Egg Name Desc Mindvoice
PR-parchment-egg.jpg Signed Parchement Egg

This smooth, ovoid egg is bathed in the soft beige-brown of worn hide. At first glance it appears to be marred, perhaps painted upon by the Weyr's youngsters, but closer inspection reveals that each brown-black blob is a distinct signature of varying size and length, but certainly these are not Pernese names.
Tremello Violin enters softly, a mere twinkling in the back of your mind as gentle blues and whites filter across your vision. All will be fine, the wrongs righted.

Tremello Violin plays more strongly, exploring your mind, your ideals. It questions quietly if you are on the side of right. On its side. Will you fight for freedom?

Tremello Violin receedes softly. Follow me on the path to righteousness. Bring all people independence from tyranny! Then it is gone, asleep in the arms of comfort.
PR-subtle-blade-egg.jpg Subtle Blade Egg

This egg's surface ripples like a piece of cloth. Red, nearly burgundy cloth. It is wrapped loosely and falls into oddly shaded puddles along the bottom of the egg. In one smooth line along the back of the egg, there is a glint of silver and brass. The subtle edge of a blade peeking through the egg's soft, red shroud.
Marching Feet enters strong, proud, and capable. With a gentle but persistent probe it explores your mind, stomping here and there, seeking to find your center: your purpose.

Marching Feet pushes in further. Are you strong? Can you defend our people? Can you lead the march to victory? Without strength you are nothing. Are you strong?

Marching Feet marches away. Off to battle, it says. Will you come? Can you face that part of yourself? Only time will tell.
PR-pocked-pitted-egg.jpg Pocked and Pitted Egg

This egg is far from smooth. Its nearly round surface is covered in craters and pits and coated in shades of white, beige, and grey. Here and there there are tiny glitters and spurts of color… as if something hides tiny along the surface.
Rush of Escaping Air blows past your mind, frantic flashes of blues and greens skipping along behind it. It stops for a moment, examining you. Can we make it?

Rush of Escaping Air pushes further. Can't panic. No… panic will kill us all. We have to think. We have to plan. But how?

Rush of Escaping Air continues on its journey thinking back to you as it goes, follow and all shall be safe, stay and all shall perish.
PR-Battlefield-egg.jpg Battlefield Egg

The scenery of this egg details a grassy knoll under a bright, blue summer sky. Clouds and birds fly above it, staring down at the scene below. When viewed from above, this idyllic scene is marred by death. A single body lays atop the knoll, blood spreading out from it along the hilltop as a single dagger lays lodged in its breast.
Gentle Mist falls on your mind like so many drops of rain, filling it with clouds and thought. The first feeling is love, then intense hatred. A warrior's spirit surrounded by distraction.

Gentle Mist fills your mind, exploring every nook and cranny. Showing you life, death, decadence, and poverty. Can you save these people? It asks. All of them?

Gentle Mist retreats. Its contempt for all clear. Only a true warrior is worthy of its time. Of its love.
PR-swirl-egg.jpg Spastic Swirls Egg

This egg is of average size and shape. There is little to differentiate it from its fellows except for its riotous coloring. Myriad shades swirl over the shell, from those common to dragons to those never seen in any hatching. What color hatchling will emerge from this egg is anyone's guess.
All the Little Voices mumble excitedly. Who is this? Is it one of us? Why are they here? Seemingly thousands of eyes turn to you, watching, examining, questioning. Never fully silent.

All the Little Voices mumble on. Talking over eachother and arguing even as they spread out to explore your mind and thoughts. Flipping through your hopes and dreams like a deck of cards.

All the Little Voices fade momentarily to one. The single word it utters grating like a knife upon flesh, « Live! » Then it is gone along with the others. All Gone.
PR-Pillar-egg.jpg Pillar of Earth Egg

The kiss of the desert is on this rough, sandy egg. It seems to tower, like a pillar of sand and stone amongst its peers. Across its surface glints the occasional blotch of metal or fire. What details hide in this sandy egg?
Rumble of the Earth clatters through your mind, beiges and browns flowing into one another, changing hue and tone as they do. The question the voice asks with its heart is simple: can you run?

Rumble of the Earth seeks deeper within you. Are you strong? Are you funny? Two men walk into a bar, wait, wrong joke. A little brown bubble pops, spraying your mind with color for a moment, having fun?

Rumble of the Earth rolls away, down the hill of your mind, treading every bump, every crevasse, reading you from the inside out.
PR-clockwork-egg.jpg Clockwork Tickings Egg

Strings of all colors combine to wrap and constrain the clock at the center of this egg. When viewed from above the giant knot seems almost insurmountable.
Crash of Mortars rumbles quietly, a distant yet strangely threatening presence pauses at the edge of your mind before advancing inexorably forward. Suddenly, before you can fully realize it, a sudden explosion screams overhead.

Crash of Mortars rifles imperiously through your thoughts and feelings, paying no attention to any protests. It picks out this thought then tosses aside that emotion as so much unwanted garbage. It will have what it wants, no matter the cost.

Crash of Mortars turns away from you now that it has found out what it wanted. It continues on its journey, the threatening noise fading slowly into silence.
PR-Bunnies-Egg.jpg Bunnies and Blades Egg

This egg appears to be the result of a demonic 5-year-old with too much access to food die and an artistic talent. This brightly colored shell is covered from top to bottom with the forms of dead rabbits of all shapes, sizes, and colors, interspersed with various blades, all dipped in blood.
Shimmer of Grey descends on you mind, clouding it, misting over it like so many drops of ale. Grey ale. It is proud and strong, and possibly a tad rotund. It's hard to tell, but the feelings are clear. It wants your support.

Shimmer of Grey has an agenda. It will lead. No. It will control. The very blood of Pern calls to you, to it. Yearning for guidance. Yet in the background is a subtle whisper, You can lead… so long as you do as I say…

Shimmer of Grey flees, its secret out. It's meaning lost. What will it do without power?
PR-Tawny-egg.jpg Tawny Egg

This egg looks… almost… furry? It's smooth surface is a brownish gold of undulating shades of light and dark giving it the aforementioned furry appearance. A glint of darker brown rings the top of the egg and several slashes of pure white reside around its bottom.
Dripping Blood drops on your mind, spattering shades of red and brown across it. It fills every crack and crevassed, pushing, exploring, finding your motives, your fears, and your joys.

Dripping Blood continues to fall around your mind. You can sense its desire to know your weaknesses and your strengths, as if judging you and your worthiness.

Dripping Blood flows from your mind, taking the reds and browns with it until all is darkness. One last thought filters back. What are you afraid of?
PR-Kilroy-Egg.jpg Kilroy Egg

This smooth, white egg appears vandalized. Thick, black lines marr its surface, forming the subtle outline of a face and two hands peeking over a wall. Beneath it is scrawled in messy letters: "Kilroy was here.
Shimmering Golden Clank echoes through your mind, filling it with the glitter of golds and yellows. With a subtle hand it flips through your mind like so many cards, what do you seek and how much will you pay to get it?

Shimmering Golden Clank digs deeper, exploring every nook and cranny of your schemes and plans and goals. Comparing them beside its own. Power, fame, wealth, these are what it seeks, not within you, but within your desires.

Shimmering Golden Clank retreats, tired now. But it is still watching… waiting… for a time when it can claim all of its desires and become one with someone who will lead it there.
PR-Kabuki-Egg.jpg Kabuki Mask Egg

This egg is shaped in a smooth oval but for some unusual bumps on the one side. When viewed at the right angle the bumps resemble symmetrical facial features. This resemblance to a face is further enhanced by the egg's stark white expanse which is accented by two dark almond eye-shaped splotches and an irregularly shaped cupids bow that looks like pouting lips.
Contented Meditation flows calmly through your mind, gently shades of blue and purple permeating your impressions of it. Each clear thought is naught but a fortune cookie, the first perhaps the clearest: Find peace, even in war, only then can you lead.

Contended Meditation continues on, for all it does not push its way into your mind like many others. Still there is a subtle feeling of inquisition as it points out: Only in peace can you find yourself.

Contented Meditation blows away like so many leaves on the wind. It's parting thought perhaps the most confusing of all: Flow like water, not like rock.
PR-Slugger-Egg.jpg Signed Slugger Egg

This small, oblong egg has a veined, woody texture, knots and lines swirling across its surface. Across the top, seemingly burned into the egg, is a dark oval with the words 'Louisville Slugger' branded within it. Beneath the brand is a signature in a thick black ink. It reads 'Dottie Hensen', whoever that is.
Crack of Wood gains your attention with a splintering sound but seems to hesitate before fully entering your mind. It moves forward again, staggering this time and you can tell that what you thought was hesitation isn't that at all. There is something…different…about it, but despite that difference there is an underlying sense of competence.

Crack of Wood lingers, swaying this way, then that, finally steadying. The feeling of competence grows as it gains confidence in your ability, filling your mind until you are sure that it can overcome the odds with your help. But are you the right one? Or will it merely drag you with it down into the addiction?

Crack of Wood fades away with a final sharp slapping sound to announce its retreat. Its exit is steadier than its entrance, but still it wavers a bit as if it could easily fall back into old habits unless someone is there to keep it on the right path. It casts a final thought back at you, “Will you help keep it on the wagon?”
PR-Discord-Egg.jpg Familial Discord Egg

This egg is the soft grey of carved stone and mortar. A little squarer than most, in each perceived corner there stands a cloaked figure. Each holds a blade or candle and glances at another of the individuals around their corner. This is made all the more peculiar by the fact that sometimes the watcher will swear that the individuals will change which way their looking. The view from above is an almost comical juxtaposition of the view from the side. The top views the top of a pine tree, draped here and there with strands of different colors, and some soft candles appear amidst it's branches. Beneath there may even be some odd-shaped boxes of different colors.
Whispers of Subterfuge pass through your mind, picking at every nook and cranny. It knows it can lead. It *should* lead, but it cannot… will not. Instead, it brings power to bear against those who do lead. It will control from behind the shadows, lead the leader, but can it trust you?

Whispers of Subterfuge delves deeper. Exploring every inch of your goals. Do you know how to use the limelight? When to avoid it? When to push others in? Do you know when to hide your intentions? When to manipulate? When to run? Without these traits you are nothing but another pawn.

Whispers of Subterfuge is quiet in sleep, but there is an edge to the gentle snores. Not painful, necessarily, but like a knife pressed flat against your skin. Fail, and you may know its bite. Succeed, and Pern can be yours.
PR-Seas-Egg.jpg Seas of Adventure Egg

Stark blue-green waters envelop this egg in their watery depths. Wave crashes on wave, the occassional white cap frothing across the surface of this egg. Far in the distance a single green-brown island can be seen, white seagulls circling above it against the clear blue skies.
Seabird's Call produces a long cry which echos, vast space on all side it circles your mind. Do want to fly?

Seabird's Call grows fierce. Can you fly through the storm, can you hold the course when light is lost, can you brave the wide open spaces and most of all will you find joy in the flight?

Seabird's Call fades, passing on to open skies, but still the lingering question remains, will you fly with me?
PR-Skies-Egg.jpg Pilot the Skies Egg

This egg is oddly shaped, seeming almost to want to escape the ground, only the minimum necessary to hold it aloft actually maintains contact with the ground. This tiny base is grey and flat, seeming as unhappy with its position as one can imagine. Everything above that poor grey region is the clear blue of a happy sky. Across this sky fly wings of dragons in all colors and shades, flaming and swooping after the silver strands of thread that fall from that clear blue sky, defending Pern and all of her people.
Howling Anger rages through your mind. Flashes of red and orange flaring and burning it. How dare you! How dare you think you can succeed. You're nothing but a waste. You can't fly! You can't even walk!

Howling Anger calms some. Well… maybe you can succeed. But the work will be hard, very hard. You will work from dawn to dusk and then do it again. But the outcome will be worth it, for if you succeed you will ride the strongest, proudest dragon of all times across the skies of Pern.

Howling Anger receedes, lashing out one last time across your mind like an explosion of ire. Work hard! Earn the right to fly!
PR-rwb-egg.jpg Red, White, and Blue Egg

Uneven bands of red, white and blue march across surface of the sizable egg, the colors blending together seamlessly. Its shiny and rather reflective shell is solid and sturdy:there is nothing fragile about this egg.
Spirit of the Heart arrives with a gentle roll of drums and the waving of its colors: red, white, and blue. A gentle fanfare sounds in the background even as a sense of loss flows across your mind in so many images. Galloping horses, a waving flag, dead bodies.

Spirit of the Heart moves on to anger. How dare they hurt people. How dare they allow people to die and kill. Righteousness fills the mindscape. It will save the world from itself. It must, for otherwise everyone will fall.

Spirit of the Heart marches on, another fanfare lingering in its wake. The worlds will be safe once more. It must.
PR-Pearl-Egg.jpg Dawn Pearl Egg

This undersized egg is perfectly round, it's surface smooth and shiny. And at first glance pure white. But like all great pearls, gentle glimmers of blue, silver and grey shimmer along its surface, moving here and there as the light changes. Under some lights, the pearly egg seems to glow yellow-gold, winking silently at the onlooker.
Gentle Cry at Dawn slowly materializes in the recesses of your thoughts, touching lightly on your mind with a hint of poignant sadness. Its presence gives a distinct impression of grief and loss under-shadowing a tremendous feeling of hope.

Gentle Cry at Dawn creeps forward but hesitates, as if waiting for you to invite it in. You sense questions running through your mind. Questions you didn't ask. Move on or mourn for the past? Stay stagnant with memories or focus on the future? What if all is lost?

Gentle Cry at Dawn slowly fades from your awareness, gone but somehow still lingering. Its presence has marked you somehow and the tender touch of it remains deep within your mind with a single question. Can you give it the hope it needs?
PR-Oblong-Egg.jpg Oblong Victory Egg

This egg appears to have come out all wrong. Two of its ends taper, nearly to a point and it is an odd orangey-brown not normally seen in eggs, with white rings encircling its pointed ends and a series of short white lines crossing a longer one that runs along its middle.
Cheering Crowd enters your mind, chanting one name over and over again. Is it yours? Or someone else's? It's hard to tell, like it's echoing down a tunnel, but the support is there. Whoever they're cheering must be quite the person.

Cheering Crowd thins to one voice. You can do it. Win the game. Save the day. Bring home the bacon. You can do it. You can do it. You can do it. Then the chanting of the name returns. One name, but whose?

Cheering Crowd quiets, receding back to sleep and nothingness until their cheer is needed again. Someday.
PR-Strategy-Egg.jpg Spread of Strategy Egg

From the side, this egg seems to have black and white statues of varying shapes and sizes against a green background. However, when viewed from above, a series of black and white squares splay themselves out , the statues turning quickly to shaded motes against them. The pattern is difficult to see, but it appears black will have checkmate in two moves.
Gently Clicking Piece enters your mind like felt on stone, soft, but hard at the same time. The imagery is neat and orderly, gentle squares of black and white dance an ordered dance. The mind behind the squares is calm, cool, calculating.

Gently Clicking Piece takes a move. What next? How will you counter. Lead with a runner or retreat the castle? It doesn't matter, and yet it does. Is winning everything or nothing? There's a pause, then it answers it's own question: winning is nothing if you don't enjoy the game.

Gently Clicking Piece surrenders, Lord Holder laying on its side. You've won. Now what? Lead the world or hide from it. Choose.
PR-Runners-Egg.jpg Cards and Runners Egg

This egg is a mish-mash of mingled, blurred shapes: a runner here, a diamond there. After some contemplation the scene resolves itself. Runners race around the egg in all the colors runners come in. Beyond that scene no matter which side it is viewed from is a simple wooden table. Four men in odd dress sit at the table, hats pulled low, cigarettes lit in mouths, staring at the playing cards they hold before them.
Rumbling of Hooves vibrates slightly beyond your hearing, a vaguely subliminal stampede awakening in your mind, distantly thundering but growing closer. You sense a hidden motive in the approach, but are unsure as to what it is.

Rumbling of Hooves invades your mind fully with the effortless gait of a runner carefully selected and bred for speed, racing through your thoughts and feelings with a somewhat callous disregard for your desires, searching for..weakness?

Rumbling of Hooves races away but a dusty veil remains behind, floating gently in the air to conceal its retreat. A feeling of smug satisfaction reaches you, triggering faint alarm as quietly mocking laughter floats back on the breeze. You are left with a vague sense of loss as the last echo of sound fades to silence.
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