A'dmar is fairly tall, for a Pernese man - but that may not be the first noticeable thing about him. Smooth and sienna skinned, this man has obviously spent a great deal of time in the sun - either in the Southern tropics or in the Northern deserts. No matter his origins, his darker coloring is not limited to his skin - it extends to his hair, beard and eyes, rather suiting him in its shading. Espresso-colored hair is cropped reasonably short, though long enough to style. A full beard, mustache and goatee are kept fairly close, neatly trimmed and manicured. His facial features may cause many ladies to consider him quite handsome - a strong jaw, full lips, and expressive dark eyes. His nose might be a bit on the large side, but it, too, suits him. Sparkling in his left ear, a golden loop hangs from his earlobe - not large enough to be gaudy, but certainly noticeable, while a smaller golden droplet sits in the upper curve of his ear. On his arms when he fails to wear long sleeves are the black ink stains of a basic type of tattooing, limited to black. The tattoo ranges up his forearms, shaped like the winged feathers belonging to a desert bird. Underneath, should his chest be exposed, is a tribal tattoo in the design of a sun.

The man's frame has a decent amount of muscle, showing behind whatever he wears. He’s not bulky though, rather he has a lean type of muscle, sinewy but strong. He always wears something fashionable, choosing attire that is well looked after, cleaned and pressed, each item paired just right with another. Currently he is wearing a cotton pale yellow shirt that is kept unbuttoned at the collar. Below it, the ribbed purple undershirt is thin enough to suggest and expose the built muscle of his solid body; broad shoulders, a fine, sinewy torso, and a solid abdomen. An exquisite charcoal jacket, sharp and crisp, sits over the yellow shirt, often left open and loose. His long, thick thighs are clad in a pair of ivory slacks that emphasize the backside. As for accessories, a powder blue scarf wraps once around his neck with tail ends left to hang loose in front, while brightly colored metal bangles wrap around both wrists. On his feet, often shining and clean, is a pair of dark lace up calf-high boots or tan colored loafers – whatever goes with his outfit of the day.

History Part 1

Neither climate nor terrain can historically keep man from evolving to the conditions of a chosen life, forging an existence despite the challenges. This was the same for the Quoin clan, a nomad tribe of people, a holdless people, who wander the vast Northern landscape. Their livelihood stems from trade of stories, of goods, and whatever else that they were able to pawn off. Their existence a harsh one, with life spans short. Their language diluted from the regional dialect, making communication with them sometimes difficult.

This tribe, these drifters of the sand dunes, is where Cadamar got his start. He was born to the pairing of one of the chieftains, Cadormer, and one of Cadormer's many pursuits, Andrinna. Cadamar was not the first of Andrinna's children nor was he the last. And while Cadormer extended his family with several other women, Andrinna's family would only extend to four; nameless others having never survived as fortunately as Cadamar and his siblings had.

As it was, the life of the Quoin's took them from Nerat, to the Snowy Wastes, and back through the Igen desert. His childhood was vastly different from what others of his age would experience; it was always done on the move. It tested the children as well as they adults at every turn. There were stints of violence with other holdless or renegade clans, constant worry over being 'taken' by the Weyr or Hold people, unsympathetic natural conditions and sicknesses, and numerous other circumstances that would challenge each and every nomad Quoin.

Lives were gained and lost. It became a normal occurrence. A cycle of life that even the children became accustomed to.

Still, the Quoins never believed themselves renegades. They were a simple (yet exotic) people who only desired a free way of living, without rules but their own to follow. While they didn't necessarily develop religion, the people had become very spiritual over time and over generations, establishing a unique culture within the clan. Most outsiders would view them as barbaric, uncultured, rash and a threat to the way of life in Weyr, Hall, or Hold.

Cadamar, before he came to be in the hands of dragonriders, had experienced the loss and hardship from an early age. Though unlike the way some would break under this pressure, he like other boys of his clan, took up the mantle to better themselves and to harden themselves against the world in all the ways that it mattered. They gained strength and endurance by facing the elements, they developed wit by using camouflage to their advantage, they became ruthless and yet empathic, they worked and lived as a team.

Quoin Nomads

Expanding from the history sections, the Quoins have come to believe in essence of the 'Sun.' While again, no real religion has been formed, the sun is what they live and die by. They believe a child born in darkness (night) is an ill omen and women desperately try to keep their child from coming until the break of dawn (which is why some women die in the birthing bed). They will set their 'dead' on a pyre by the crack of dusk, so they are carried away with the last warmth of the sun. Even a man will try to bed his woman before the last rays of the sun fade away.

It isn't hard to understand why they believe so, because in the night the temperature drops, making the old, the weak, and the young susceptible to death. It is a time when the great sand snakes come out and when the mountain felines and canines creep down the hillsides, and when the renegades or enemy clan poses the greatest risk of attack. In truth, the Quoin's do not like the darkness, but they have learned to conquer it to survive it. Those that don't, go to their deaths in the darkness and without water.

The pictures below depict some of the outfits and styles that the Quoin's have taken in the deserts they live in. A majority of people carry a weapon of some sort, are tattooed, and wear face paint. The only ones not allowed to carry a weapon are those who have shamed themselves. A man shames himself to his clan if he loses /all/ his weapons in duels, attacks a helpless (usually a child - because women fight too) or is taken into servitude (a typical way of avoiding death when there is nothing left to offer the winner of a duel).

Of course, each member of the clan adopts their own sense of fashion from pieces they 'win' from one another and take on tattoos that symbolize their individual strengths. Quoin who 'brother' in arms, will often trade 'blades' as a sign of respect, so each Quoin needs to be practiced in all forms of weapons, since it is easy to win or lose a new one. Common weapons found on a Quoin: daggers, spears, bows, whips, hammers, clubs, knives, curved dirks or swords (very rare, only the chief and a chosen son carries a sword).

When a Quoin fights against another man, if he wins (but does not kill) the custom is that he gets a reward of some kind. The warrior that wins demands the price. The Quoin's claim has no boundary, some examples being: women or children, weapons, clothing, huts, animals, trinkets and all manner of various things. However, no man or woman may fight to claim title - a Chiefton or Chieftess is selected by his people and only upon his death may another Chiefton be raised to fill his spot.

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History Part 2

When Cadamar was in his eighteenth name-day, a made man of the spear and of the hunt, in a blooming romance with one of the gypsies met along the way and rumored to soon take her for a first wife, the band came across dragonriders, dragonriders who believed they were renegades. The language barrier created instant chaos. The chaos created reactions of violence from both parties; the dragonriders holding ground defensively, while the clan fought for their freedom from the 'takers' …

In the act, the woman of Cadamar's fancy was prevented escape, unable to slip free like the majority of her troupe and Cadamar's family. The dragonmen could only take so many with them and they had decided to keep her for one reason or another. A strong brownrider squeezed her back into his chest to hold her captive. Like in some cheesy romance novel, against the pleads of his family, facing the fangs of dragons, Cadamar dove in and attempted to rescue her from the clutches of the dragonriders. He fought them with a valiant effort, managed to mangle one's leg with a spear so that to this day the man would forever limp. They were close to cutting off his head for the insult and wound, but a big brute amongst them saw the trueness of the situation - a headstrong youth in love meaning to defend his lovely maiden against the threat he saw as dragonmen. Instead of death, as Cadamar was surrounded, he was suddenly felled by a non-mortal blow to the head from the big chested brute…

The guard house in Igen held the Quoin prisoners taken into custody, only a handful to be truthful; Cadamar was one. The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman of Igen were taking their time in trying to get to the bottom of the matter, interviewing the folk confined in the incident. The gypsy lady in which Cadamar was interested in, turned on him in attempts to free herself when it became her time to talk. She insisted that his Clan had been renegades and that she was a prisoner to them and would be forced to marry the Chief, Cadamar. When Cadamar reacted, she pointed him out as the ring leader. Viciously as he spat at her for the insult, howling to the moons for his pains of her lies. Swiftly he was brought to a silent part of the Weyr, questioned and segregated from his people.

The betrayal hit hard, harder than the dry heat packed summers and the winters of endless cold. Although nothing ever came of the incident once the Weyrleaders discovered their error in falsely confining the Clan, the damage was done. Those who were freed, moved out as fast as they could, refusing to accept offers of apology from the Weyrleaders. He watched from his confines up above as his lady love fled without a single look back and instantly regretted his choice.

But by then, he had become the interest of a bluerider by the name of R'gui, whom insisted and had managed to convince the Weyrleaders that Cadamar must remain behind. Some say the bluerider used the spear in the leg of a dragonrider to keep the youth trapped there - a punishment for the boy. In truth, R'gui wanted the sweet knowledge of a strange people long forgotten in the swirls of sands that cloaked them.

R'gui was part of the interrogation and had in fact interviewed Cadamar the most and during the most critical times of his segregation. The bluerider had been one of the best diplomats in the Weyr at that time. The more that R'gui heard about Cadamar and his family's way of life, the more intrigued the bluerider had become, the more the bluerider desired him to stay. R'gui pleaded also with Cadamar to remain behind for a time, so that R'gui could find out more about his people in aims to keep such an incident from happening again. Cadamar simply agreed, if only because he knew he had lost the respect of his people the moment he spoke the first word about his Clan. Little do his people know, that talking of them, had freed them and saved them from months of confinement. Cadamar knew he would not have been welcomed back regardless of his reasons why…

The relationship grew slowly between the two, the friendship promising, wary at first but promising as a trust was building between strangers of two different walks of life. R'gui was a man of his word and when Cadamar requested a trip back to his nomad family one day, R'gui relented happily. As expected, Cadamar was no longer wanted. He was spat upon and some demanded he go into exile until the death of the shamed took him, that he should go unwatered into the sands. R'gui was there to comfort Cadamar as his family turned their backs on him with harsh sureness, disappearing into the sand dunes of the desert, his mother glaring instead of 'weeping.' R'gui was fortunate enough to convince Cadamar back with him to the Weyr, because the other outcome would have been fatal…

R'gui had accepted a transfer to Telgar not soon after, due to some need of a strong diplomat, likely having heard the tales of his success with the desert rats - a title most associate with the nomad tribes of the sands. He dragged Cadamar along with, considering the lad had no better offer standing for him. The people of Igen never forgave him for the hurt he inflicted upon one of their numbers. Still, Cadamar had progressed by the time they transferred, his language skills improved so that he could communicate reasonably. He spent most of his time in Harper classes, the rest, living with R'gui. While most assumed that the bluerider was romantically involved with Cadamar, they had never shown anything more than affection seen between good friends, that unspoken understanding people share with one another. A brotherhood, Cadamar would be heard referring it as - others just rolled their eyes and thought it another queer attempt to hide the truth.

Time rolled on by and eventually eggs had been deposited on the sands by one of the Junior's queens. With the authority of a dragon at his back, R'gui decided it was appropriate for the now twenty turn old Cadamar to step on the sands as a candidate. It took a few sevendays to convince Cadamar to agree, in the end he did.

Cadamar had a hard enough time trying to stay his hand against those in the candidate class who whispered about him and his 'renegade' ties and his 'brotherly love.' By the time the day had arrived that the eggs were to hatch, he was an outcast to the majority of the class, save for a few who gave him a chance. The strong clutch of eleven hatched mid-day, spilling out several greens, blues, and browns. Then came a bronze. The main group of boys had high hopes, lifted chins, and puffed out chests. Only the bluerider sat smug and knowing in the galleries when the bronze had inevitably headed straight for the exotic young man, impression made without hesitation or indecision.

Cadamar stood strong during the emotional moment when dragon and man came together. He accepted the new name of A'dmar and walked off with his lifemate, bronze Yarovith. Weyrlinghood brought A'dmar out of his slump. He flourished in training. Not to say that they were always perfect, far from it. Instead the motivation and the passion for learning carried on during the Turn of weyrlinghood. It was yet another 'Clan' to be a part of, another 'Clan' testing him to see if he could survive.

Near the end, A'dmar became a sought after member of the Weyr. Not only were wingleaders bidding for him to join their wing, the ladies amassed in numbers around him. Surprisingly, he didn't seem too interested - in wingleaders or women. Instead, he spent his time with R'gui and decided to work with R'gui's wing. Trade.

Turns would press on by. R'gui would become wingleader and appoint A'dmar as wingsecond. It went on like this for a time. Until A'dmar found a lady love. She was a gypsy, met during one of the trade routes of the day. Surprisingly, even with his past, this woman was something he pursued - as one pursued an animal upon the hunt. He was relentless. Finally one day, she agreed to weyrmate him and he did so quickly with a hunger that spilled into the public light. R'gui was furious and jealous, as the bluerider had some overreaching feelings for the bronzer, which had never been entirely reciprocated.

One thing led to another, with the outcome being only what it could be. R'gui went so far as to profess his feelings and try to physically show it to A'dmar, which blew the situation up even further, leaving R'gui tearful as he wailed and cursed A'dmar for being the fool. R'gui spat his warnings about the type of woman the bronzer decided to spend his 'life' with, heartbroken that A'dmar would choose the 'whore' over him, a man who had been so true over the Turns to comfort A'dmar through his days. The last thing that R'gui did was spit in A'dmar's face as A'dmar growled about the meaning of 'brothers,' rebuking R'gui for his feelings and his warnings. R'gui coldly spoken one last sentiment that would haunt A'dmar in Turns to come yet: "She will be the death of your heart and soul. She will be the viper in the sands and poison you to all the world. She will slip a dirk up underneath your ribs and forever ruin what good there is in you." A'dmar lost it on the bluerider, breaking his oath with the bluerider who had so long ago offered him a choice between eternal shame (death without the clan) or a chance at a new life. The friendship was over, because of a woman.

In the end, R'gui would end up transferring to another Weyr, bad blood running thick between 'old brothers.' A'dmar would go on to have a child with his lady love, spending several Turns with her in a dulling happiness thick with a fog of facade. He learned to smile, but it was always laced with the sorrow of the emptiness his lost 'brother' was to him. In time, R'gui would be proven to have had the right of it. Turns later, Vinari, his beloved, stole away with Tarimir - his then six Turn old daughter. Bewildered since he did not fathom the reason for her sudden turn of heart, he became desperate to find them before she had gone too far. Despite his best initial effort, the tracks ended at a harbor Hold and the where abouts of his wife or his daughter gone out with the tide. He did the only thing he could think of, seek out help from an old friend…

The bronzer would try to search out his bluerider friend. His search had discovered that R'gui had gotten into trouble with the initial Weyr he transferred to when he fled Telgar, ousted and forced to become independent. The trail of his friend the bluerider, led down to Ierne, and from there the trail did not boast well for the well being of his one time witty companion. A'dmar learned that his 'old brother' had gone downhill, becoming a heavy drinker and often got himself into fights to see if another man could kill him. Nevertheless, R'gui had successfully started a trading company, called Quoin's Airmail and Transport, which burned a hole of regret in A'dmar's heart. The bluerider even had several other dragonriders working for him. The business was booming, all in the honor of A'dmar and his desert bound tribe.

Unfortunately, only days before A'dmar would search for his friend, the bluerider, while drunk, forced his dragon to go *between* as he had done so many times before…Only this time, never came out of it. Yarovith would learn of it and kneen like he never has before. Since R'gui was independent and not at his WeyrHold when it happened, only a few dragons had ever felt the passing of the old blue.

Clearly, the shock made A'dmar languish. He did not return to Telgar. He remained in Ierne, pining over the loss of a long time friend, who he could never reconcile with now, no matter how much he desired it. On top, he was rocked with the betrayal of his lady love leaving him so abruptly -with- his daughter, not even giving him a chance to fix what he didn't think needed mending. He didn't get to say goodbye to any of them, didn't get that chance to make it right. Just as he never was given the opportunity to make it right with his Clan and tell them he had not betrayed them without cause….

Days after R'gui had passed, a message was brought to A'dmar from the hand of one of the Quoin Airmail riders. It would seem the message was not broken, the seal remained. Once cracked, the item was the last testaments of R'gui, and within the bluerider had given A'dmar the business if something were to happen to him. With the emotional discord keeping A'dmar from his home Weyr, he decided to stay and keep the business alive, using each delivery as a chance to search for his daughter - sending home his Telgar knot.

For many Turns to the present day, this is where A'dmar still resides, losing hope day by day that he'll ever see his daughter again. Losing hope to ever feel anything again, beyond the withering guilt that has made cold his heart. R'gui's words haunt him still… She will be the death of your heart and soul….


Name Relation Location Position Age Clan Title
Cadormer Father Wandering Quoin Nomad Chief + 43 Turns Chiefton of Quoin
Andrinna Mother Wandering Quoin Nomad + 21 Turns Spearwife of the Moon
Casandra Sister Wandering Quoin Nomad +9 Turns Daughter of the Moon
Andorian Brother Wandering Quoin Nomad +7 Turns Son of the Rain Chief
Ayman Brother Wandering Quoin Nomad + 5.5 Turns Son of the Snake Sand
Cadomar - A'dmar Player Ierne Weyrhold Business Owner of Quoin Post -/+ Son of the Silent Step
Tarimir Daughter - PC Western Weyr Starcraft App. - 28 Turns Daughter of the Weyr
Cadormer Son With Etzlix Mewling Infant - 44 Turns Son of the Spear
Edzamir Son With Etzlix Mewling Infant - 44 Turns Son of the Wilds
Tazamarix Son Deceased Deceased Deceased Son of the Dagger
Non - Bloods
R'gui Brother Made Deceased Deceased Deceased Brother Made on Grief
Vinari Wife Deceased Deceased Deceased Soft Wife of the Dragon
Etzlix Concubine - PC Eastern Weyr Seacraft App. - 27 Turns Woman of Many Hearts
C'yr Brother Made - PC Xanadu Weyr Wingrider - 4 Turns Brother Made on Enemy Steel

A'dmar has MANY MANY other relations, from uncles to aunts and neices and nephews to other half siblings. He does not have any other children than those listed already. If you wish to play one, please let me know!


Bronze Yarovith

Reddish-gold star dust mars the otherwise untainted darkness sprawling over this robust beast. A green metallic sheen can only be discovered when light illuminates and dances against the black-copper hide, as if the northern lights lived upon his form. A tapered snout explodes with an orange burst, the color plastered on the tip of his muzzle, with a blending comet-tail of shimmering amber swept up the bridge. His head is wide and thick, with eye ridges craggy like silhouetted mountains against a night, in affect producing a permanent sinister frown. Head-knobs and neck ridges follow the same trend; sharp jagged peaks against a long muscular neck. This creature has developed to be efficient, with his ribcage and chest slender, while his hindquarters are large and full of muscle, set on wide sprawling feet tipped with obsidian talons. Due to his size, wings are broad and lengthy, with spars dipped in milky silver and spar-talons glinting with ruddy winking highlights. Behind him, a slender tail is abruptly forked with an oversized spade, very clunky in appearance and awkward compared to the rest of him.

About Yarkovith's shoulders rests a set of brightly colored fashionable straps. Dyed a bright yellow-gold, they gleam in the light, looking brand new against the dark hide of Yarovith. Leaf scroll work is stamped into the leather and the buckles are actually shaped with fern like buckles. The straps have several odd clips around the width, as if attachments could be made. By the looks of it, these attachments are long streaming banners.

Other Pictures

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