Dragon Masters

The Lady Kitsunerisu

The Lady Kitsunerisu

Den Mother

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The Factions

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~*~*~Dragon Masters~*~*~

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The Dragon Masters are the riders of dragons. They are bonded to their dragon and feel what they feel, hear what they hear, see what they see. It is a bond unlike any other. The sentient consciousness of the Rider is what keeps the dragon from being a savage and ruthless creature like his or her untamed kin. They are the enemies of the Empire.


A Dragon Master lives as long as his or her Dragon does, provided that he nor his dragon is killed.

~*~*~Dragon Slavers~*~*~

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Dragon Slavers are men and women who work for the Empire. They find freshly hatched, wild dragons and clamp them in irons. They torture them until the submit to command. Most die from the process, but some persevere and go to the strongest generals. These dragons are insane and savage. The practically have no mind of their own anymore. Becoming more like machines. There is no bond between a Slaver and it's Dragon.

~*~*~The Empire~*~*~

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The Empire is a kingdom of races that hate the dragons. They don't know that it is only the untamed dragons that burn their crops and eat their livestock, so they wish to eradicate the Dragon Masters as well. They use the Dragon Slaves to assist them in this. The Dragon Slaves don't live for very long. They last ten years at the max because of all the abuse they go through.




~*~*~Races to play.~*~*~

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~*~*~Wood Elf~*~*~

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The wood Elves are a short and pretty people. Their skin is tanned with their time in the sun. They are the masters of the forest, choosing to live away from the human villages. They surround themselves with wildlife. This race is against the Empire and wish to save the Dragons from a cruel fate. It is rare for a Wood Elf to be a part of the Empire, but it isn't unheard of. Wood Elves are one of the more likely of species to be bonded to a Dragon. They rely on their bows. They are proficient in dagger play, bows and earth magic.

One_of_the_Grey_by_Leviathan_IX.jpg





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Drow

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The Drow are the dark cousins to Wood Elves. Their eyes have no pupils and are solidly coloured. Their skin is a dark ebony black and they are slightly taller than your average human. They live underground in cave systems (thanks to the Wood Elves banning them from the surface) and often come up to the surface to pillage and kill. There is a small faction of Drow that live in the cave system under the royal palace in the Empire that can use the cave systems to move around easily and do the Empires bidding. They rely mostly on long range weapons and their magic. Drow are proficient in spears, slings, and dark magic.


drow_by_helmuttt-d3its65.jpg


~*~*~Orcu~*~*~

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The Orcs are Mercenaries, thugs, and bandits. They have either green or black skin and they are very tall. This Race has a very bad chance of owning a dragon unless they got it from a Dragon Slave company. They are proficient in two handed swords, hammers, and Halberds.


Orc_by_Dajotoy.jpg


~*~*~Humans~*~*~

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Humans come in a variety of shapes and sizes and are proficient in anything that you the writer wishes them to be. As it is with the other races. Humans are the second most likely race to have a dragon bond to them.


Untamed Dragons: These are NPC's and can be controlled by anyone at any time. They are savage beasts that kill anything in their path

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Vallarion stood on a plain of blood. Bodies and burning buildings were scattered all around her, blood was pouring from the wounds of bodies that no longer pumped blood. A tear crept to her eye and she wiped it away angrily. This carnage was horrific. She couldn't stand to look at it. This was all because of the untamed dragons and their need to kill and destroy. If only they could be bonded to a human or Elf.


All of this carnage would disappear. She closed her eyes and tried to contain her emotion. Even after all these years she still couldn't contain them. Rage was a slow burning ember within her and she wanted nothing more than to rip the heart out of the Dragon that did this.


As if on cue Vallarion heard the beating of wings. They weren't the small wings of an owl or a bird, these were large, leathery wings. A shadow came over her and Vallarion dodged to the side. She landed on her hands and then smoothly rolled back onto her feet. She turned and came face to face with a pure red eye.


“My, you're a big boy, are you not?” she asked the Dragon. Of course it didn't understand her. The Dragon looked at her for a moment longer before opening its great maw. Vallarion was hit with the stench of decaying bodies being cooked very slowly. Vallarion jumped up, narrowly missing being a dragons chew toy. She landed on the beasts head and began running down its body, trying to get away from it.


“Kivarria!”


She screamed inside her mind. The body she was running on was black scaled and very slippery. It took the dragon a moment to realize that she evaded him, but when he did he moved very quickly. Vallarion couldn't get a good grip on the slippery scales and she fell to the ground. It was a bit of a drop and the landing took the breath right out of her.


She tried to move away quickly, but she didn't move quickly enough. She felt something sharp stab into her side and she let out a scream that echoed throughout the plain. Her screaming was cut off as she was flung. She flew through the air and landed on the ground in a roll. She only stopped when she hit a building that, thankfully, wasn't on fire.


Mistress!


She heard a voice scream into her head. Her already aching head flared in pain and she cried out. The ground began rhythmically shaking. She opened her eyes to see the dragon making a run for her. She let out a sigh and got up, ready to defend herself in any way that she could. Pain filled her, but she did her best to ignore it and not let it cloud her mind. Her booted foot slid in the charred grass as she readied herself to run. She was saved the trouble, however. She heard leathery wings beat at the sky and a loud roar shook the ground. Vallarion's eyes traveled upwards and she saw a red blur rush past her.


The other Dragon skidded to a stop, its attention crawling away from Vallarion, thankfully. It stretched its large wings. The length easily coming to thirty feet. Its chest expanded and it let out a torrent of fire in the newcomers direction. The newcomer easily dodged and twisted in the air. Her tail swung forward and scraped across the younger dragons face. It let out a roar of pain and one of its clawed feet came up to cover his left eye.


~~


Kivarria berated herself as she saw the side of her masters dress turn red with blood. Kivarria was too slow and she had gotten hurt. Rage filled her and she tackled the black dragon to the ground. Her claws bit through his scales and he let out a roar of pain as they tumbled to the ground in a mass of wings, limbs, and snapping teeth. Kivarria was roughly pushed off of the other dragon and she rolled on the ground. He was on top of her in seconds.


She felt something surround her forearm and she roared in pain as teeth bit deep. She heard the sound of Vallarion screaming in the distance as her own forearm began hurting. She couldn't let her master feel the pain that she was feeling. She angled her lower body so that she could put her tail in a position to attack.


The younger dragon saw what she was doing and bit deeper. She let out a roar of pain just as her master did. Instead of doing the tail she moved her head and her gaping maw found purchase in his shoulder. She bit as deeply as she could and her back claws began clawing at his soft underbelly. He let out a roar as he detached his mouth from her arm. He tried to get away, but Kivarria took her wings with their little hook claws and held him in place by the ebony horns that graced the top of his head.


“Mistress, are you okay?”


She asked Vi.


“No.”


“Would you kindly come over here and rip his heart out?”


Vallarion's face was graced with a savage smile and she ignored the pain in her side and took out her two daggers. Each were ebony handled with blades made out of white dragon teeth. Courtesy of Kivarria's baby teeth that fell out over seventy years ago. She rushed forward. The male dragon was the larger of the two and looked like he should have been able to rip himself from her grip.


Vallarion slid under the Dragons chest and stabbed both of her daggers up. The dragon let out one last roar before nearly falling on Vi. It was pushed away and Vallarion looked at it with just a hint of remorse. It was one of the mad. When a dragons eyes turn red there is no helping the madness that surrounded its mind like a fog. It probably hadn't even been hungry when it slaughtered this poor village.


~~


As you have just seen there is a war happening. A war that is pointless and will lead to only one outcome, Death.


Dragons and the beings of earth are at war. Dragons are savage and brutal creatures who have no remorse and eat and kill as they please. These dragons have no rider.


There are Dragons out there that have a conscious. These are dragons that are paired with Sentient beings. Dragon Masters. They awaken the intelligence in a Dragon that has been dormant for so long. Dragon Masters have been forced into hiding, choosing to live in the natural home of the Dragons, caves.


The Empire is whom they are fighting. The Empire is the largest army in the land of Elisium. They have been ordered by the king to kill all Dragons, even the Riders. Though, they think that Riders are evil and that their dragons are still mindless beasts. They will stop at nothing and use anything to see the end of the Dragons. They will even use dragons themselves.


Are you with the Empire or the Dragon Masters? It is your choice.


Choose Wisely.


~~


*Name:


*Race:


*Age (Dragon Masters live as long as their dragons do):


*Gender:


*Appearance (Either Picture or Descriptive Description.):


*Personality:


*Bio:


*Weapons:


*Dragon Master or Empire:


~~


Dragon Sheet:


*Name:


*Age (Dragons who are tamed live as long as their master.):


*Gender:


*Personality:


*Appearance:
 
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When I made it I wasn't thinking about Inheritance, but then I realized that it did look like it. But no, I didn't intentionally base if off of that series. :)
 
i know what you mean i did the same thing with one of my RP's i based it off of the book the sea of trolls without really meaning to. The base of the story line is in it but that is about it i think its a very good idea and i would like to be apart of it.
 
Feel free to join, Prestone. Just make a character sheet, but please be descriptive. :)  
((Xenomorphs character.))


Name: Vendetta Hartwig


Race: Human


Age: 33


Appearance: Vendetta is much larger than the average men of his age; standing at about 6'4''. His skin is slightly darckened from years of working in the sun, giving him a type of tan color. He is what one would consider 'average' weight for a man of his size, in a sense that he is not slim nor fat. His muscle definition tends to show when his apparel consists of short sleeved clothing. His face has no sign of facial hair whatsoever, but he allows his hair to grow to a certain length, usually around shouler length or so. This sometimes becomes a problem for him, since it can obscure his vision. He has sharp, yet calming Sky Blue eye which are hardly ever seen since his hair gets in the way of that.


Personality: Kind if the sly dog, Vendetta always wears a grin. (Not necessarily a smile, as he will only flash those around sometimes for his own benefit.) He doesn't really care for the beings of others except for his own and that of his dragon's. (Unless there is the rare situation in which he cares enough for another person.) He has also shown to be sarcastic at times. He isn't the type of person to easily blow a fuse, unless one would find a way to seriously irritate him to the point of breaking his peaceful demeanor. Athough, he's easily dissapointed by the actions of others and holds high standards for anyone that he meets. He is very headstrong and adamant, but is also very persistent when he sets his mind to something; and doesn't quit until he has accomplished his goal to the farthest of his ability. (He finds it distasteful when others do things 'half-assed'.) V doesn't rush into anything, especially a battle, without finding a way to keep somebody from hurting someone else. This includes him harming another person. He finds a type of 'discuss', in the overly 'goody-goody two shoes' type off person. Not in a sense that makes him evil, just in a sense that their costant actions are to help every and anybody out, while also perposefully going out of their way to stop some form of tyranny.


Biography: This is to be told throughout the Role Play.


Weapon(s): He carries a scythe with a collapsible blade, which is formed from Terrasque's old discarded shell. It is relatively heavy, and has minor abilities that stem from the Earth element. The origin behind the svythe is quite special to him. The staff which holds the blade, was enchanted by a Wood Elf's groups most skilled sorcerer; for aiding them when they were in need of help. The shell itself came from Terrasque, his Earth element Drake, which was discarded during the transmission from juvelnile to adolescent, and from adolescent to adult. The blade itself never really dulls, and shows no sign of scratches or wear. The blade is extremely sharp and is tinged a dark brown. It has a serated edge along the bottom and a smooth edge along the top. The enchanted staff is also dark brown color and bares symbols along the side of it, which occasionally glow white when the weapon is held.


Dragon Master or Empire: Dragon Master


Name: Subterrasque (Terrasque for short.)


Age: 33


Gender: Male


Personality: Terrasque is more of a multi-personality type of character who can at times be lazy and then act energetic at a moment's notice. It is not known why he is like this, he just is. Growing with Vendetta, he's learned how to act around him, and knows what pleases him. He's grown to the point where completing things to the finest of his calibur, has been 'hard wired' into his mind. Because of this, he is never one to dissapoint, no matter what the situation. Being an Earth dragon, he takes pride in his vast knowlege, almost to the point where he'll boast about it sometimes. This tends to help him get around Vendetta's hard headedness or constant persistence. He can be slightly envious of winged dragons, due to the fact that he has no wings whatsoever.


Appearance: Terrasque is a bipedal Earth element Drake, who easily stands at three times Vendetta's height when on all fours. He is a drak brown almost black color, with a long, almost slender body, granting him maneuverability around most attacks. He has six limbs, two pairs of arms, and a pair of legs. The top row of arms are long and heavily armored with a craggy almost stone-like skin, that follows a backwards patter in multiple overlapping rows, ending in multi-plated, spiked, shoulders. Each hand and foot has five digits, including an opposable thumb where applicable. The lower pair of arms are half the size of his upper pair of arms and are slightly less armored. They are armored in the same pattern as his other arms, but these are used more for human interaction, mainly because his other hands are just too big. The space between each digit is webbed, granting the ability to maneuver easily underwater. (Which sometimes gives him the appearance of a moving island.) His body is much like his rider's in a sense; not too light nor too heavy given his , but rather 'in the middle'. Most of his weight lies in his body armor and muscle. His underbelly is unlike that of the other typical dragon, actually sustaining a said sturdiness of stone. His spine is spiked with sharp stalagmite like protrusions, which start from the back of his head, going down his long neck, down his spine, and ending at the tiip of his tail. His tail is barbed with tiny needle-like stones covered in a type of toxic secretion, which induces hallucination. The back of his head has twelve horns, six on each side, which arch backwards, giving him a type of regal look. His two pairs of eyes are muck like that of the Drows, in a sense that there is no sign of pupils, corneas, or irises. It is just a single, jewel-like jade geen color. His mouth is somewhat long, and filled with sharp row of teeth, specifically meant for cutting meat. His canines tend to stick out of his mouth at times, making his regal look slightly intimidating.
 
Name: Arrovad of Thamur


Race: Half Drow/ Half human


Age: 125 (young adult for a half blood)


Gender: male


Appearance: Arros (pronounced Arrohs)* is of an imposing stature standing a little over 8 heads tall (6'6), the male bears a structure of a hero from an age lost. His cut, angular physique attests to the hybrid girth of barbarian and lean of the Drow. The male's Drow features are heavily accented save the unique feature of silvery white facial hairs. Arros skin is also of an unusual nature with an obsidian glass quality due to the melanin rich cells of the Thamur primitives. These primal barbarian tribes skin have rich earth colored complexions ranging from an olive beige to a dark tan and copper. Mixed with the solid opaque of Drow flesh, the epidermis demonstrates a shimmering effect.


Bio-Arro's story is bread in tragedy a product of war and rape; Arro's Drow mother committed suicide out of disgrace as she could not bear the child's origins. Ostracized in the Under-Dark as a bastard child of a human, his bloodline considered him as a second class citizen with the rights of an indentured servant. So with the rebellious whims of youth he fled the confines of the Under-Dark. His most distinguished features is the unique pupils of his human optics, amazing emergence of irises from a cloudy burgundy mass off-sett by flecks of gold from his infra-vision. At times his orbitals are as white as drow at other times, animalistic with feline slits.


Armor type- Drow Mythral ringmail. (Onyx in color)


*Drow mythral is enchanted to not make chinks & clanging sounds when moving briskly.


Weapons- Paired Scimitar of contact neuro-poison. The two weapons are created from Thamur 1024 Carbon to iron steel comparable to Damascus steel.Each hilt is wrapped in stretched manta ray skin. Both pommels are do-deca-hydron (20 sided faced with a lead core plated in steel). (The lead pommel doubles as a bludgeoning weapon and adds acceleration to spinning).


Personality- Arros is bitterly sarcastic, with an admittedly brazen form of twisted honesty. His sense of humor is darkly drow. He loves riddles, being entertained and lively spirits (from the bottle). At other moments he has moments of being self-centered and apathetic.


Loyalties - Momentarily he does not know his loyalties but fate shall change that.


~Dragon Steed~


Name: Ameritheus (Theadon) for short


Specie : White Gold Dragon (Mecurial)


Gender : Male


Personality: Seeks Justice, Even tempered & level headed


Age: 817 yrs Mature


Breath Weapon: Sleep & scalding gas with explosive force,concussive. starts as a 5'x5' fireball.
 
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Thank you it seems i weighted my dragon a bit light in posting lol, I can definitely change that in Rp as I have not had time to formulate too much of a personality with him (school, the other rp & life in general) gets in the way. 
Your posts are most magnificent and detailed, you could easily learn T-1 fighting for rp.
 
Mayyybe :) ?? I would say since I've only been on Rp Nation for a week, it would be extremely ludicrous to try and shuffle through thousands of rps just to find the name Sylvan, the intended remark was for the work above lol.
 
It's actually quite easy, you go to a person's page and you look at their postings. And there you have it, stalking. xD


Well, Thank you for the compliment. A lot of people have a tendency to stalk.
 
(Here is my first character, another will join tomorrow.))


*Name: Rhiannon Delane


*Race: Wood Elf


*Age (Dragon Masters live as long as their dragons do): Several hundred years


*Gender: Female


*Appearance (Please be descriptive): Vallarion is a woman of great stature for a Wood Elf, and a female at that, reaching to the height of five foot four. Her skin is pale, despite being in the sun as long as the sun dial works daily. Her hair is wavy and rich in brown colour. Her cheekbones are sharp and set high in her face, giving her a more exotic look, her eyes are slightly narrow with reddish brown eyes that change colour at times. When she is angry they will look more red, when she is calm they will turn a rich brown. Her body has an hourglass figure to it, and her daily activity leaves her muscular. She doesn't really care about her appearance, however, and will just put her hair up and wear the most practical of armours.


Her armour is made of leather that has been dyed the colour of a black sheep wool. The armour creeps up to her neck, not showing her chest area, there are silver studs all over the chest, abdomen and legs, giving her added protection. It fits her in just the right way that it won't make noise when she moves, but also give her great flexibility movement.


*Personality: She is a sweet person to those she knows and loves, but when she is faced with an enemy, or a person of unknown intent her whole facade changes, turning her into a dark, even scary person. Her eyes turn cold, her face turns expressionless.


*Bio: Rhiannon used to be a slave to the Empire when she was just a young girl. Her father was killed by Empire soldiers whilst she and her mother were taken back to the city to become slaves. Rhiannon was too scared to fight, wanting to just get out of this alive, but her mother would have none of it. She fought and fought, trying her best to get away. It was all to no avail. When she turned back, when she escaped from her captors, for her daughter she was run through with a sword. Rhiannon can still recall that day with striking clarity despite the fact that it is over three hundred years old.


Rhiannon was a young girl of sixteen, a mature looking sixteen that men just adored. Her mother was even prettier than herself, with long, flowing silver hair, a vibrant green eye colour, pleasantly plump. Her mother had been the most beautiful creature on this green Earth to her.


Rhia watched as her mother stomped on the foot of a tall, muscular man and used her elbow to hit his gut. He crumpled into himself, groaning loudly. Her mother made a beeline for her, wanting to free her as well.


Rhiannon reached out for her mother, her long arms nearly touching her, then everything went in slow motion.


Her mother reached out for her hand as the guard holding Rhiannon yanked her back, making the mother stumble at the sudden movement of her target. The man that had been chasing her mother got a clear target as she stumbled, he finally drew his sword with the sharp, metallic sound of metal grinding on metal, then he drove the sword into her mother, running her straight through the gut. Her mother let out a strangled scream as blood began filling her lung and dripping out of her mouth.


She still tried to reach Rhiannon, but the wound proved to be too much and she fell to the ground, the sword still embedded in her back.


“Mother!” The blood-splattered girl screamed as she was taken away, leaving her mother in the middle of the cobblestoned streets of Ridlaine, the capital of the Empires land.


It took Rhiannon many years to finally escape her captors, and she only escaped when she found a Dragon's egg in a storage room. It had been fiery red and red hot to the touch. The second she touched it she was burned very badly, but her touch seemed to make the egg react. Within minutes a small, red dragon was born from the egg. A bond seemed to have formed between her and she, filling her with a sense of power. She had heard of Dragons and their beauty. She quickly escaped the castle with her Dragon following close behind her.


She quickly began forming an organization, wanting to fight against the Empire, soon, others with dragons followed after her, joining with her. She was quickly crowned the Queen of the Dragon Masters.


*Weapons: She carries a long sword with an intricately carved ebony black hilt. The blade itself is serrated and curved, making it very deadly. She also carries two daggers that is in much the same style.


*Dragon Master or Empire: Queen of the Dragon Masters.


~~


Dragon Sheet:


*Name: Kivarria


*Age (Dragons who are tamed live as long as their master.): 232


*Gender: Female


*Personality: She is grouchy and bad tempered at the best of times.


*Appearance):
Dragons_Lair_by_Ironshod.jpg
 
*Name: King Kalais Ishiran, The Darkheart



*Race: Human



*Age (Dragon Masters live as long as their dragons do): 25 years old



*Gender: Male



*Appearance (Please be descriptive): Long dark hair. Pale skin. Mismatching eyes, one red and one blue. He has a long scar across the blue eye. He is 6 feet 8 inches tall. He wears a black kingly robe with leather shoulder guards. He also has a dark tattered cloak but only wears it when he leaves his castle.



*Personality: Dark humor. Merciless. He likes to think that everyone is his puppet to control.



*Bio: Since he was a young child, Kalais has been alone. It wasn't like he was rejected by society, he rejected them. He enjoyed being by himself. There was an evil that dwelled in him that no one could tame. He showed his true personality when he murdered his older sister. The Empire King at that time, Kalais's father, was horrified of his son. Kalais went to his father and stared at him with eyes full of malice, evil, darkness. A nightmare. The king became so frightened he did nothing to his son for murdering his sister and only sent him away from him. As far as he could. Kalais lived alone by himself, amusing himself by making friends his age then tearing out their hearts. When he came of age, he traveled into dragon territory. A large black dragon attacked him. Kalais annihilated him with a sharp stick. He ripped the heart out of the dragon and kept with him. He also tore out a diamond tooth and forged a spear with it. He returned to his father's castle and stood in front of the king who cringed in fear. Kalais grabbed the king by the neck and crushed his throat. He claimed the throne without any objection and has ruled ever since. With fear.



*Weapons: Long iron spear, forged by himself. It has a diamond dragon tooth tip.



*Dragon Master or Empire: Empire



*Other: This is his armor ->

http://www.theanimegallery.com/data/thumbs/790px/0093/tAG_93771.jpghttp://www.theanimegallery.com/data/thumbs/790px/0093/tAG_93771.jpg

http://www.theanimegallery.com/data/thumbs/790px/0093/tAG_93771.jpg
 
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*repost*


*Name: Dreth


*Race: Drow


*Age (Dragon Masters live as long as their dragons do): 29


*Gender: Male


*Appearance (Please be descriptive): He's toned to the point of disbelief. He has virtually no fat on his body. He has a multitude of deep white and red holes on his body from nicks and arrow piercings that he has recieved over the course of his militaristic life. His eyes are a deep Icy blue. He has long hair that falls to the center of his back. He stands at 6'.


*Personality: Mistrusting. Bitter. Harsh. Cold. Calculating.


*Bio: Dreth has lead a fairly normal life. When he was 12, he was put in charge of an assult on a small village where he orchestrated a massive whipe out of an elven people (given that there were few soldiers in the area). Then, he grew to hate his parents (as most male Drow soldiers do) and left home to find his own purpose, pluging himself into a barrage of bloody raids and broken companionships. When he became old enough, he joined the empire, in an attempt to do what he knows best. War. When he quickly rose as a war hero and a valuable asset, he was gifted with a high rank and a slave dragon. After bonding with the dragon, he felt empathy for the first time and wanted nothing more than to protect his dragon, as though the dragon were a brother or a son. Fleeing from the Empire, he escaped into the country, darting from city to city, keeping to the outskirts. Usually when he encounters a village, he destroys it single handedly, not only for practice but for neccissary recources such as food and water. Over time, his dragon has grown very large as well as he has grown strong. If need be, he could concievably destroy entire cities, though he chooses not to for fear of being tracked and attacked. Over the years, his scars have accumulated and smoldered into his being, making him a bitter and rage filled alchoholic who knows how to kill and would like nothing more than to be alone with his precious companion who he named Methelem.


*Weapons: His weapons of choice are his vast skills in mid-range weaponry but he is well versed in forms of dual short sword combat as well as use of two handed weaponry. If all else fails, he has a large well of magical ability though he knows not how to use it well.


*Dragon Master or Empire: Unafiliated, though he used to be a part of the empire and as such, acquired a dragon slave.
 
Dragon Sheet:


*Name: Methelem


*Age (Dragons who are tamed live as long as their master.): 5


*Gender: Male


*Personality: Mistrustful. Recluse. Quiet. Cold. Calculating. Much like his master for he is the only life he has known deeply and truly loved.


*Appearance): 42' long (from head to tail.), 15' wide. He's all dark grey/black, his wings are the same and are NOT transparent. He has snow white eyes and a set of long fangs for teeth.
 
Color shimmers within the smoky depths of this perfect crystalline sphere. Both the scintillating shade and emanations of an indefinable power suggest the breathing of a drowsing dragon. Each of these fabled orbs contains the essence and personality of an ancient dragon of a different variety.


Certain knowledge exists in a state beyond time, distance, and the minds that struggle to possess it. The Orbs of Dragonkind number among such timeless mysteries, spoken of through the ages and across empires and planes as things of wonder and devastation, physical legends to be pursued or destroyed for the world-shaking power they possess.


Initially the orbs exist out side their user granting them an assortment of abilities as long as the orb remains within their possession, the most notable of which is an increase of both strength and speed. Dragon-sight is also one of such abilities, it grants the user with farsight, darkvision and other forms depending on the residential dragon.


Upon learning the words which are inscribed lightly upon the orbs surface in an ancient text the orb/spirit will then merge with that of its holder, though the orb is a conscious entity it holds little or no control over it's human vessel unless that vessel recites the incantation upon it's surface granting the human with a new form and even more abilities for a short period of time, but this is not without cost, for the human must relinquish all control to the will of the dragon. 
This is basically a rough-draft idea, if you like I'm willing to post the rest of what I have.
 
Name- Ferrasel (Ferrah) Barudur


age- 23


description- You are met with stunning azure eyes of an icy cerulean blue; Her alluring optics contrast with her golden Caribbean tan, matched with sultry framed tresses of raven dark locks.


At first glance Ferrah's features look as timeless as a youthful Mediterranean gypsy, her stature is athletically proportioned with a stocky voluptuous build. She stands un-imposingly, average at 5'8, but just slightly above average for a female. She wears a lace top light beige frock with a form fitting royal burgundy bodice over it.


Her battle-jacket resembles a dark forest green, split-tail duster that is sleeveless and stops just below her calves. The jacket is edged and embroidered with the ornate Celtic braid in golden browns & royal reds. Her feet covered from the top with thronged battle sandals. Adorning the female's neck is a herring-boned necklace with an unusual silver globe that was said to be her mothers. Farrah's mother is a mystery as her father spoke vary little around Ferrah, although what he did tell was always in high regard. He would attest t that Ferrah looked a lot like her mother and had her mannerisms). Ferrah wears earrings and bracelets of burnish bronze and matching the Celtic designs, just like the design on her jacket.


personality- Ferrah is carefree, thoughtful and curious with the child like quality of the Fae and spirit of the muses. She loves nature, is inquisitive, kind and caring..That is until it is time to not be. Like a fire cracker with a lit fuse, Ferrah can be outspoken, rough and tumble with a side of cunning! Her father was a fifth generation conscripted soldier/hunter for the Empire. He was recognized for his battle savvy tactics that earned him the title man-at-arms.


Bio- As a young child Ferrah's heart allowed her to see past the outward scars of her father's burn't features. His unfortunate encounter occurred in a rough altercation with a mature fire-drake in what would come to be known as the battle of Melpike's Burrow.


In a deep ravine a regiment of one hundred-fifty of the kingdoms hunters went to flush out a young female dragon mother. The mother lead the guards away from her fledglings, once she realized she was about to be cornered; the dragon chose a crag inside of a pass. This corridor forced the troops to have to fight in a confined space with no more then three soldiers at a time. Ferrah's father suffered in the raid, not just physically but psychologically as he witnessed two childhood friends roasted alive at the dangerous incursion.


So when his only daughter showed interest in Dragon's by creating journals sketches and anatomical physiology of the beasts, her father inflicted a great amount of guilt on the poor child, with extreme prejudice. Anything dealing with dragons, Ferrah learned to hide her work including drawings, short stories and poems, that is until her father was called back to hunt for the Empire.


Again Helivus Barudur (Ferrah's father) was commanded to track and hunt down the leader of a renegade rampage of assailing dragons.


In truth the Dragon Amerytheus (Theodon) was the leader of an endangered breed. In the golden era of the ancient of days, the Golden/whites (Mecurial) dragons where able to handle diplomacy in both the language of men and the great Fire-Wyrm. Then the madness began and Theodon left to lead his herd on a massive exodus. 
With the Empires orders it was fate that brought Helivus & Theodon to face off on the field of battle. Now with the respect of the Empire behind Helivus for his bravery in battle, he now commanded eight battalions as well as a line of catapults, ballistas, battle wagons and an ariel armada of enslaved dragons. it was a slaughter that dwindled the mecurials down to a few in numbers, cutting them off and costing Theodon his mate and kin. In turn Theodon finished what the first dragon did not, he took the life of Helivus. So it was with a heavy heart that Ferrah saw the procession of soldiers bearing the funeral cart of her father, in which she hated dragons and pledged her alligience to the kingdom at the tender age of twelve.


Not long after her father's death, Ferrah began having dreams of a radiant angelic being that would tell Ferrah, "The circle must be completed" the dream kept returning to her for the next three years. so it came to pass one late evening in the orphanage that Ferrah stayed she saw a procession of soldier's torches from the empire on a late evening hunt. Wanting to feel justice for her father's death, she followed the procession hoping to gain satisfaction.


What she witnessed brutalized her, and after the slaughter, in which the men left, she heard the still small voice of a fledgling. That is when she had realized the men had orphaned a dragon and that dragon was in no way any different then her. So she adopted the fledgling.


Weapons- Father's military grade Flamberge (flame bladed long sword) and her father's recurved bow.


~Dragon~


Name - Theta


specie is - Topaz


Age - 8 yrs old
 
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