Toba, Tobabil, T'ab now! You're ours forever, and don't you forget it. We hope you love Tyroth as much as we loved making his always-hungry drunken soul, but if you don't, just remember: he is YOUR dragon, and we hope that you play him as YOU will want to. Because, as it's said, this code is more like… guidelines. :) Have fun, try not to lust after too many sexy golds, and we will catch you on the flip side, bro! - Pippa, Talim, Taram

What started out a delicious egg…

Mmm! — Sex in a Pan Egg

If you could paint a picture of Super Deliciousness, tie it off with the feeling from best date you've ever had, and then push it out of a dragon's behind, it'd look something like this. Swirled in massive coils of smooth, luscious looking smudges, a lightly beaten mixture of whipped white and chocolately brown meld in numerous rings of movement, as if the egg had been spun in dizzying circles before being plopped down onto the Sands, a cold-textured egg in comparison to those around it. It's sweet, maybe too sweet — the type of indulgence you can't have too much of. But oh, those dangerous pleasures… If only this egg were a little bit more edible!


…drunkenly crawled out into a whole new bar scene (naming the Hatching Grounds!) …

Hatching Message:

:rocks and rolls and is out of control! Too much of a good thing can leave for one helluva tummyache, which this egg is apparently feeling. A few premeditated lurches, and then this tempting, ooey-gooey deliciousness in egg form melts away for the creamy, dreamy, alcoh—drunk core. An alcoholic, this dragonet is not; he is a drunk, through and through. There's a difference, you see: A Beer With Second Breakfast Bronze Hatchling ain't no quitter!

… to dazzle the ladies with his bo-dizzly bangin’ good looks …

A Beer With Second Breakfast Bronze Hatchling

Sun-dazzled brilliance marinates drunken shine into a length of wine-chased masculinity: a drama of besotted bronze, he is, an adventurer never far from his nightcap. Brazen, bronzen, cast in daring dalliances and pyrite's false glow, whiskey's golden fire glows bright from tip of impishly cocked muzzle through the drunken sweep of headknobs and lazily arched ridges to the tip of soused tail. Drunken swaggers of gold and glistening buckskin twine past lithe chest to long, straight legs planted well in toasted coconut-rum 'paws. Overlarge, overkill, his wings are of dramatic, poetic, ne'erending proportions swung wide in lo! yet grander scope: only his lank and lean and rangy form could possibly balance those gloriously indulgent 'sails.

… and then he found his perfect wingmate in you, T’ab!

Public Impression Message:

A Beer With Second Breakfast Bronze Hatchling is feeling a little tipsy, man. Like, whoever is telling the sands around him to spin just needs to stop. That's cruel, yo. Seriously bro. Where's the love? He staggers fore and aft, overlarge wings lifted. Previous grace is lost to the demands of his stomach: when it's not heaving, it's demanding food. Stopping to gather his bearings, the lengthy dragonet finds himself, luckily enough, nose-to-nose with his lifemate. Oh hey. It's you, surfer-boy. Nice to meet you. Don't you know it's time for dinner? And supper? And second breakfas— oh wait…

Personal Impression Message:

The heat falls away in slowly lapping waves, the scorching, feet-blistering torment of Istan Sands disappearing in a single heartbeat. Smooth, chilled bourbon infiltrates inwards, where the presence of the heat once was before, a great, alcoholic sea of contented, too-cool-to-be-here confidence. « Tob— Tobab— Taba— WHATSIT. YOU. Bro. » Cool collection fades away to goldschlager-tinged red-hot irritation, before a shot of whiskey-tinged affirmation mellows out all previous emotion. « T'ab. My T'ab. I am Tyroth. » A rum-soaked pause, and a view of a beach with hot babes, golds and greens alike; « You can call me bro, bro. » Alcoholic beverages and adult novelties fade away with sudden, aching need: « Hey, about that food, bro… »



Name Inspiration:

First of all, here's the names your Tyroth ALMOST received.

FIRST RUNNER UP: Qwzelyetalietzplieth. But it was going to be pronounced "EE-th". The "Qwzelyetalietzpl" part was silent.

PIPPA'S FAVORITE: Manjeyth. He was going to be the Jagerbomb dragon, since Jeyth herself was based off of cows, and Red Bull is the best alcoholic mixing beverage since limes were invented.

Rimshot please!

Tyroth actually receives his name from 'Tirith', a word for 'watch' or 'guard' in Tolkien's elvish tongue. Most who are even slightly familiar with Lord of the Rings will recognize the name from Minas Tirith, the Tower Of The Guard. Why did we pick it? Because you wanted something short and easy, and Tyroth is a very masculine sounding name. To boot, it sounds wicked awesome with T'ab, and since the bro's have to be wicked awesome at all times, it just worked. For the record, we pronounce it anywhere from tie-ROTH to TEAR-oath to tear-OTH.

Egg Inspiration:

Let's face it, there's always that dessert that is TO DIE for. You'd eat a ton of it. Roll in it. Lick it out of the pan. And, if you could, lick it off of someone else. Whipped cream, chocolate, and deliciousness — if only it could be a little less PG-13 rated so I could describe just HOW amazing it is. But for now, use your imagination, and pray that this poor little egg isn't considered an affair from the real love in your life. ;)

Description Inspiration:

This is all you, T'ab. You wanted a slim and long dragon that likes to drape, bright bronze with all of that charming gorgeousness. That is exactly what you got. If you'll notice (and how can't you) that description has a lot of drunken surfer-dude appeal, again -all you! Any well-educated frat boy from a tropical island has an appreciation for the drink. Of course, Tyroth might appreciate it more than most.

Mind Voice:

Any type of alcohol you could possibly think of - or dream up - could be utilized within Tyroth's unique mindscope. He's pitched high for a bronze, a potentially fine tenor, though his vocals are whiskey-roughened and smoke-darkened to something not quite as smooth. Bourbon or brandy are his drinks of choice, thick and particularly uniquely flavored: but depending upon his mood, you may get the fierce bitterness of vodka, or the smooth, kick-ya-in-the-ass taste of the finest amaretto. Rum is another particular fond flavor of his, as it's intoxicating and easy, and mixes well with all emotions.


Others may be cowed by his "strong" way of coming off, but he's never intentionally hamhanded with his speech. He's laid back, your Tyroth, and while he was hatched an alcoholic, he's a happy drunk, the bum on the bench who offers a sip of his jacked-up moonshine to a stranger who looks like he's having a bad day. He's also confident, and smooze-cool to the ladies: only the best for them, but of course, high notes of Patron tequila and straight shots of Crown.


Coming from the shell, Tyroth is obviously a creature of character. He is all long lines and slim sinuousness. As a baby, for the first couple of sevenday's, Tyroth will always have this almost emaciated look about him. He'll eat and eat and eat and eat (and eat some more and bug you for another meal), and his tummy will bulge outward with the mass quantities of food that he'll ingest, but he'll still somehow never quite catch up to his growth. That slimness might actually be rather questionable. Only the fact that he will probably one of the biggest dragons of his clutch might be his saving grace.

In his youth, there will be a certain awkwardness to his appearance, as he stretches and extends and seems to be all long limbs without a whole lot of substance. He might even take on a little bit of a likeness to Jeyth in her youth with those 'knobby-knees'. As he grows through adolescence and into adulthood, Tyroth will finally come into his more svelte and smooth lines. His growth will eventually still, and he'll finally have a chance to add a little tone to his muscles. Not looking near to ridiculously skinny, Tyroth will obtain the low swell of muscles. He won't look like some kind of Muscle Beach sort of dragon, more whip-chord slim, without an once of fat on him and only a sheer physique.

Did we mention that he'll eat, a lot? Tyroth has got one of those proverbial hollow legs (and a hollow tail, you swear). He likes to eat, and to snack, and to grouse over his meal. He's a bit of a grazer as well. It might take him a few hours to pick clean a 'beast, gnawing on the bones to get the marrow, simply enjoying the taste instead of just filling his belly. He may even want to bring back a thigh bone to the ledge to chew on, pick his teeth with.

At adulthood, Tyroth will still be characterized by how long he is. His limbs just seem to extend forever: a sinuous tail, long and thin legs, a slim neck, and wings that span an incredible distance. Even his ridges seem to be more long than wide. But with his age, he'll loose the awkwardness that comes with so much length. He'll be used to his limbs, and move them in a way that actually shows familiarity and even a languid gracefulness. The guy has got himself some pretty big paws though, rather larger than most dragon's. The thing is, he isn't a klutz at all with those feet. Tyroth manages his gracefulness with them. He might move at a lope like a wolf, keeping his wings neatly off the ground and his tail swinging from side to side with each step. Most dragons are rather ungainly upon the ground, but Tyroth can find just the right stride to make it look effortless.

When he is in repose, Tyroth is a creature of draping. He drapes himself on just about anything and will make it look comfortable. He isn't the sort to curl up or look tidy, he'll be sprawling about or looking rather languid with head pillowed upon crossed and extended forelegs. He simply takes on the appearance of some kind of lounging beast, who hasn't a care in the world and could stay there forever in exactly the same position, looking rather good doing it. Mr. Casual, your Tyroth.

In flight, Tyroth will be the sort to dip and crest in long strokes. He could glide forever upon a thermal, riding on it until there is nothing more there to buoy. He'll surf the air like some would take to the water. He doesn't do much in the way of flapping wingbeats, but glides upon the wind and currents, allowing them to do his work for him. There is a certain smoothness to his movements in the air, some might almost call it lazy. There is that spark there that'll suddenly leave him moving faster than the others, and probably rather cheerfully teasing those lagabones to get a move on.


For appearances, Tyroth is overall a very bright bronze. He isn't gold, but he'll steal that description from time to time if the sun is just perfect in the sky. Okay, so maybe he'll take that description more often then that Those bright golden-bronzes seems to shine over his entire coat and be the main coloring of his hide. But there are additions that seem to show themselves on top of his coloring. A slightly more warm bronze looks almost as if it has been splashed over his underbelly, leaving speckles and liquid-like splotches from just under his chest all the way to where his tail begins. Even his legs are speckled with the coloring while his feet are drenched the most in the rum-like color. But, as Tyroth has a bit of a Don Quixote influence to add to his drunken frat boy, there needs to be a little bit of dullish tarnish to his glorious armor. You really can't even tell those tarnish spots are there unless you look really close -his otherwise dazzling bronzes simply glimmer over all. And it is those tarnishing areas that are the real problem spots. They will require a lot of attention and those itches will plague him forever after.


o/~ To right the unrightable wrong / To love, pure and chaste from afar / To try, when your arms are too weary / To reach the unreachable star. o/~ —Don Quixote de la Mancha

Tyroth is perpetually youthful—that is, in the sense that he may never "mature" the way some dragons might expect a potential Weyrleader dragon to. (Hey, it could happen). But who really defines maturity anyway? Life is meant to be enjoyed! Why let some arrogant, pompous ass get in the way? Life is also worthy of song! Tyroth will be the first to start a chorus going whether it be to drag you out of the nasty slumps of a Wing-induced hangover, or as part of his victorious proclamation to the entire Weyr for gettin' a piece of that hide. His lyrics may not make sense entirely at times, as the truth in the matter may be that they are simply words formulated from each and every thought running through not only his, but /your/ mind. Be careful! Else everyone may know about the girl that turned you down the night before that you had your mind set on… but seriously, who in their right mind WOULD turn you down? You're T'ab!

Let's hang back on that persuasive demeanor for a moment here. Peer pressure. He's all about peer pressure… but really, it's to challenge you! Mind stimulation, one might call it. To go where no man has gone before, like the Weyrwoman's clothing press to see if she really DOES go commando beneath those dresses as the rumor may have it, or to break the lock on the stores for that little extra buzz when you're feeling the need to wash down that sandwich at two in the morning that you've been craving since midnight. But it's not to say that he won't take any of your suggestions to heart either. Life is a game to Tyroth. Whatever makes it more enjoyable becomes more of an obsession until it's done. Challenging or not, you're in for the ride of your life.


Van Wilder: Sometimes you gotta let your heart lead you… even if you know its someplace you know you're not supposed to be.
Gwen: And how many times has your heart led you into the women's locker room?
Van Wilder: This would be a first.
Gwen: Why do I find that hard to believe?
Van Wilder: I'm not saying this is the first time I've been in here, just usually it is another part of my anatomy that does the leading.

And what was that about beer? Beer! BEER. Ale. Whatever. At times, you may think that Tyroth's invaded the stores himself, given his clumsy mindlink, the way he seemingly blurts things out without thinking due to his lack of inhibition. But it's not limited to his mindlink either. You might wake up one morning to find him stalking through the high grasses along the basin pathway, if only to sneak a peek of the naked ladies soaking in the waterfall pools, entirely for your sake of course. Hidding meaning? Maybe. Git 'er done! Why in Faranth's tail is he doing this, you may ask? Why not! They're hot. You're hot. It just makes sense. Though when you go to fetch your lifemate, the girls may not be as appreciative. Tyroth didn't take a souvenir, did he? It's never too late to win a challenge! That panty raid that you may have thought about in passing time sometime last month that happened as a candidate—that /was/ a game, wasn't it? Of course it was. Because /life/ is a game. We're all pawns and Tyroth is the player.

At times, there may be moments of reflection—probably more so when you're trying to at least get a candlemark of sleep before you have to get up for drills. Remember those walls that talked to you last night? No? Well, what about that time when you rescued three broads from the tsunami that ate Ista? Tyroth possesses a vivid imagination. Sometimes, it may even be difficult to decipher what may or may not be valid in reality. Whether they be reflections of dreams you may have had, stories you may have shared, or pure boredom on his part, they will become a part of your mental imagery in present time. You may think you're going crazy at times, but it's all for the sake of fun. Life would be SO boring otherwise. And who doesn't like to watch a T'ab boasting his heroism for an impossible deed well done? It wasn't the healer that saved that young girl's life from the fire, but YOU.


There are times in life where things may have you in a rut. Maybe your three girlfriends caught on and they all dumped you at once. There's a side of Tyroth that you may experience sometime in your lifetime should the situation call for it. It's the kind and caring soul that you've longed for in a moment of crisis—the bipolar demeanor that involves the hero who's just there to comfort you and save the world from a T'ab unlike any before. No one else has to see you like this. He'll shield you from the outside for your sake for as long as it takes… or at least until he causes your closest friends to panic from the silence he projects, or the echo of lost words from the day prior. Lost between? One might think. Don't be surprised if your wing suddenly barges into your weyr. But hey, since everyone's around, why not have a party! That will lift your spirits! « Dude. Surprise! »

It's not to say though that Tyroth doesn't "clean up" well. Again, when the situation calls for it, he can put on a good act. Whether it be during a particular meeting with the Weyrleaders for a certain incident that you may have allegedly been involved in, or something else of that nature, it's almost as if your lifemate has a figurative thesaurus on standby. His language will suddenly become proper and words will become enunciated in your defense. Never mind this is your case to battle. But a little persuasive charm towards the gold couldn't hurt… Sexy buzz words FTW!
« Good morn, m'lady. Your hide is absolutely resplendent on this fine autumn day. Would you care for a carcass of savory bovine? »

It's just unfortunate that should there be a flare of spark between Tyroth and a lovely lady, it's not likely to last long, let alone develop into any sort of relationship. There's a flaw to his style, much like T'ab's, that makes him unfit in that category. Why? Because there are just too many pretty ladies out there, and they tend to be selfish. It's not you, it's them. Just as it's not Tyroth's fault that he can't commit. Chivalry isn't a crime, but something that should be enjoyed and expressed. Once in a while though, you may find his mind set on one particular dragon of the opposite gender—or maybe it's you who has a keen eye for her rider. Courting may begin, but it probably won't end as a fairytale would in the long run for he tends to be lazy at the best of times. Like that herdbeast she got him initially? Why won't he do that again for her so that her nails can dry (they're gorgeous!). « Get your own beast, woman! » Oh SNAP. Okay well, that's a bit extreme, but you get the point, right?

Lastly, you'll probably find yourself getting less than more. You know, "getting some"—at least in terms of dragon flights. Greens. They're PLENTIFUL. But Tyroth ain' having none of that. That's like going for a mere chicken wing when you can have an entire BREAST. Breasts. Mm. Ahem. Golds. That's where the action's happening, if at all. So don't be surprised if Tyroth's hanging in a dry spell for a few turns. This of course may reflect upon your as well. What happens to a guy when he's not getting any? Need we say more?


"…that I may dedicate each victory to her and call upon her in defeat, and if at last I give my life, I give it in the sacred name of Dulcinea." — Don Quixote


Tyroth loves the ladies. He loves the ladies potentially more than T'ab, though he'll be quick to refer to 'bros before hos' if he's ever brought to task. He's not particular, either: simply the shinier, the better. Bright Dedanseth will be a particular favorite of his, as she's brilliantly colored and oh-so-beautifully proportioned. But whoever it may be that he catches, she will be the lady of the night. His suave persuasion is what got him to her after all (aside from those crafty moves while airborne, but those are just second nature). And sloppy seconds? Don't think for a second that he won't try to get with her the next morning should he place second in that flight. He is determined! He will not quit! It might take a couple turns, but he /will/ woo her into his forearms. Of course, you might have a harder time fighting off the bronze or brownrider who had her first, at least for a little while. And black eyes? Oh, get used to them T'ab. That drunken personality flows poisonously, especially in flights. But like we said, it's all suave persuasion… right? Surely.

Dragon: Tyroth
Color: bronze
Name: Taram, Pippa
Egg: Mmmm! Sex In A Pan Egg
Egg Desc: Dex
Dragonet: Pippa, Taram
Dragonet Desc: Pippa, Taram
Messages: Taram, Pippa
Inspiration: Pippa, Talim, Taram

T'ab's bronze Tyroth
Harper's Tale: 53rd PC Clutch
Ista Weyr
Pippa’s Gold Jeyth and Coora's brown Sidaaeth
Sunday, April 19th, 2009
Clutchmates: Takazyn and green Nymerith, Kirar and blue Emianth

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