Ayred was considered a remarkable man. So remarkable in fact that he had to spred his fame, wealth and genes around. To hear him say it, he was unbeatable at dragon poker, fighting Thread, winning bets, wooing ladies, and racing runners - and more. To a certain extent, he was right. He was excellent at runner racing, better than most at betting, and a reasonable poker player. He had hardly ever fought Thread, however, but what he knew about it was more than enough to make up fantastic stories of saving farms and cotholds with hacked together agenothree tanks. He never claimed he had stood for a dragon, he hadn't, as that was something that anyone could verify.

Ayred was, however, dead on perfect when it came to wooing ladies. Ayred was handsome, and not just to a degree. Everything about him looked amazing. He was tall, broad-shouldered and chisel-chinned, with eyes the color of cherry wood - a beautiful shade which some said contributed to his name when his mother saw him and exclaimed about their color - and hair that almost matched it of a rich shining auburn. He kept a neatly trimmed beard, which accented the expressions he donned. He was in point of fact strong and fit, used to travel and the great outdoors. He had no Threadscars, but one dueling scar across his left shoulder which made ladies swoon to hear of the fiercely fought battle that gave it to him. And that too was no lie: he'd bested a hot-headed Lordling at racing his runner, won the bet against the young man, and attracted his girlfriend all in one afternoon. But let it never be said that Ayred was not an equally wise young man at the time - once that wound had been gotten, he yeileded and made amends by helping muck the Lordling's runner stalls for a week, hard work which made him a bit more humble than he started out.

He was born to merchants, third son and fifth child of a couple who did nothing but barter and hawk wares. But he was more than they were, and it was clear from the start. Though none questioned his parentage, except perhaps his father, he was almost nothing like them. He did want to see the world, he did want to challenge notions and seek new people and lands. But ... he didn't want to sell stuff to do it! At an early age, he could recite cothold names and roads, and learned to read them on signs not much after. He didn't sing very well, which disappointed the Harpers when they learned of this fiery young boy. But one took him on his Journeyman travels for a year just to see what it was like (and, most likely, to alleviate his family from his endless questions and annoyances). He loved it. He was fit for it, the Harper said, but he wouldn't have a place in Harper Hall... and since he detested the merchantry aspect of his family life, that was out too. "We call them 'rogues'," someone once said, but he wasn't a negative influence on anyone he met, really.

Intense, yes. Memorable, surely. He was equal parts hero and castaway, at least in the eyes of the young girls who saw him - and boys their age would emulate him as though he was Robin Hood or another slightly more Pernese equivalent of the era. Perhaps his one flaw, however, was that he couldn't settle down. He was always on the move. True, he tended to cycle around certain ports and townships, even visiting a Weyr now and then and serving as a guard on the trip from the Hold below. He envied the dragon riders, who didn't, for their freedom in the skies.

Ayred had his share of scrapes with irate fathers, in Holds, Halls and even that Weyr. By the time he was twenty seven, he knew of at least six children he'd sired - but that was a fact that made him proud, even if he couldn't really admit it in public. He didn't want to settle, but he loved the way a mother held her child, and when he saw his first born he felt for a moment like the life he'd been living was a complete lie... That feeling faded after a month or so, but since he was an apt provider in general, whenever he discovered a new child he made sure to send marks to the mother - and sometimes, even gifts appropriate to her. He never forgot any of them, these women he bedded, for all of them he claimed had their individual charm and quality. Like sampling wine, beer, ale, water, juice and liquor... Each lovely in their own way, and each of them left reasonably happy with the situation. Only one went on to marry some minor Lord, and even then she made sure that her child with Ayred stayed with another of his kin when she was asked to give up the bastard child.

Love, if not a family, was something so important to Ayred and it was clear to most of the women he found himself with. That he easily fell in love and for whatever reason at the moment, concerned some - but never for very long. He'd never bring a flower to one who didn't like them, or a handpurse to a girl without money. (Unless of course, he put some money in it, which he'd been known to do.) He never, ever said the wrong name in addressing them even though at least two of them looked remarkably like one another.

Thus, this sire of many and father to none traveled about Pern enjoying his life, until a disasterous fall in his fortieth year caused a serious injury. He'd been riding from one Hold to another, and a ground-quake struck. A strong one, it startled his runner and since it was both nearby and lengthy the runner finally bucked him off and trampled him, before being crushed by the landslide the quake caused. Ayred's legs were already battered by the fall and horse hooves, but the stone which landed upon him also crushed his pelvis. He could do nothing but scream for an hour, until finally, aid arrived in the form of a pair of dragons. While they dug he and his runner out, all he could do was thank them once and pass out from profound pain.

The green dragon had eaten the runner, sort of as payment and sort of because she was not the brightest dragon - and besides, it was already dead. They did rescue his packs and few possessions from it, before she chewed it up, which was a happy discovery after being told of the accident - Ayred didn't remember most of it. In fact he didn't remember the next week or more, going in and out of shock even with the liberal application of medicines. The dragons had of course gone out to the Hold he had been heading toward, since it was near the epicenter of the quake, to help with any damages. They found several dead, many injured, and plenty of rubble - nearly the whole place, being built in the looser caverns in the low hills there, had been shaken to bits. Other dragons had come to rescue those who were still alive, and take their belongings up to the Weyr while they figured out what to do. So Ayred wasn't alone in the infirmary, by any means. His were among the more impressive injuries, though one man had lost his arm while working a saw, and another woman lost the use of her whole right side for a time, when her cook pans all dropped onto her head.

Would he ever walk again, that was what he needed to know as he came out from his groggy state and began taking assesment of his condition. The weyrhealer, a ridiculously tall and beautiful dark-skinned woman named Virin, clucked her tongue and pressed her lips together, and blinked. "Possibly, but it will be very slow going. The only things you didn't break were your feet, which is good, because then I'd have to have said 'no'. Little fiddly things like toes tend to slow healing of everything else because they're almost always in pain. Big bones like your pelvis and thighs... those will heal reasonably well and sound. We've had you bound up like that for a reason after all."

Ayred checked his state of being and it was true: he was ... well, he was bound up like a mummy from the waist down, suspended by poles and ropes, and ... he had tubes coming from him in weird places... Once he noticed that, he saw a tiny and irksome smile creep onto Virin's delicate lips. "Yes, you're going to have to get used to those... We can't risk infection and we also can't risk moving you too much to wipe you clean when you defecate. Just feel lucky we know how to do that, because again... if I had to keep moving you to wipe your bottom, you would never walk again - I guarantee that." She turned and walked over to another portion of the infirmary to check on someone else, and Ayred leaned his head back onto the plump pillow. It wasn't bad here at all, even if he had a pipe for shit coming out of one end, and ... well, yes.

Word had gotten out that the little Copper Hold had been destroyed, and there were people coming to Dragonhope to visit relatives and check up on who had made it through and who hadn't. And, of course, down in the ruins of that hold were looters and the like... Chased off by one or more dragons who had been placed there to make sure such things didn't make a bad situation worse.

One of the women who had perished in the quake was the mother of Ayred's youngest, a daughter with hair the color of the namesake where she was born, a lovely copper shade. She was but eight, and was now in the dubious care of her father for the time being. But dubious... couldn't properly be the word one applied, when looking at this man and his child mourn for the loss of the mother. He was genuine in his anguish, he clung to the girl as much as she to him. Though they hadn't been around each other much, it was clear there was a bond between them. It was the same when a nine-turn old boy showed up with his mother, a cousin to another family who'd died in the quake visiting loved ones. They chatted, they hugged, cried...

Virin called her younger sister Opal to the infirmary to chat about things - but mostly to point out this 'weird observation'.

"It's not weird, he's a good man," Opal told her sister. "Hm. Well... I wonder..." She seemed lost in thought - or, Virin correctly assessed, she was speaking to her white dragoness outside mentally.

"Do not tell me you've searched him," Virin warned her sister, "because I'll have to kill your dragon then."

"No - no," Opal laughed, "but his ... his children seem very bright, very strong willed. Camdnith wants to meet more of them."

It took several months before Ayred was in a state of repair that allowed the catheters to be removed (ooooh let's not get into how badly that hurt!) and was to now begin therapy to start gaining lost muscle tone and balance back. He could turn over, pull himself up with his arms on the pole above without pain. Virin stated those were good signs of recovery. His attitude was never a problem. Though it was clear earlier on that he was in great pain, he wanted to do anything he could - probably to take his mind from things, including the pain. When he was well enough to sit up for longer periods and be moved, he took to wheeling around the Weyr in a special chair, exploring as was his wish as a youth. He bought his daughter and son around, and though they knew he couldn't handle them sitting on his lap for stories or hugs, they stayed close to him.

When the others moved on, many finding homes with distant relatives or friends, and a few staying on in the Weyr essentially doing the same duties they'd had before like cooking and sewing, Ayred was still recovering. He'd always have his daughter, but his youngest son? Also came with him, left with a gentle touch by his mother who went to help the families in need. And though Ayred still had the burning desire to be on the move and traveling, he discovered a niche that no one - not even he - could have imagined.

He stayed with the young children when they were idle, telling them stories - many even true - about himself and the places he'd been. He had a good speaking voice, it was a pity he never learned to hold a tune. When there were a dozen such young children sitting quietly listening with wide eyes and open mouths, the Headwoman watched from a nearby room and nudged one of the drudges. "Now there's a sight you don't see often, a traveling man who's greatest ability is with the kids..."

And not just because he could leave them, as she thought he'd be. He really loved them, he really wanted to be around them. Perhaps they reminded him of his own youth and starry-eyes, but more likely he just enjoyed seeing their reactions to questions - he answered everything he could. Everything. He liked to talk, laughed one of the Scribes, even if it wasn't about himself. But more, he also knew how to get information that he didn't already have. Here in a Weyr he was unlikely to start making things up. He had no desire to taint the education of what might become great riders some day.

"You know, we have no Weyrharpers," the Weyrwoman said when he was wheeling back into his own dorm, out of the infirmary but nearby so that if anything happened to him, help would be quick. "But we still have need of such a person as you. Look at how you've handled them," Kira smiled. "I'd like you to stay on, and work with the candidate groups, perhaps even the Weyrling masters, as well as the lower staff. We have a constant flow of younglings to take care of, and you seem like you really enjoy holding them together."

Ayred gazed at her, if he'd been standing she would hardly come up to his chest. But this woman had the air of age and wisdom about her, even though she didn't look much older than he. (And she was, he'd learned, at least twenty turns his senior!) Blinking, Ayred nodded and said, "I do enjoy it. It's ... I never even thought about it. But you know I love kids, and weyrbrats ... well, they're wilder and more inquisitive than I ever was as a youth. I would be happy to funnel information into their little brains, if that's your wish."

Kira laughed, "well put it that way and I'll think twice!" But it was agreed. He would remain in the Weyr and help instruct children, organize them when needed - when dignitaries or visitors came, there was always need for more help in some areas and to keep the brats out of the way to boot. As a side thought, however, Kira added, "My daughter Opal said she searched your youngest two," which elicited a strange wide-eyed gasp she hadn't expected from him. "I have to wonder... You've spoken about other children. I... would like to meet them. Have them brought here to meet you, and see if they're all made of the same stuff."

"Well my stuff is pretty sturdy," Ayred winked and Kira guffawed. "I haven't seen some of them in quite a while, and shards - the eldest, he'd be almost twenty!"

"Ayred, the way you talk about your relations with women, I'm surprised your eldest doesn't have great grandchildren of his own." Kira chuckled and walked out of his dorm, to make plans.

Those plans came to fruition over time. By the time that Ayred was able to walk without assistance and even give a little jump or jog here and there without any sign of pain, three more young redheaded or red-eyed children had arrived with their mothers. They had known of one another, he never made it seem like they were "the only one" - they knew they were among many such parents. Most got along pretty well, and particularly when they realized that they were bringing their sons and daughters to be searched, at the request of a Weyrwoman no less, they eagerly agreed to come. For some it would be their one and only visit to a weyr on dragonback - for others, their one and only trip outside their small homesteads!

Ayred had had a special chair made for him to sit comfortably in long sessions with children, it was a nice thing - tall backed, but with simple ringed openings fit for children's faces to peer through, well padded but not so cushy that he'd sink into it... It was from this chair that he surveyed his brood. He wasn't positive this was all of them, there were ten here, and he knew there would have been other women pregnant without him knowing. But... frankly, ten was more than enough! And, as he'd said, the eldest son Anored was past his ninteenth turnday by weeks. The youngest girl, Tayred, was just turned nine the sevenday before. Anyone could see the resemblances they bore to both he and their mothers. There was one set of twins, both boys, but even aside from that they all had beautiful hair, stunning eyes, and strong features. They would all be taller than average, and almost all of them had the same nervous fidget - one he'd mastered here at the Weyr due to not being able to easily shuffle his feet around when idle.

"So they've told you why you're here, I trust?" Ayred asked, and they all nodded, some more eagerly than others. "Well, we know you two, little ones," he glanced at Redayne and Yalred who giggled (and Yalred said 'I'm not little!' but his half-sister elbowed him in the ribs and he shut up). "So now... the rest. Opal found you, though we've other Searchriders here at Dragonhope," he loved saying 'we' and 'dragonhope' in the same sentence, "so I'm going to ask you all to be patient and let them find you. That way, we know it's not forced if they do Search."

"What if we don't want to be searched at all?" Grumbled one girl, Leredda. "I've been working at the Guild and--"

"You're a weaver, I know," Ayred said, "and I've been assured that even if you are Impressed on a queen," that gave the girl a gasp and a blush, "You'll be able to continue your craft here. They've very good crafters. It took three to make this chair, and frankly Leredda I'd love to see a blanket or pillow made by you on it." She blushed and smiled, nodding approval of the idea.

So the children scattered, making themselves useful and leaving Ayred and the women he loved to their own devices. They listened raptly as well, as he described the ground-quake, what he recalled of it. He'd heard such things about what happened to Copper Hold, he recalled its every den and hall, and knew it was now nothing more than piles of broken stone. The one rider who'd born him a son was proud of him - he was no different from his youth, a little worn around the edges and with a softer smile on his handsome face perhaps. Almost all the women really enjoyed being around him still, though they were practical enough not to fight over him as they resided for the duration in the weyr. Even Ayred admitted that ... ten was enough to keep anyone busy. Plus, he had duties with the others in the Weyr! There didn't need to be any more little red-kids around.

Once the group broke up and things got more to normal over the next few days, Ayred got to know some of his children a little better. The eldest, Anored, had been working with the Miner's Guild, with a strong back and eager smile. He could spot ore within a rock with an eagle's eye, but what he liked to do the most was run the bellows and forge tools. He claimed, and his sire laughed heartily at this, that the sweat it produced made the girls swoon and help bathe and soothe his aching ... bulging... muscles.

Kyred, his oldest girl at just over 18 turns, was an attractive, sedate but pleasant young woman who had spent a lot of time in her mother's design classes. Of all the children, she was most like her mother - charming but she seemed to "know her place" among them. As a Lady, she'd been expected to marry - but as a bastard, she could hardly expect to do so without raising eyebrows and anger. So Kyred kept to her work, brushing off any attempts at romance, knowing that any true suitor would have to deal with her heritage sooner or later. She was very apt with embroidery and stitchcraft, where her half-sister Leredda worked more with looms and broadcloth creations. Between the two of them, they had it in their heads to outfit everyone with some kind of distinct clothing - something in red perhaps...

Elared was a bit of a hothead, and oh how he was like his mother. Sadly she'd died birthing her husband's fourth child, and Elared had no more connection to that man than a mouse did with a cat. Not that Elared would ever compare himself to a mouse. A ferret perhaps... but never a mouse. He'd grown a bit jumpy, keeping out of his stepfather's path, but participated in the lives of his siblings as much as that would allow.

Oddly enough Redayne was to be the very tallest of the bunch, and she stood taller than her mother (which was saying a lot, she could easily compare to Virin's height!). Redayne was, like her mother, a dancer of tremendous talent. She quite unlike her sire had a beautiful singing voice, though she was never interested in becoming a Harper - she didn't want to tell tales, she wanted to sing and dance and entertain! She'd seen quite a lot of the same towns and Holds that Ayred had, they had much in common.

The twins Ibared and Otared were crafters with their eyes on technology - if their eldest brother found ores to be fascinating to heat and pound, they found their fascination in intricate clockworks and devices. Otared was much more technically inclined than his brother, Ibared seemed to be Ayred's father come to life before his eyes - he was a salesman and could take a broken cartwheel and sell it to anyone. They laughed freely, and were extremely charming when found in a pair. Taken apart though, they both acted like their mechanisms: there was something missing, they would miss a beat, miss a cue, wait for a reply or retort that didn't come. It seemed they were incomplete without one another.

Pretty Leredda enjoyed her time with the older sister she never knew she had, but also seemed quite content to weave or plan projects on her own. She was highly focused, just like her mother, and also just like her mother disliked smelly flowers and strong scents. Her mother was a green rider here at Dragonhope, one of the riders who'd helped with the Copper Hold cleanup. However Leredda had been sent to the Weaver hall, like her mother had been before becoming a rider, shown how to run the looms, and enjoyed it greatly.

Uilred turned a quirky smile into a laugh, he the innkeeper's daughter's son... He knew the ways of brewing and stewing, loved to talk and enjoyed company more than anything in the world. That he'd now found a brood full of companions was probably the highlight of his twelve turns. Of all the women these children were born to, pehaps Ayred loved his mother the most... and knew that she had to return to her inn. Hopefully she'd return knowing that her son would become a rider!

Yalred - though not a little one, was not 'big' either. But his background with runners drew Ayred's attention. They shared a lot of their love of horses, and Yalred took to heart the lesson of his father's injuries. Never stay on a nervous runner - especially if the walls were falling down around you! Yalred had tried to assert that he'd have been able to calm the beast ... And for some reason, Ayred believed him. There was something more to his confidence in handling runners than just being born to a stable hand.

And then there was little Tayred. Her mother was a cook, an herbalist... She would be greatly missed as would her grandmother - both of them had a bit of Healer Hall training before settling at Copper Hold. And thus, since she spent so much time watching her father heal while in the infirmary at Dragonhope, Tayred decided that if she didn't stand or impress, she'd want to help people with their injuries. She was a smart, brave girl, sensitive to needs. Brave in the way that a healer looks at a wound and knows not to panic or get sick.

So over the course of the next few days... each and every one of them were Searched. A couple by K'roohan the lead searchrider, another few by H'aeny... others by F'stan, more by Opal. Over dinner, during lunch, in the middle of the night, while watching the runners graze, while learning how to interpret the drums in the heights. Each was different but each bore the striking power of will that the dragons looked for in a candidate. Some seemed destined to ride against Thread, while others would perform more subtle or defensive tasks. But it was certain that now they'd need a place to send them - there were no eggs on Dragonhope's sands just now, and probably wouldn't be until the Weyrwoman's queen allowed her subordinates to fly and clutch.

So... where? Where came in the form of an urgently penned letter asking for candidates to attend a Weyr's final clutching. Well, multiple clutchings, apparently - there had been a frenzy of mating at Talis Weyr, and this was just as they'd disbanded and begun sending everyone off to their new homes! On one hand, it was a fine thing to not need a Weyr around - on the other... now that they had eggs again they had to re-import people just for the occasion!

Off to Talis... and there perhaps, to Impress! While it was clear that Tayred and Yalred were a bit young to be standing, ten candidates was a boon to the busy sands. In fact there were plenty of other groups, including several spares who would return to Dragonhope with this bunch!

When they did come back, it was as though a family had solidified from this mess of widely tossed children. To get their attention - and it would almost always be all of them or at least a few - all you had to do was yell "Hey Red!" and heads would turn.