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Dalibor is a semi-canon Dragonriders of Pern site. No knowledge of the series or site is required to join; players of all experience levels are welcome here. Founded in 2008 on Proboards and moved to Jcink in 2013, Dalibor has been running for nine years.

Winter, 18th Turn, 11th Pass

Upcoming Flights/Runs:
Red Ingoth

Upcoming Hatchings:

Winter is in full swing as the Northwest reaches the middle stages of the cold month, and Dalibor, taking full advantage of a crackdust filled break in Threadfall, is back at it again. Delving into the Southern ice and snow, they have paired with Grove Weyr to fully explore the lands they only slightly uncovered the previous turn during the Jungle Expedition. This, however, will not be a warm and relaxing waltz through the woods; although was it ever that to begin with?
Rayna of Gold Couineth - Boo

Z'dyn of Iron Baihujinth - Rhia

Jr. Weyrwoman
Jali of Copper Laanasuth - Rii

Jr. Weyrleader
Os'nin of Blue Alwanath - Aerona

Norla of Bronze Norsk - Ives

Oreanda of Bronze Osk & Blue Oresk - Ruin
Der of Grey Desk - Rii

K'ton of Blue Ironth- Jenn
S'vor of Green Absinth - Ruriko
Nia of Pink Koeneth - Catsitta

Ijo of Brown Isk - Rhia
Pavir of Blue Pavisk - Captain
Swithin of Blue Swisk - Ives

Ulian of White Rivath - Ruin
Zanii of Black Zansk - Leo





Dalibor was created by Bre, continued by Cathaline, and is now owned and operated by Ruin. Most of the information, rules, and graphics were made, compiled, or written by staff with credit given to those whose resources they used. Stock thanks to credited parties. All characters and posts are copyrighted to the members of the game. No material from this site should be copied in any way, shape, or form without utter express permission from the members and staff. All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's 'Dragonrider of Pern' series are copyright Anne McCaffrey 1967-2017, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with general permission for non-commercial purposes without monetary gain.

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 Morrigan, wherling of red Morrigask
 Posted: Mar 14 2017, 01:13 PM

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21 Turns | WI:197, 10th Interval
Dalibor Weyr.
Age-Out Date:

Committed: Once set on something, Morrigan will do just about anything (within the realm of reason) to achieve her goal. She isn't afraid to commit to something for the long haul, if she sees benefit in it for her personally come the end. Morrigan's ultimate ends is always her own success, or contentment. She believes happiness to be an unrealistic goal, and therefore strives for satisfaction. This isn't to say that her means always has an end. Sometimes she does what is best for her-as most do-in the moment. Her commitment does not pertain to people so much as it does to tasks and goals. Her commitment, in other words, is to herself.

Determined: Morrigan is nothing if not determined. If Standing for nine Turns doesn't prove it then, well, nothing will. She's unlikely to give up on the idea of becoming a dragonrider, even if asked to step-away. She'll fight tooth and nail, as diplomatically as she may, to get her way. If she wants something, she'll have it. She rarely takes "no" for an answer. Her stubborn attitude serves her well in most cases. Mature enough to reason things through, Morrigan isn't one of those people that pisses, whines, and moans. Complaining is far-off removed from her set of traits. She hates complainers, or people who aren't willing to work to get ahead.

Independent: Morrigan prefers to be on her own, and, as such, she has an independent spirit. This independence has made her quite self-sufficient, to the point where she relies on others for very little. She spends the majority of her time alone, and seems, to the public eye, perfectly fine with such an arrangement. Her independence has won her the ability to manage her own affairs. She has an inner strength that is seen in various situations and circumstances. For example, with her having been left Standing for so long at Fort one would think her spirit to be, otherwise, broken. The contrary could be said. She has already talked herself back into the saddle so that she can try again. She has little room in her life for self-pity.

Flirtatious: The young woman is, undoubtedly, a tactful flirt. Not nearly as outrageous as some, her flirtation, on average, is far more subtle. Most are considered unworthy of her attempts, and so it takes a particular someone to gain her special attentions. Even so, flirtation is all it ever is. She has no interest in romantic affairs. The last thing she wants is someone poking around asking her questions, and examining her way of life. She doesn't wish to be accountable for anyone other than herself, which makes the notion of seeking out her daughter rather curious. Morrigan doesn't wish to owe anything to anyone, not in any sense. She takes care of herself, and therefore doesn't need someone else to bolster her confidence, or even share her bed.

Misleading: She can be terribly difficult to place, often purposefully misleading others for the sake of her own ends. Her intentions are not always clear until much later, when she chooses to divulge them. Some have described her as a mystery, and she'd prefer to keep it that way. The only person who needs to know her is her-that's it. Her misrepresentation of her own character is common. This usually pertains to her desire for information, or, depending, her line of work. She's not, in the traditional sense of the word, dishonest. She bends the truth to suit her needs. She fully expects blatant lies to catch up with her, and so she's careful about what information she chooses to fabricate. She's careful in general, distrustful of most people.

Self-interested: It's all about Morrigan, and Morrigan only. She has no desire to "save Pern" or "serve the greater good." As long as she can get what she wants, and it benefits her in some way, than she's good for it. She has zero interest in playing the "good guy" or being "the hero." Such tasks she leaves up to others. It's not to say that she despises said people so much as she doesn't understand their way of thinking. She hates to waste her time, and serving others, to her, is just that. The young woman sees dragons as a part of the people they're with, and so she doesn't orient them in the category of serving another being. To serve her dragon, or take care of her dragon even, would be the same as caring for herself. She is among those who agree that dragons are sentient beings worthy of devotion, and yet she would only devote herself to her own. Dragonriders, while perhaps brave and duty-bound, have done little to earn her respect. It is to their dragons that dragonmen ought to give praise, in her opinion.

{Magdalena Zalejska play-by}.
The first thing people tend to notice is, well, her presence. Morrigan stands at a taller than average 5'10". Lean and curvy, Morrigan has a long torso for a woman. The majority of her height rests in her upper-body. Her hands are a fair size, with long fingers. Her feet, in turn, are fairly large. The only thing small about her is her chest, and she could care a less. The colour of her hair is deceiving. Dark brown strands intermix with lighter strands, still yet revealing both blond, and, in the light, red. Exposure to Rukbat's rays causes her hair to bleach, which provides a suitable explanation. Emerald green eyes stand-out against her dark lashes. Specks of blue can also be seen in her irises. Often she'll smudge coal about her eyes. Her dark brows are thinly lined. Her lips are full, often stained red. Her complexion is fair.

Her nose is sloped, as are her shoulders. Sweaters tend to slip down and sit at her collarbone. Her oval-shaped face is, in a word, elegant. She wears, primarily, darker shades. Rarely does she adorn clothing that is not pitch black. Outfitted with rings upon her fingers, Morrigan never takes them off. While her clothes are not necessarily Gather-material, they are often fanciful and eccentric. She is unafraid to show skin, never dressing weather appropriate.

Wingleader R'gan, rider of Iron Ralluth - Father {43}
Wingsecond Marovel, rider of Blue Hikoth - Mother {42}
Weyrbrat Morgrim - Daughter {5} SU:13

Firelizard - Burgundy Aconite

Firelizard - Red Cyanide [#70110b]
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TW: Flightsex

Morrigan grew up under a strict, militaristic, rule. Her fathers iron-fist, and her mothers burning will were her two closest friends. Some days she couldn't figure out who was worse. Both of her parents demanded total control, to the point where, when she was a child, it felt more like their intention was to break her. Due to complications after her birthing, Marovel could bear no other children. Morrigan had been a fluke as is. Marovel developed a possessiveness over her child that was likewise mirrored by her Weyrmate. Their ultimate goal was to condition the girl to be, for all intents and purposes, the perfect Candidate. They hoped to, someday, welcome their daughter as Fort's new Weyrleader. They decided that, since she was their daughter, her chances of impressing a King were high. Never once did they stop to ask her how she felt about things, and so Morrigan kept from voicing her opinion altogether.

The young woman was well aware, while growing up, that neither of her parents held much faith in the Weyrwoman. In general the pair weren't fond of queenriders, seeming to think that they fell into their roles far too easily, despite being undeserving. Lazy, that's what her parents called them. Morrigan, likely thanks to her parents, or perhaps due simply to her own personal being, held little interest in the Weyr's hierarchy. As long as she could come and go as she pleased, the girl was happy. Having gotten adept at bending the truth, she reassured her parents time and again that her priority, and sole focus, was impression. In most respects it was, which was likely what kept her from rebelling completely. She could handle her parents just fine, as long as they weren't watching her every minute of everyday.

From a young age, Morrigan became rather independent. Her parents would have it no other way, wishing their daughter to be self-sufficient in all things. They took her riding with them, frequently, in an effort to get her used to the feel, and motion, of a dragon. She helped both of them oil their beasts, and was taught as much as both the ironrider and bluerider could offer. Assured that she would Stand at ten Turns of age, R'gan harassed the standing Candidatemaster with tales of his brilliant daughter.

Morrigan, sneaky as she was, often followed the candidate lessons as often as she could. She wanted to be ahead of everyone else, knowing full well that there were things her parents couldn't teach her. The girls drive to impress a dragon was not at all what her parents may have anticipated. She wanted further control, for herself-no one else. She didn't need to control anyone, as long as she could have her way where she saw fit.

Ten Turns rolled around, and she was ready. She stood for her first gold hatching, watching in anticipation as dragonet after dragonet hatched. Each one of them paired off with one of the candidates standing around her. She watched, more or less unaffected. It was difficult to conceal disappointment at her age, but she hid it well. Several younger individuals were also left Standing, and so her parents reasoned that it was merely her age. By the time the next hatching rolled around, Morrigan was closer to eleven. She had spent her time presenting herself as the ideal candidate. She didn't bother shirking her duties, like some of the other candidates she well knew. She did exactly what was required her, occasionally throwing some of the riders a bone so as to grease their palms. The dragonriders may not have been the ones to make the choice come hatching day, but having them rooting for her, and prepared to accept her as one of them, certainly couldn't hurt. Despite all that the girl worked hard to prove herself, she was, naturally, a solitary creature.

The second hatching proved as fruitless as the first, but rather than give up, Morrigan again blamed her lack of success on her Turns rather than her being. History continued to repeat itself, irritatingly. Morrigan didn't lose her nerve, despite her parents desperate pleas to try harder. "Do better," they urged her. When alone, she couldn't help but snark at their obsessive behaviour. Why was she the one responsible for their futures? She wasn't responsible for anyone but herself-never would be.

She would come to eat her words later, not that she could have possibly known. Season after season came and went, and little, to nothing, changed. Morrigan grew more and more independent, and more and more comfortable with her seemingly permanent position as a candidate. She knew the candidatemaster's speeches backwards and forwards, able to recite them word for word most days. Sometimes she mocked him in the middle class, which caused an eruption of chuckles around the room. Morrigan kept herself out of trouble for the most part, enjoying her harmless fun when able. No one could blame her for being bored.

Twelve, thirteen, and fourteen disappeared from sight. They were Turns that proved as empty as the girl (while not willing to admit it) felt. She had developed a tolerance to loneliness. Going out of her way to make sure her days were spent, for the most part, in solitude, the candidatemaster, especially, worried about the girls mental health and well-being. It was typical of Morrigan as a child to go off by herself and play, not one for making friends. Regardless, she was no longer a child, and had made no effort to befriend her fellow candidates. Albeit, none had stood for nearly as long as she. The girls current record of five Turns, while not unheard of, was fairly impressive.

The fact that the teen had never shown any romantic interest in boys was something her parents were grateful for. They didn't want her to get distracted from her main goal. The fact that Morrigan had survived her parents' nagging for so long meant, by her standards least ways, that she must have nerves of steel. At fifteen, Morrigan got to experience something she wasn't ready for. During one of the queen-flights, the girl was caught unawares in the halls. One of the losing suitors, a younger bronze-rider, took advantage of her solitude. The result, in nine months, was a baby girl.

It wasn't how she wanted her first-time to go. She had never even thought of having a first-time. Despite, she now had to think about her child, as opposed to herself. Detached as she was her instincts took over, and so the girl fully intended to take care of her burden. She gave birth at sixteen, an experience she was not keen on repeating ever, ever, again. Rather than pass the child off to her mother, Morrigan's parents took her in their arms and made off with her while their daughter lay fast asleep. The girls where about's were never mentioned. All Morrigan's parents told her was that the baby didn't make it due to complications. The healers, silent as the grave, provided her no further insight. Everyone seemed to be taking the dragonriders at their word, save their daughter. Morrigan didn't believe their story, not at all.

For the next Turn she went around the Weyr unsure of what her place truly was. This she kept to herself, having perfected her "its all good" facade. Her parents assured her that a child would have only slowed her down, and ruined her chances of impression. While pregnant she had already missed out on a lesser-queen hatching. Now that her health was restored, and she had matured, Morrigan's parents bade her to Stand once more. Since she felt it was more her idea than theirs-as she sought to fill some kind of peculiar void that had developed within her-Morrigan attended the next hatching. Seventeen, and ready to join the dragonrider forces, the young woman tried her best not to react with fury when she was left Standing again. She had attended seven Turns worth of hatchings, with nothing to show for it save her candidate-experience, and overreaching pride.

Again, seasons came and went, and Morrigan grew ever restless. Her eighteenth Turn crept up on her, and she came to realize she was no longer a girl, but a woman. As a woman of eighteen she should have had goals, or plans, of some kind beyond mere impression. She didn't. She didn't desire romantic relations, or a family. All she wanted was to fulfill her purpose, which, she was certain, was dragonriding. Her time had simply not yet come. Hating to feel as if she was wasting time, the girl began to dabble in other, less honourable, affairs on the side. Deciding it couldn't hurt to develop skills as a worldly businesswoman, Morrigan got herself involved in the Weyr's black market trade-work. She had a way with words, and was unashamed of her misrepresentation of character when trying to earn an extra mark or two. People fell for her charm, hook line and sinker, and, as such, she had found herself a fun hobby (one that proved advantageous in terms of fattening her pockets). Fellis was the most common item passing through her hands. Never having touched the stuff, Morrigan's conscience was nevertheless clear in selling it off to both the curious and addicted.

It was through her dealings that she met A'tram, the rider whom partook in the plan to drop her child at Dalibor Weyr. The Weyr had been randomly selected, no pre-thought having gone into the decision. The older man, having gotten to know the girl, decided to come clean. Having suspected something of the like from her parents, it was a whole different deck of cards hearing the truth directly from an involved party. Morrigan sat with the newfound knowledge for some time-weeks in fact. Each day that went by, she became more and more... anxious. She felt compelled to act, unable to help feeling as if something major had been stolen from her.

In the dead of night, Morrigan and A'tram left for Dalibor. A'tram asked no questions, feeling as if he owed the girl this... and possibly more. Morrigan, without a true plan in mind, only knew that she wanted to see her daughter. There was a small-person out there, who possibly looked just like her. The idea bothered her, terribly, and she struggled to discern where her true feelings lie.

At nineteen, she still plans to Stand. She has not given up on her aspirations of becoming a dragonrider...

Adoption Preference: Transfer ~


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Red Morrigask [#930303] - Impressed to Morrigan (Zane)

Spoiler (Show/Hide)

From the ashes, life rises anew, stronger than before.

Morrigask is a veritable sleeping volcano. Caution advised. Her ire is an explosive thing. Ruthless and hard to contain, requiring a great deal of mental and emotional strength from her handler. She isn't needlessly or mindlessly violent. She takes no great joy in hate, harm or suffering. She is introspective and scathingly observant, with a deep rooted belief that adversity brings the best out of others. Why intervene in another's personal disaster? They will either break or come out stronger. Rise or perish. Be strong or become the ash that fuels them to great heights. Morrigask rarely hates. She is indifferent (or outright apathetic) towards those that attempt to invoke a sense of pity from her. In turn, she harbors a deep respect for those that have endured their trials by fire and come out the other side. Scars are simply evidence of survival.

Like any flame, Morrigask is an impartial judge. Younger, older, authority or not--if she perceives you as a threat to her or Hers, be prepared. She is immensely possessive over her handler and will reluctantly accept a small circle of 'tolerated' individuals in time. But no one outside of her handler is allowed to touch her. Do not try. Even lovers or children should keep their hands to themselves unless given express permission by the wher herself. Which, given her disinclination to bespeaking others, is rare to happen. Small animals beware because unless given orders to not eat the firelizard that just landed five inches from her face, she will make an attempt to do so.

Whether one deems it noteworthy or not, she is a rational red. Often in repose. Quiet. She doesn't grumble or bluster or growl unless disturbed. One doesn't need to fear being bitten or struck unless they've been activity antagonizing her. She is content to ignore the unproven unless they are in her way and will obey orders from those that have rank. Displays of weakness or cowardice are usually met with scalding remarks, but her temper, always bubbling under the surface, will show if said weakness becomes a threat. Even if that weakness is shown by her bonded. Morrigan will need to be strong in the face of her criticisms, as Morrigask is more than willing to prey upon any inner fears, excusing haphazard cruelty as her way to making them stronger. To scald away the imperfections.

She wouldn't mind watching the world burn.

This applied metaphorically as well as literally. Morrigask has an interest in fire. She likes fire. Likely respects fire more than most other living creatures. It consumes Thread. Razes deadened land to help spring new growth. Offers warmth. Keeping something as simple as a lit candle out where she can watch it will calm her when agitated. Morrigask is not especially vain, but an extra oiling is a good way for Hers to gain a little favor from her.

Out of all her siblings, Morrigask resembles her mother Zelsk the most. Her hide is most a rich, even shade of red reminiscent of cooling embers, darkening about her chest into smokier tones. A veritable lava flow walking, loose bubbles of flesh hang from her body like unshed drips and bony spikes protrude all along her neck, back and tail as if her hide melted and dried into distinct spires. Her head is wide and squarish, jaws set in a stubborn fashion, thick eye ridges shadowing often warm-toned eyes. Morrigask is a muscular wher, wide across the shoulder and neck, and even in repose she bears an air of poised lethality. As if lying in wait. An apex predator in design. This stockiness detracts little from her grace, for Morrigask holds herself with superiority, as if she was indeed a force of nature to be feared and worshiped, placated to mercy by the knowledge that they cannot contain her.

Her handler (because this flame will consume anyone else who dares touch her) will discover that her form and hide bears many textures. Some of the drips of flesh are soft and others firm as stone; the protrusions and queenly crest are varied in hardness and some are quite sharp. Her wings are short, well formed appendages, but frail, the membrane too taut and prone to tearing. Morrigan must be mindful of this as Morrigask reaches maturity and keep the wings especially well oiled.

Adult Length:
7'3" x 4'

Why Morrigan:
Morrigan will find a kindred spirit in Morrigask. A spark to the red's flame. Her independence and self interest shared by this red. But it is her steadfast nature and past of stubbornly enduring through hardships that will keep her bonded in check. She has suffered. She's survived. This is important in understanding and growing a mutual respect with her bonded.

Fandom Information:
Inspired by Flareon from Pokemon

DEX ENTRY: "If it inhales deeply, that’s a sign it’s about to attack. Prepare to be hit by flames of over 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit!"

 Posted: Mar 16 2017, 08:53 PM
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