Anraleil Fiercely curly black locks, like storm-driven dark water, surround his face with mathematical precision, going on to end midway down his stiff back. Amber-brown eyes, like the tiger's eye gemstone, flash and track from beneath unfairly long lashes. His complexion is café au lait, a bit skimpy on the lait from the scorch of the sun. Face is narrow, high cheekbones slanted the same as those hard brown eyes. Nose is short, abrupt, with a Grecian curve to its narrow length. Mouth and chin have a stern set to them, though there are too many promises in the slight curve of those full lips, too much delicacy in the fine lines of that cleft chin for him to be truly severe. 5'8 and a quarter, he's all whipcord and wire, wrapped around his fragile-seeming frame. Slender as a greyhound, Anraleil possesses a lupine intensity too sharp to set people at ease. Anraleil was born Anraleil of Saithdir-on-Gochmawr, to the miner Tolaros and the herbalist Kenet, their only child. Neither of the twain had time to care for Anraleil, so they fostered him out to the nanny of the mining camp, Teka. Anraleil was far, far too much for plump, henlike Teka. Everywhere at once, the youngling had boundless energy-but a stubborn streak running to arrogance when asked to work. They simply could not make him do it. He could be grounded a million times, but all Anraleil would learn was how to escape from his mentors. If he was deprived of his supper, he learned to keep a hoard of edibles in his room. And all the threats of beatings fazed him not a bit. Strong and self-reliant from the start, there was simply no dealing with Anraleil as soon as he turned twelve. Oddly enough, Teka could not seem to feel the affection and devotion to her young charge that she had felt toward others. The boy was aloof, and his manner unpersonable. He had few who would even play with her, for Anraleil played rough, and Anraleil played to win. Absolutely fair in his attitude, he showed no give for those younger or weaker than him-they were incapable, and incapable people did not belong in Anraleil's world. His manners grew alarmingly worse as time went on, and his moral standings lowered themselves with every year. He listened, when it pleased him, to the wanderers, the more unscrupulous the better. The first day of spring, when he was sixteen years old, Anraleil simply left, without note or explanation. The lean, ugly distance runner disappeared with him, as did his bedding, a great deal of trail-food, and thirty pieces of gold from his parents' savings. For nine years, Anraleil lived off of others' gain, never quite making promises, never leaving behind any friends. His infamy grew, and they began to send out guardsmen and Singers on sweeps to find him. He specialized in horse theft, renowned as the man who could steal anything on four legs. On one particular day, when he was twenty-five, Anraleil was camping in one of the many caves riddling the stony hills of Tremoel, a high atmonsula of the seventh degree. Rrkamney, a fei'ikshy Bard, spotted him there. Being a Bard, she had also memorized his description. He'd thought that she intended to take him back to the Singers, or even to a ch'meiri raj-he didn't trust fei'ikshae any further than he could throw them. But Rrkamney ruined it all, locking her talons around Anraleil's arm and informing him in stentorian tones and informing him that he wasn't going to any sissy prison. No, she was going to try the miracle cure that had worked even on Achthia the Bond-Hater. She was taking him to a place called Dark Moon. Anraleil informed Rrkamney in no uncertain terms that there was no way he was going to offer himself up as a thrall to some new-hatched or newborn little alien beasties. Rrkamney, however, stood firm, offering a deal-go, and get off lightly, or be taken to the ch'meiri enclave to be Enthralled for the rest of his life. Shaken, but not stirred, Anraleil figured that a bit of work for a friendly alien entity was better than eternal drudgery complete with a mental privacy of nil. After all, no beast would pick anyone like Anraleil, and he might get away in the confusion and uproar of the bondings. He had been flown to Dark Moon, cautiously, and kept in a high cave where there was no way down but by the curious creatures called dragons. Anraleil was now watched by a temporarily grounded bluerider as he unhappily did his chores and waited for his getaway. "You're an idiot, A'leil, but I'm still not leaving you," Griflath said firmly, as his slender rider struggled in his grip. "And you're not leaving here. Be sensible. I'd be far too much of a burden to take on if you left now. Wait 'til I'm grown, and then we can hightail it out of here." Anraleil glared, but he ceased to fight against his blue lifemate's hold. "This place is stifling," he panted, leaning loose-jointed against the tiny blue's flank. "I just...can't stand it, Grath!" He didn't mention the shortening of his name, which seemed ominously like that which the ch'meiri used for their thralls. For all appearances, he was Griflath's thrall, only he got feedback from the dragon as well. "But you can," Griflath purred, arrogance in every line of him. "Because I'm here. And we're not running away until we can do it properly." "Now can we run away?" the bluerider asked plaintively. They had graduated from the dragon's schooling--at last, at last--and were, for all purposes, free. "Stick with me, A'leil, and we'll go far," said the blue. Griflath had grown enormously, and his bond came just to his elbow. Compared to most of the other blues, he was small. "We are not running away," the dragon continued, giving his rider a mental poke, "because we are going to be professionals. Professionals, A'leil, do not run away. Besides, who's stopping us?" He gave the ex-thief long enough to figure out that they were really free. The blue knelt down, so that he could look the man he'd chosen in the eye. "What we do now, Mister Anraleil, is find a good base of operations. Then, we need to find some really committed partners. After that, we can go into business." Griflath was as good as his word. In under a week, he'd found another rider from Auroch--the Achthia that Rrkamney-curse-her-furry-hide mentioned--and grown cordial enough that Achthia invited them to join her group. The Moire Protectorate, on Lao Daemia was where they were headed. Shadow-walking was a new experience for both of them, but Anraleil rather liked it. The colors and sensations were entirely novel, and better than the disorientation and nausea from the fei'ikshae's transportation, and far ahead of the absolute black and airless cold of Griflath's world-hopping. "Are you watching this?" he murmured to his lifemate. "You'd better believe it," Griflath muttered back. He was looking around him, wide-eyed, trying to catch all the sights at once. Lao Daemia, at least this portion of it, was beautiful. The pair that waited to greet them were also beautiful, but they were a lot more threatening than the landscape. Indeed, they rather matched their home, black towers and black spires piercing the sky, black arches making doors to nowhere. There was a woman with pointed ears like a ddraivi, but her skin was human, even though she appeared to be striped from head to toe. She was stunning. Her partner, but not bond, was equally spectacular, an enormous dragon who was black-and-white stripes all over. He dazzled. "I am Alakamarth," he said. His voice, while deep, still sounded suspiciously like he was holding back laughter. "This is the leader of Moire Protectorate, Efellai." Anraleil and Griflath surveyed their host critically as she came forward to give them a going-over of her own. She did not appear to be amused, but she hadn't smiled yet, either. She simply walked around the pair, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she nodded. "You'll do, I think. A'leil and Griflath, right? I'm not putting you in Achthia's command. The way Griflath flies, and his size, suggests that he doesn't go for stamina, and that's what anyone in Belethnil's Hand needs. However, Cahnath has said that you two have some…specialized skills. I'm putting you in Eglado's Hand, under Korim and Califath. Probably Ringfaciel Talon, too. The dragoness Tygiri is your Talon Leader. You will report to her." Anraleil, following Griflath's lead, nodded. This place had organization, but it was also very new. He should be able to serve in his 'talon' without interfering with his true business. Tygiri was a tyrant. Korim and Califath were worse. Before A'leil realized it, years had gone past. In fact, it was only by Griflath's exasperation that the Plan got going again at all. "Enough of Efellai's raids and Tygiri's drills," he said briskly. "The Tiger should be watching out for that newest addition, Honor or whatever her name is. Sirenth is still very young. I'm going to tell them I'm competing in a mating flight, and you, my lad, are going to the Braethas Raug." A'leil blinked. "What's a Braethas Raug?" "Your guess is as good as mine. But you're likely to find some cronies there. Don't tell them you're a rider. Say I've Searched you, and you're a candidate. You've definitely got potential. Meanwhile, I'll be looking for some opportunities of my own." The dragon's tail switched in malevolent contemplation. "Get on, c'mon, before that benighted Korim's radar picks us up." Anraleil barely had time to scramble aboard before Griflath was off in a flurry of cadet-blue wings. "To Danach!" Whilst Anraleil was amusing himself on Danach, Griflath had his own business to attend to. The first, of course, was to take care of his basic needs... He’d signed up for a flight. At Ryslen, to be precise. She was a pretty little thing, that green Kalkt, and wholly deserving of his attentions. Unfortunately, Kalkt didn’t discriminate in the least between her chasers. The green had no preference whatsoever. That took its toll on the mating flight. She’d evaded his grasp--although he couldn’t fathom why--and some tiny little violet had claimed her instead. As if I were less worthy than the half-pint! he grumbled to himself, but he was not finished yet. Oh, no. If he could not put claim a Ryslen-born by blood, he’d just have to go about getting one in a different matter. Ryslen was a prestigious institution, and they had dragons literally everywhere. To one born at Ryslen, there would be a vast web of fellow natives to exploit. And they were trusted! Padding delicately on his stubby-toed feet, Griflath roamed the Bowl until he spied one of the blues designated as Searchers. Ah! Opportunity. “You are a Searcher?” he asked innocently. “I had heard there was an excellent one of your description around here.” Uh...yes, I Search for Ryslen. My name is Chzarnth; my rider is Rrknz. Were you looking for me? The other blue was slightly taller at the shoulder than he was, but he was also built lighter. He was a handsome dragon, and carried himself well, although he was, like Griflath, undersized. Not very strong. I bet I could beat him in a fight, he mused, and then scolded himself. That was not what he was here for. “I was,” he said, pitching his voice a little higher, as if he were excited. “I’m Griflath, and I’d like to Stand for a clutch at Ryslen. I was wondering if I was...worthy. Could you tell me, please?” Chzarnth blinked, and tilted his head. Oh. You can Stand any time you like. Any Old World or Nexian dragon--actually, any dragon that is capable of bonding--is right for the Sands. Let me get Rrknz to report you as a candidate. You said your name was Griflath? Smiling his crocodile smile, Griflath nodded earnestly. By hook or by crook, he was going to have a Rysleni partner in his and A’leil’s little organization. He was present at the very historical clutch of Arosambyth and Hirlath; he approved heartily of the pair, and of the significance of their children. After the naming shock and the double surprise of twin silvers from the five hundredth egg, however, Griflath was feeling a bit of an anticlimax. He was also feeling slightly peevish. The last two eggs broke in rapid succession--a cream and a green. Cream. How lovely... To his surprise, the cream skittered up to him. "Griflath, sometimes a failure isn't a failure, but merely a delay. I am Feyrilayt, your prize." For once in his life, Griflath was speechless. So he touched--very gently--his young bond's nose with his own, while his eyes whirled a startled, joyful blue. He was not such a cynic as he thought, nor as callous as he had always held himself to be. With A'leil, his choice, he could be brisk, sharp, and bossy. But Feyrilayt was...different. He couldn't bring himself to say anything except a whispered, "Griflath." "I know," the little cream laughed, rubbing her cheek against his. "I was afraid you weren't coming. Why don't you take me out for dinner, Mister Griflath?" "My pleasure," he murmured, dazed. A’leil, under cover as Anraleil, was having a similar time at the second Braethas Raug group hatching. There were so many different kinds of dragon, his head was spinning. Mostly he stayed still and quiet, wondering just what he’d let Griflath get him into. But then three eggs broke at once. The first was a silver, large, its hide a dark rainbow covered with white stripes, most unusually. Its wings were silver and black. The other two were blues--one dark rainbow-winged with brilliant firework markings and a flashy blue and white hide, the other winged in a blinding white with pale rainbow chest scales. They were...breathtaking. And after a moment, they all began to head his way. ”You required accomplices?” asked a strong young voice, a boy’s voice. Anraleil jerked his head up, his eyes as wide as a frightened deer’s. ”Onurnmosoth, Adrakenenth, and Samtairadanth are here for you,” the big silver continued. Anraleil could have sworn there was a hint of a laugh in that easy, arrogant voice. ”Shhh, Onurnmosoth, you’ll blow our cover,” said the fireworks-marked blue in a cautious murmur. That would be Samtairadanth... ”Or worse, you’ll blow our rider’s cover,” the last said, rolling his eyes. Adrakenenth. Fa...leith... ”You’d better believe it,” Onurnmosoth said flippantly. ”Anraleil, my friend, you are now the rider of four ‘damn dragons’.” Adrakenenth snorted. ”Yes, well, you’d best get over it and feed us. Now.” ”We love ya, Mr. Partner in Crime,” Samtairadanth cracked, and all three dragons dissolved into laughter. It didn’t make the cattle-dog driving any less obvious, but Anraleil chuckled too. He’d dare Griflath to outdo him here. This was gonna be one tough gang. Feyrilayt was growing more beautiful and confidant with every day. She was brilliant, charming...and a total flirt. She worried him. Griflath could not imagine living without her now. Anraleil had made him whole; Feyrilayt made him greater than he was. He missed his partner, though. If only Feyrilayt would grow faster. As soon as she reached adulthood, they were going to head out to Moire, and then he could rejoin his beloved rider. Wouldn’t A’leil be surprised... It was Griflath who got the surprise. Out watching Feyrilayt lope around like a spooked runner, the undersized blue was startled to see a trio of dragons translate out in the Lao Daemian manner. One was very large; the other two were slightly larger than himself. As a team, they wound down to land in front of him. Feyrilayt stopped her stretching to stare. He didn’t like her sudden smooth shift to a fetching pose. She was still so young... His hackles were already up concerning these three. They felt very odd to him, connected/not connected in a bizarre fashion. And then it hit him, only a split-second before Anraleil’s mental ‘buzz’. His rider had come! The cocky, slender youth came sliding down the shoulder of the big stripy fellow, his head held at an ingratiating angle. “My goodness. Can it really be? Griflath? And who is that pretty lady-dragon you’re ogling? You said you were coming for a flight...” “I chased,” Griflath said, “but she chose another. Her loss was my gain, for I bonded Feyrilayt not long after, from the mighty Arosambyth’s clutch. She is my contribution to our troublesome fellowship.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Have you anything as good?” Anraleil laughed. Laughed. “You have no idea! Meet Adrak, Onur, and Sam. They’re our new partners in crime.” Adrakenenth Onurnmosoth Samtairadanth Griflath was not as pleased with the outcome of his plan as he thought he would be. True, they were not a group of dragons joined tightly enough to make an unbeatable team--but he didn’t especially want A’leil’s new lifemates on the team. Oh, Samtairadanth was all right. Contrary to his brilliant, fireworks-marked hide, he was a canny sort. But Sam’ was too cautious by far, a voice of reason that irked Griflath immensely. He was supposed to be the leader. He was supposed to think of everything. The elder blue didn’t want some weird halfbreed runner-up telling him that he was heading for a fall. Adrakenenth was a little better than his fellow. He was lean and light, and unlike the other two, easy on the eyes. He was good-looking, in a quieter sort of way. Griflath appreciated the other blue’s cynicism and biting wit. He could trust Adrak’ to keep A’leil properly in line, even if Griflath himself were busy. But Griflath had the distinct impression that the white rainbow blue thought Feyrilayt was an encumbrance, that she didn’t belong in the group. That was an unforgivable breach of etiquette as far as the Dark Moon blue was concerned. Feyri’ certainly contributed, and even when she could not, he would not see her left behind. Unless Onurnmosoth was tailing her. Griflath seethed with jealousy and possessive rage. Onurnmosoth was the bonding that should never have happened. The striped, dark-rainbow dragon was too cocky, too handsome, and too bloody big. Griflath resented him and his influence immensely. And yet...Feyrilayt liked him. More, she flirted and coquetted with him as she never would with her own bond. She had come into her full growth now. His Feyrilayt was heartbreakingly beautiful, slender and dark-eyed and incomparable. He could deny her nothing. He would not allow himself to send the upstart away, and make her unhappy. But when she flew, he vowed, the stripy imposter would not even be in the running. Languorous as ever, the creamy femme fatale that was Feyrilayt stretched and sighed. Moire’s seaside climate was beautiful, but after a while, it got dull, dull, dull. She wanted a change of scenery. And at the same time, she was just a little bit homesick. ”Griflath, I think we ought to make a trip back to Ryslen, don’t you think?” she asked in a voice like smoke and honey. Griflath was her oldest and dearest friend; she knew he would allow her this. He looked nervous and a little jumpy. “But of course,” her bond still managed, but she felt the dismay radiating out from him. “What is the purpose of our visit, love?” Feyrilayt ignored the confusing tide of emotions. She usually did. “Because I wish to see it again. Also…” She frowned and looked down at herself, debating. “Griflath, I’m going to need somewhere to lay my eggs, and I wish to have my flight where I will be laying. So why don’t you gather up the boys, and we’ll make it a family vacation, all right?” Behind her block, Griflath fretted and seethed. Once there, Feyrilayt played her typical havoc, and Anraleil, of course, was left to explain. Explain that yes, he was acting for her, no, she wasn’t his bond, but he was bonded to her bond... It made a man’s head hurt. Even more upsetting was the fact that Onur’ and Griflath genuinely disliked each other. Each was prepared to go to battle with the other over Griflath’s pretty bond. It was giving Anraliel a headache. He was startled when he met Belethnil’s Coronal on the grounds at Ryslen. Achthia was rather notorious for preferring Moire to anywhere else. But there she was, ax-nose, blond hair, and all. ”Coronal,” he said softly. “What an unexpected surprise.” One blond eyebrow hoisted up. “What on earth are you doing here?” the coronal asked bluntly. Achthia had never been one for social niceties. “I’ve seen Feyrilayt, too. She flies point on Donnólë! She shouldn’t be out here, A’leil. You are being a corrupting influence.” She glowered down her nose at him. His own chin went out. “Feyrilayt has taken leave to fly and bear eggs, Coronal, which is definitely allowed. It was her idea to come here. Griflath would come, of course, and Onur’, and I had to come along to make sure they didn't kill each other.” He was almost as tall as she, but slimmer, a greyhound next to a Doberman. She frowned; he wished she wouldn’t. Even her normal half-scowl had a hint of the strong character within that powerful body, but when Achthia frowned, she simply looked malevolent. Daring, he ventured, “And why are you here, m’lady coronal? Don’t you have duties as well?” Achthia gave him a dark look. “Vriendinth and Cahnath have decided to agree on something. I trust you, Mr. Multiple-dragons, understand the significance of this event. Unfortunately, it’s females they’re after. A pair, who have asked for a pair of males to chase. And it requires me to have a partner. They are most distressed that I have turned down every suggestion of theirs to date.” A’leil choked back a laugh with difficult. He could imagine the coronal’s reaction to anyone telling her what to do with her life. Having her two nearest and dearest interfering in her love life would be intolerable to her. The flicker of relief that his quartet hadn’t done anything of the sort was almost immediately quashed. ”Multiple females?” said Adrak’ intently. ”Hey, Vriendinth, what kind of females?” Samtairadanth’s voice fluttered on the edge of his ‘hearing’. ”Hathians? But they’re gorgeous! Commendable taste, Cahnath.” The focus of the two dragons swung expectantly toward him. Achthia, seeing his instant facial tic, looked taken aback. And then, incredibly, she began to laugh. After a moment, A’leil joined her. “That’s teach us,” she said as the chuckles died down. “Double the dragons means double the drive. I...ah...don’t suppose you’d be willing to be called my partner for this, would you?” He blinked, the thin charcoal-line of his brows winging high. “Of all the offers I’ve ever received,” A’leil said dryly, “I do think that this is the strangest.” He put out his creamy-tan hand, and watched the surprise bloom on her face in return. “Temporary contract only, you understand.” Achthia nodded vehemently. “Temporary.” “Not being romantic or touched with love in any way.” “Right.” In the background, he could hear the excited jabber of dragons. Well, at least Sam’ and Adrak’ would be occupied. And with plenty of company, too. ”Rotuk is much, much cooler than Daminiss. What on earth do you see in her, Sam’?” ”Rotuk is too much like Achthia,” Samtairadanth replied haughtily. ”Besides, Daminiss is a rare beauty.” Vriendinth’s brassy murmur was shocked. ”Like Achthia! My dear boy, it is only the more reason to love her!” ”No, I agree, it is Daminiss who is the more attractive. And she has more personality. I spend enough time with our rider!” ”Cahnath!” Oh, this was going to be interesting. See Achthia, Cahnath, and Vriendinth here! Cahnath, Vriendinth, Samtairadanth, and Adrakenenth are chasing green Rotuk and yellow Daminiss at Ryslen Weyr! Feyrilayt is flying at Ryslen, and Griflath and Onurnmosoth are chasing her! It's going to be a long trip, folks! Anraleil Impressed blue Griflath at Dark Moon Weyr, which has since closed. Dragons of his type can be found at Calyeni Caverns. Anraleil was amazed to bond Onurnmosoth, Samtairadanth, and Adrakenenth at the Braethas Raug. The canny Griflath Impressed yet another partner, ever-indomitable Feyrilayt, at Ryslen. Anraleil and Griflath are partners in the service of the Moire Protectorate on Lao Daemia. They fight in the Ringfaciel Talon of Eglado's Hand. Background graphics by Efellai. To request the use of said background, please send an e-mail to that name at yahoo.com. This website is hosted for free by . 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