command, and fire: the icy visage melts away before the conflagration, leaving only heat and flame in its wake. « Rhaeyn. » The voice is rich, mellow, like fine mead. « The world is ours to command. Nothing can stop us. » You feel an explosion of unbridled power, a taste of things to come, and then the flames begin to recede into the back of your mind so that you might meet the whirling gaze of the regal warrior queen before you. « I am Aevryscienth. Together we shall rule. »
Rhaenyra! Rhaeyn! We are so excited to welcome you and your Intoxicating Warrior Queen to High Reaches. You have inherited a disintegrating Weyr, with a mourning populace, and a heartbroken Weyrleader at its head. The good news is that we think you and your lifemate will make an awesome leadership pair who will be able to turn things around, and you will certainly not be alone: Shazi and Tye are primed and ready to stumbl — er assist in your transition to Senior. We foresee good things in our future together and we look forward to working with you. So, welcome, and good luck!
Egg Inspiration
The classic battle of the universe: order vs. chaos, entropy vs. enthalpy. Any system that alters the basic nature of the world is fundamentally temporary, a state of stored energy awaiting release. How long can we carve our place out of the spiraling chaos of existence, and at what point will it break?
Theme Inspiration
History and mythology are full of warrior queens, from Queen Boudica of Ireland, to the Amazonian Queen Penthesilea of Greece, to Daenerys of George RR Martin's A Song of Fire and Ice. Goddesses, lovers, mothers, sisters, sometimes wives, they are women of power, something uncommon even today. They are as capable of heroic feats, victorious battle — and tyranny — as their male counterparts. They are not known for their compassion, or their romance, but for their strong leadership, their charisma, and their sheer chutzpah. This is your Aevryscienth: warrior, mother, and queen. With your help, she will usher High Reaches into a new age. Let's all hope that it's a good one.
Description Inspiration
Aevryscienth's description is inspired by the Irish countryside during the winter: all rolling hills and stark beauty, golden sunlight over white snow. We decided she needed some armor, your warrior queen, but wanted to keep it tied in to the winter/countryside theme: what better than a bonfire, brighter for the fact that it is in such stark contrast to the rest of her. You mentioned how important Bandeleth's wings were, so we tried to incorporate that little nod to genetics, as well as some others, both in her coloration and the language used in her description. She gets amber from both of her parents, though paler than either; they are both descended from Pyrene's Cadgwith, which is where she gets the hints of smoky purple on her legs (which we so cleverly tied into the bonfire imagery!) and the silver on her tail.
Name Inspiration
You said you did not care much about meanings for your names, so we played around with sounds and names, more than languages and words. Maeve and Daeneyrs got jumbled together and smeared around until we found something that hopefully has the feel you like: long and rollicking and pretty. We say it "eh-VRIH-see-enth" or "ay-VRIH-see-enth", but you can say it however you like! Aevryscienth is not a big fan of nicknames, as they are demeaning and undignified, but she may deign to allow you to call her Vrys. Anyone else will be eaten alive (except maybe Bandeleth, who is likely to call her Aevry ALL THE TIME, despite the fact that it annoys the bejeezus out of her).
Mindvoice
From the very first time Aevryscienth touches your mind, you will know her for the queen she is. Command is innate, and regality is her birthright. Her voice manages to be complex and simple all at once, with layers of meanings, inflections and intents, while her inner, most inherent being cuts right through to the heart of the matter at hand.
At times she may say to Bandeleth, « Svitelloth has shown remarkable skill with the longer courier flights, » but what she means is the blue has questioned her for the last time and needs to be sent from the Weyr for as long as possible, evidenced by a raging heat only somewhat concealed by a wash of burning, acrid sulfur.
Fire is Aevryscienth's very heart and soul, and it will often carry along the mindlink, whether it is as a warming, cheerful hearth-fire, a passionate bonfire within seconds of sparking out of control, a putrid haze of refuse dumped into the coals, or anything beyond and in between.
Complementing this inner fire (though at times giving mixed signals), scent will quite often accompany your lifemate's thoughts. It will be wholly subconscious on her part, growing more complex as she matures. Most times, you will likely know exactly what Aevryscienth is trying to communicate, either intentionally or not, but there will also be times the mindvoice is such a mixture of heat and scent that neither of you may be able to decipher its full meaning at first.
As Zsivanyoth stalks away, Aevryscienth's outrage roils along her most private of links to shimmer into your own mind. « He will not get away with such disrespect again » she whispers, voice resonating with anger, though at the same time a cooling waft of sandalwood, wild flowers and citrus mingles with the blaze. Almost as an afterthought, her appreciation of the star-studded line of Zsivanyoth's wingspan cannot quite go unnoticed by you, though Aevryscienth remains unaware she had shared any such thought.
Physicalities
By nature, Aevryscienth will become the largest dragon in the weyr, but even through weyrlinghood she has a commanding physical presence. Unlike some dragons, whose mental presence is at odds with their physical, Aevry is everything she appears to be. She won't go through awkward stages, like many weyrlings do; she won't lumber on the ground, but will instead move with an economy of movement that is the result of obsessive control in all things. She will not be afraid to throw her weight around, to use her physical presence to emphasize a point, but she is unlikely to push to the point of actual altercations.
Personality
You asked for a barbarian queen, and it is a barbarian queen we offer you: Aevryscienth is in turns ruled by her passions and utterly dispassionate, capable of calculating decisions or towering rages. She is, first and foremost, a ruler: her sense of duty to the Weyr is absolute, and she will sometimes scoff at your desire to maintain ties elsewhere. « What need have you of the Herders and their reeking beasts? You have ME. » She loves her home, in all its foibles, and expects you to do the same. While the individuals who make up the Weyr may not always meet with her full approval, the Weyr itself is always beyond reproach, beloved and all-encompassing, and she has little patience for those who do not view it with the same intense loyalty and passion that she does.
And if the Weyr is an unassailable ideal, she is equally unassailable as its head. Woe betide the poor fool who suggests she is unprepared for the position of senior queen. She IS the senior queen — the ONLY queen. She IS the Weyr, to her own mind, and you will have a difficult time keeping her reined in from displays of temper at the slights she will undoubtedly receive. Only with you will some of her certainty ebb, allowing your reasoned arguments to penetrate, your counsel of patience and wisdom to seep in. She is, after all, without any training, and away from the attacks of others she will allow herself to question her own snap decisions, and yours. There can be no weakening of discipline, and none can be allowed to doubt her openly, but in her own heart she knows her own fallibility. She would never ask for encouragement or validation, but she craves it nonetheless, and a compliment from you will always be well-received.
From others, however, she wants no praise and no flowery adulation: obedience and respect matter to her, no more. A compliment on her performance is, in a sense, a liberty taken, an assumption that the giver has a right to judge her and measure her performance. No one but you has that right. If she dislikes critics, she hates yes-men, those who praise and compliment to ingratiate themselves. She has no patience with politics and diplomacy, preferring to let past actions speak to a person's character and intentions.
That is not to say that she underestimates the power of personal charisma or leadership. She herself has a kind of charisma, a moral suasion that comes from her unyielding dedication to her principles. She lives by the rules she would enforce on others, and the fire of her passion for the Weyr cannot be mistaken. Her acknowledgment of a job done well is rare, but when it comes it is always sincere, and there are many who will strive to win that word of unsolicited praise. She will always reward loyalty with loyalty and honor with honor. If wronged, she will revenge, if assisted, she will pay back. Tit-for-tat. An eye for an eye. Aevryscienth believes in keeping the scales balanced.
"Duty is the most sublime word in our language. Do your duty in all things. You cannot do more. You should never wish to do less."
-Robert E. Lee
http://thinkexist.com/quotes/robert_e._lee/
Although she has a cavalier disregard for law and precedent, Aevryscienth is bound absolutely to the path of her duty as she perceives it. Once she has decided a task is hers, she will see it completely well or wear out everyone around her trying to make it happen. One of her saving graces, with regards to this, is that she has a realistic understanding of her own physical limitations and a willingness to delegate. Those around her — particularly those in leadership positions and her own offspring — are hers to command, and she will farm out assignments in blithe certainty that they will get done. Those who prove dependable will gain her trust and confidence. Those who do not, she will quickly dismiss as useless.
This black-and-white view of the world will win her few friends. It will be on you to convince her to give others a second chance, to persuade her that there is a middle ground between utterly dependable in all things and completely useless, between totally committed to duty and without principles. One failure, in her eyes, can undo a lifetime of trust built. The subtler nuances of real human nature will elude her for some years, until age and experience mellow that stark outlook.
Some duties are thrust upon her, and others she will claim for herself. With no mother to guide her clutch into adulthood, Aevryscienth will take that role on herself, but it is a terrifying and absolute form of matriarchy she bears. She loves her siblings, and all the dragons of the Weyr, but her fundamental certainty of right and wrong and her drive for perfection can open deep rifts between her and other dragons if you cannot keep her in check. Bandeleth's easygoing nature will serve as a check for this, but the degree with which her moral absolutism survives weyrlinghood will depend more on you than any other. Death before dishonor is not just a phrase to Aevryscienth: it is a decision she is all too willing to make for others, as well as herself.
"Of a day that Meadb was at the gathering of Cluitheamnach and happened to be preparing for the battle of Findchorad against Conchohar, she said to her Druid, “By whom of my children shall Conchobar fall?" quoth she. “Thou hast not borne them yet, unless they be rechristened,” quoth the Druid. “Anyhow, it is by Maine he shall fall.” And it is for that reason she called each of her sons Maine, in the hope that Conchobar might fall by him…"
-Medb's Men, or, The Battle of the Boyne - Book of Lecan, 351b-353a
No one could call Aevryscienth an indifferent mother, but her attention to her children is spurred less by love than by self-interest. They are a means to an end — expendable — a philosophy which leaves little room for love. She wants them to have a strong maternal bond and so cultivates it, a fierce pride in their accomplishments taking the place of sentiment; though she expects no less of her issue, she is not above offering a token gesture to ensure their loyalty and, therefore, their willingness to do her bidding. She may never lose sleep over a child's fear and loathing, and is not afraid to punish for lack of loyalty or dereliction of duty, but the loss of a favored child in battle may wound her.
Courtship for Aevryscienth is like an intricate tango: full of anger, of passion, of struggle, but when the music is over, so, too, is the dance. She likes being competed over, not just because it is an ego boost but because it refines the bloodlines; she is not above using her own body to make a worthwhile alliance, but she will never forget that the most important reason for mating is to ensure the best lineage possible. Males will have to fight for her favor and only the strongest and most capable will even have a chance: this gold is not likely to even look twice at a brown. Her flights will be fierce, passionate struggles for dominance, a contest of wills. You will never have to fight with her to keep her from eating the shredded remains of her blooded kills, but it will be a battle to keep her from maiming her own suitors in flight. The beast sated, the male who wins may enjoy a period of favor, but, in the end, he is still disposable, and she is likely to eventually tire of him.
While proddy, she will become abnormally interested in your love life, as a substitute for her own. She will be choosing "suitable" mates for you, and describing them in terms all too familiar to a herder.
« He has good teeth, Rhaeyn. He would suit you well. »
« Look at his gait. He will be a fast runner. You would make good children together. »
« He may not be the brightest, but surely you can make up for that. He is strong. If the child gets your looks and his brains you can just give it away and try again. »
She will not at all understand any protestations of emotional connections — « What does that matter to any of this? » — purely focusing on the act of procreation. She will want to see you bear children, and during her proddy times, may go so far as to physically leave the best men in your weyr to wait your attention.
« You should appreciate my efforts. They are for the good of the Weyr! »
Barbaric, yet regal — warrior, mother, queen — this is your Aevryscienth in a nutshell, but in the end she is yours: yours to play, yours to tweak, yours to enjoy. And enjoy her, we hope you do, for we are quite fond of this last legacy of Chey and Mynwiyath, and we hope that she — and you — will be around for years to come.
Credits
Name: Chey
Egg Desc: Chey
Dragonet Desc: T'ii; Shazi tweak
Messages: Shazi
Puppeteer: Chey
Inspiration: Chey, T'ii, Shazi, G'deon
Clutchmates:
L’fei (Feilan) and Proddy Alda Time Green Utonalloth
Dex and Don Juan Triumphant Blue Nazkriuulth
V’arik (Vostarik) and Cosmic Kid in Full Costume Blue Svitelloth
Rhaeyn (Rhaenyra) and Intoxicating Warrior Queen Gold Aevryscienth
Iasri and Kick Up a Row Brown Vosteyath
Jh’rek (Jhairecki) and King of the Alley Bronze Zsivanyoth
Tilla and Marylou Freebush Green Amuirnith
Isabeau and Tarnished Legend Brown Krobeskeluth