He is confidence incarnate. There is no other way to truly describe him, save to point out the particulars: he's terribly tall and lean, well-muscled from turns of hard work - and the turns have been kind, despite seeming to be well in his thirties. His hair is a neatly tended heap of blond that can go wild - but rarely does. Piercing blue eyes consider the world with an air of inscrutability, while dim amusement claims the curve of his lips. His jaw is hard and strong; squared and well-matched to his dimpled chin. Aristocracy forms the rest of his features, from cheek bones to nose to the imperious set of his eyebrows. Everything about him, from his perfect posture to his slightly callused hands speaks keenly of a man who knows his place - and everyone else's.

His clothing is practical, but properly kept. A linen shirt is tucked into wher-hide trousers. Over that is a plain black tunic with red and gold embroidery at the edges; flames, if one were to look closely enough. A thick, black belt cinches the tunic at his waist, with a bronze buckle keeping things together. His boots, too, are black and well-polished; they look new, even if they're far from it. Paired with this ensemble is a hooded cloak and a pair of black gloves that are as often stuffed into his belt as they are worn properly. Last of all is a knot at his shoulder, one that announces him as a bronzerider at Ierne Weyr.


Beranthaal was born to a proud brownrider named Be'al and a flighty greenrider named Anthaa at Ista Weyr. He wasn't the first child for either of them - nor would he be the last. However, among children, he was Be'al's favorite, perhaps because he was the only son of the lot.

His father and mother both took their turns in raising him, but his father's hand was heaviest and the boy took after him - namely in learning how to trade and negotiate and make all manner of deals. "Marks are the key," his father would tell him and Beranthaal listened very well to his father's lessons.

His childhood was remarkably uneventful and the boy had scarcely turned the corner of 15 before he was picked up for a clutch at Telgar Weyr. Candidacy was a remarkably stressful time for him - being so far from his family was difficult and the news that his mother was suffering from some mental disorder was not particularly helpful.

When Mephixath claimed him, the rest of the world vanished.

It was a temporary thing. Weyrlinghood was particularly rough for him and, when they graduated, he was quick to seek a transfer back to Ista Weyr. The transfer fell through - and, as he found out later, it was his father who prevented it, so he wouldn't see the state his mother had ended up in. His visits to Ista were tense and he, ultimately, couldn't stand any of it.

He focused on his father's words - "Marks are the key" - and opted to transfer to Ierne to pursue a career in trading and being a courier. It was work that suited him and Mephixath well; the bronze could make his requisite contacts and B'haal could avoid the reality of what had happened to his family.

Such was how things went for some time.

Just after his 35th turnday, the unthinkable happened: his mother's dragon was severely injured in a flight accident. She and her green were transferred to Ierne, to no avail: her lifemate passed away from her injuries and Anthaa went insane.

He has since been taking care of her - or trying to. His mother has become the "Firelizard Lady", leaving him to care not only for her, but her massively growing fair of the beasts. And his father- well. He's been trying ever since to get his son to transfer back to Ista Weyr in a desperate attempt to make up for his past failure.
Though a great part of him aches to be back home, a greater part wants to see to his mother's care.

The final question might be whether he can overcome the bitterness aimed at his father for not helping - either to get him to Ista or to care for his mother.


Name Relation Location Position Dragon
Anthaa Mother Ierne Weyr "Firelizard Lady" Green Zaaimth (dec)
Be'al Father Ista Weyr Wingrider Brown Xabraisth
Hotaru Daughter Half Moon Bay Weyr Jman Vintner




Something Diabolical Bronze Mephixath

Serpentine temptation twists itself into the shape of a bronze dragon, one that skirts the line between whipcord-lean and dangerously skeletal. There's something sinister to his visage, accentuated only by the perfection of its construction. Luminous bronze claims that face, highlighting the ominous curve of his eyeridges and the forboding set of his headknobs. Such an immaculate hue cannot hold and, as that pure, bronze hue pours down the length of his neck, it begins to change. White-hot at his 'ridges, it rapidly cools to a deeper, hepatizon hue as it tumbles over his chest. That darkness descends swiftly and claims all of his limbs, near-black and ending in refined ebony at his claws. His wings are char-dark spars that form a fine framework for 'sails of smoked bronze, kissed with tempting gold at the edges. The bright bronze of his body and back turns smoky over his haunches, with cracks of molten gold and brass and copper spreading like spinnerwebs and widening rapidly over the span of his lengthy tail. There, the smoke and sparks recede to reveal that nothing is sacred - for the tips of his tail are coppery and dark, ominous in their hue.

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