Senior Journeyman Tenebrous

Due to the behaviors of certain staffers and SearchCo members at Xanadu Weyr, this character has been retired from active RP, pending possible reinstatement at a later date. Backscenes and those specific to the development of other characters can be requested as necessary. Please use @mail to request them, or additional information.

I turned to look but it was gone. I cannot put my finger on it now; the child is grown, the Dream is gone…
I can't explain. You would not understand, this is not how I am…


Occupation: Healer
Rank: Senior Journeyman
Specialty: Botany/Herbology/Medical Pharmacology
Post: Healercraft Hall, Fort Hold



A creature of motion and stillness is Tenebrous. He appears to be around six feet tall, his frame lean and whipcord tight, like a coursing hound built for strength and endurance. Hair that is long in some places and shorter in others hangs in strands the color of new, fertile earth, parting somewhat unkemptly down the middle of his face. Light-sensitive eyes are blue with flecks of gray as garnish, shielded by a light brow. They don't appear to be looking at anything, staring ahead listlessly until engaged. Empty, unfocused. The tone of his skin on the left hand side of his face tells of more days out of the sun than in it, cheek bones pronounced, but not sharp or stark. The right is a different story with the flesh over that cheek appearing just a little red in certain places, tell-tale scars from his past. An ugly scar can barely be seen on his scalp, leading up from his right temple into his hair. His face is not unpleasant to look at if one can get beyond those odd markings, but it is blank, expressionless. A slightly tapered jaw holds up lips that don't appear used to smiling and a nose of unassuming size. Closer inspection reveals finer details.

His face is covered with the barest shadow of a beard, but only on the left side. A day's growth, perhaps? Too occupied to shave it, or too consumed to care? His expression is not unhappy, yet his face bears none of the marks of smiling or laughter. Though unfocused, those eyes are still aware, looking at nothing to see everything. An observer.

Utilitarian trousers the color of light grain cover his legs, the knees reinforced with wherhide patches. A faded cotton over shirt with a few undone buttons near the neck is tucked in, a nondescript belt at the waist. The keen eye will notice a strip of leather thong around his neck, disappearing into his shirt. The strap of a rucksack lies angled around his back. Nowhere on his person is a Weyrknot or an identifier of craft or rank. Over the top of all of this rests a broken in, but new-looking hide coat, nearly the same color as his hair. It's length nearly approaches his ankles, lts sleeves full, but managable. A low-hanging mantle hangs over the back of it as well as a deep, fully yoked hood, weighted to hold it into place no matter what its position. About him, the scent of spice and warm earth, herbs and rain and strange places that man rarely travels, mountain wind, and solitude. Wild.

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A brief history of Tenebrous' past, and his current doings at Xanadu.

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Tenebrous' home, if ever he had one, Stormhaven rests in one of the deepest parts of the forest around Xanadu's lands, far from prying eyes, spying ears and clever tongues…

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Lacking In A Pattern Green Truth


"I'm…sort of between homes, right now," Tenebrous murmurs. "You ask why I travel, what I'm so desparately trying to find?" He glances back at the younger woman. "Truth, Hasha. I was looking for truth. How wonderful it is that she has found me instead…"

Monochromatic; this word best describes this small female form, for while lush verdant color stains her hide there can be no argument that she is simply … green. The same hue — like bright green grass — that envelopes her small little muzzle and hugs about dainty little headknobs also trails down a short, slim neck and across plumply round girlish flanks down to the end of her little forked tail. And whilest her wingsails might well appear to be quasi-transluscent, it is merely an illusion for they are still of that spring grass-green hue. In all, she's small, dainty and gifted with a sense of grace and easy proportion. She's lovely to behold for sure; clearly a lady and everything that a green firelizard ought to be. But what she lacks is merely any patterning upon her hide; for she is indeed a singular hue across her entire being.

Dam: Gold Belle
Sire: Bronze Ruin

(Note: This is what I get for wandering around without an adult. Enka deserves heaps of praise for this, and my profuse thanks. I stumbled onto a hatching without even realizing it and she explained how the whole thing worked, from top to bottom. And I got Truth as a door prize, whose egg and flit descs are both gorgeous. Credit for the picture needs to go to Galina. She drew Truth for me while I was away for the holidays and seeing the little green completely made what was shaping up to be a very bad day. Luffs.)


Snowy Day Gold Reconciliation

When the little queen locks eyes with Tenebrous, something clicks within the man and he begins to speak in hushed tones. "Behold," he intones quietly. "Witness this creation before you, and know that it is my doing. Never again will you bear so great a hurt as you have endured before. Let that deepest of shadows never again touch your world…this, my promise to you." One finger reaches out to touch one of the Gold's headknobs. "My Reconciliation," he breaths.

This gold appears as frail and fragile as a wraith, snout narrow and delicate as it slopes back towards gently rounded headknobs. Her body seems to be composed entirely of sinew and wiry curves, appearing almost emaciated when the lighting is particularly dim. In actuality, it is all an elaborate trompe l'oeil, something her hide is wont to do. Pale gold, the color of reflected sunlight off the deep piles of fresh snow, glitters upon this gold's hide, entrancing hues containing shimmers of orange and silver as well as richer ambers as they dance over haunches. Her tail is a darker, more antiquated shade of gold, as are her dainty limbs, a soft blue undertint glinting beneath yellow. Snowy shadows gather in turn on each sail. Soft apricot spars criss-cross, while delicately frosted crystals collect on headknobs and eyeridges, catching the light and setting her aglow.

Dam: Gold Belle
Sire: Bronze Ruin

(Note: A crazy amount of thanks to Niva, Sigam and Thea for this. Niva and Sigam desced what has to be one of THE most incredible Gold flits I have ever seen, and Thea helped them give it to me as an OOC birthday present. Credit for the picture needs to go to Galina, along with nearly tearful thanks for an incredible Christmas present.)

Just A Bit Inglourious Bronze Consequence


Tenebrous bends low then, the green and gold at his shoulders framing his hooded face. "I will name him Consequence, of course. Fitting, as that is exactly what he is. A consequence of my presence here, both past and present…" He glances up into Galina's face and offers her one of his lopsided smiles. "…and a consequence of friendship, though that word scarecely does it justice."

Not terribly large for a bronze, this firelizard nonetheless carries himself with all the cocksure pride that even the largest of their kind can possibly bear. His blunted muzzle seems to bear a nigh permanent smirk, oft-gaping in the equivalent of a smile and he moves with a bit of a swagger, unhurried. Battered, unpolished bronze coats his entire, rough-and-tumble frame in relative purity, appearing scratched in places and scuffed in others with the odd smidge of rust for color. The straightforward bronze is broken only at his neck — there, the color takes on a ragged appearance, raw like a burn that encircles his neck. His wings are only slightly better off, being a few shades lighter and with hints of rust along his spars. Only his talons are truly polished and bright, steely scythes meant to cut and carve with abandon.

Dam: Gold Meribell
Sire: Bronze Heather

(Note: Epic. This flit is epic. And his writer is also epic. And tasting of syrup. And sweet cuppin' cakes. Seriously.)

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Logs And Stories

Here are several logs that involve Tenebrous as well as some backstory that the User has written for him. A warning, some of the logs and stories are full of spoilers about Tenebrous' life.

These are a series of letters that Master Healer Jaice, mind-healer of Boll Hold, is writing to his daughter, Phylicia. These letters take place after the log 'Mothers and Sons'.

In addition to the logs listed above, more can be found at:

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Notes About The Player

I've got a visual impairment, so bear with me on pose times and spelling. It also means that I'll be more apt to duck out of large scenes. There's just too much going on for my eyeballs to keep up with.

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Despite spending most of his time in the forest, Tenebrous has managed to meet a few people and make a few friends.

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