Lyllya grew up as a rather solitary child, her only companion usually being her eldest half-brother with whom she shared a rather unusually close sibling bond. As the other half dozen of her brothers, relations were a bit strained to say the least.

Being the only child of her father's second 'fasting, Lyllya was not exactly the favorite among her siblings, though her close relationship with Tyllat was usually more than enough to make up for any hardship. It was with this cherished brother that she was usually sent out to search for wild herbs for her mother to use in the kitchens and to freshen the air within their own living area... which was when things changed.

Unbeknownst to the two, Fort was in the midst of search, an unusually large clutch resting on the sands, and Tyllat was taken, leaving Lyllya on her own. Not long after, she recieved word that Tyllat, now T'lat, had impressed a rather lovely brown named Alth and that his wish was that she, too, would find a way to be away from their family. Wouldn't a craft do nicely? He certainly remembered that she could sing well, the nannies were always happy to have her help with the little ones. And, so, to Harper she went.

Apprenticing wasn't much of a change, she did get a chance to sing often enough, and was even trusted to be sent off with a few Jourenymen since she didn't have that fear of dragons that most of the young girls she dormed with seemed to posses, nor the hatred of the holders who thought the beasts a drain on their livestock. She was even lucky enough, once, to be sent off to Xanadu for a short while. This probably wasn't the best thing to ever happen in Lyllya's life, though she did enjoy swimming and, since the weather was warm, neglected to towel off after a night swim with a few of the hold folk. She didn't even mind having the mild cold that seemed to cling to her for a sevenday (Hey, it got her out of singing at every request).. until it became clear that the cold was not going away and, in fact, had become worse.

After consulting a healer, it was decided that the apprentice should remain south and that, sadly, not all of her vocal range would return. So, deciding that it would be kinder to allow the girl to leave the craft and find a new vocation, she was allowed to leave the hall completely. Thus she found the weaver hall.

Again an apprentice, Lyllya applied herself with conviction seldom seen during her harper days, finding a small group of friends quite easily and seeming happier than ever. Even a little of her shyness abaited, making her more open to approach by strangers and taking some of the blush away from her cheeks at those more embarrassing moments... Perhaps it was having to see all of those scantily clothed customers in the fitting room for measurments.

Finally, a Journeyman's knot was placed upon her shoulder, giving Lyllya more freedom and, most importantly, a room of her very own.. not shared with dozens of apprentices or snoring family members.

For a while, the weaver was content to ply her trade, teach apprentices, and enjoy the silence of her nights... and free time. That is, until R'ana came to the hall looking for a new set of leathers. Her dragon, brown Buedath, had special tastes and his rider wanted the riding gear to coordinate so, Lyllya, Merdan, and R'ana made their way out to where the dragon had been napping and, after giving his opinion, the brown decided that both Lyllya and Merdan should both go to Xanadu to stand for the clutch that was currently on the sands. They agreed and a rather long and exciting candidacy began.

Friends were made, chores were done, and a rather tragic natural disaster lived through before the dragons began to hum and the eggs began to crack. Before it was all over, Lyllya found herself face to face with a watermarked gold dragonet, who announced her name as Mizuth.

Life has changed forever, and now the new pair begin the long road of learning to work and live together.

Prim, proper. This firelizard has all the taste in the family, small, compact, and ever-so-delicate. Compassionately down-turned eyes and conservatively tucked up wings make this cerulean king seem pompous and regal, but deep down inside is an overwhelming sense of insecurity. This, however, makes him a perfectionist in every way, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of every situation.

Powerful, disarming, this elegant, even handsome brown firelizard was perhaps born with the wrong personality. Cruelty lines his muzzle where only friendliness should tread, and tracks across the gentle rise of chestnut ridges, flitting to thumbhooks on walnut-hued wings. Slyness slides along burnished flanks and trickles down the cloak-folds on his 'sails, blooming on the feline uneasiness of his gracious tail. Claws are long and dagger-sharp, and click like impatient fingernails at any move.

Arrogance and charm are with every flare of chesnut brown wings, defyingly bright red slashes curl down a handsome broad back. The arch of his head and the S-like curve of his tail indicates that this young firelizard is in control here. The world is about him and nothing less. However, a teasing twitch and he shows the wry humour, gentle grace and courteous manners that marks him as the star of the show. All the world's a stage, and he's the leading act.

At first glance this fire-lizard will confuse the mind and the eye. Down his hide sweep electric yellow bolts of color, so bright that they leave one eye-sore. His tail is oddly shaped, jagged and stiff like a wild bolt of lightning, and that bright yellow from base to tip. Brown, though, can be seen if one can manage to look closely without having to turn away, which is especially difficult to do when this long, sleek creature is lying in direct sunlight. The brown sneaks between and around the bolts of brightness, and each of his paws are pure brown, as well, which only his claws that painful yellow.

Deep, dark, emerald slides gently over diminutive 'knobs to cover the delicate head of this little gem, her aristocratic neck curving often to give her a rather coy expression. Ridges are a gentle wave that ends between two perfectly squared shoulders, the wings lightening to sun touched jade, white 'veins' marking out a pattern on the delicate membranes before substantial 'spars make their presence known in a show of brilliant white. Limbs are a sculpted affair, perfection etching every curve of evident muscle and setting off the wicked gleam of talons with each and every movement. Her tail is a jungle vine, whipping behind her constantly, the spaded tip a crowning absinthine jewel.

Forest green sprawls across lanky, slender shoulders in a hectic whirlwind of swirling, whirling color, flashing past needle-sharp neckridges before dancing through vivid verdure and ending the maddening rush with a slim, forked tail. Foreboding hints of onyx, ebon, and walnut are oft glimpsed through the oppressive greenery of gangly limbs, but the tinges of bloody crimson overshadow the dark shades and shadows; vermillion declares war upon the incandescent wingsails, flaring and flaming with sudden, bursting color before vanishing beneath the ominous whimsy of deepest jade <

Some ancient power must have taken a million tiny bronze beads, strung them together into cloth, formed that cloth into a firelizard and breathed life into him. From his darkly curved headknobs to his delicate talons to his arching wingspan to his whipcord tail, his beaded hide invites touch. Surely such pebbly perfection must be an illusion? <

Golden gilt slips down over delicate 'knobs and shimmers over the perfect wedge shape of her diminutive head. Neck and 'ridges deepen to molten sunset while wings expand into a brilliant show of sunrise glory, their 'sails opening like the petals of a morning flower, 'spars becoming sparkling dew drops of opalescent splendor. Muscular limbs are the show of feminine perfection, aristocratic paws ending in ivory touched talons while a ribbon like tail nearly floats behind, the spaded tip a crowning jewel.

So, you want to be a goldrider?(Links to Goldrider informational pages)

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