Dragon Masters

[QUOTE="Silent Howling]Hey Sylvan, when will the roleplay be made?

[/QUOTE]
I spoke with Sylvan earlier this evening and she is indisposed with a personal matter at the moment, but she has not forgotten the roleplay and will keep us informed as soon as things are ready.
 
Name: Verendim Corfolx


Race: Drow


Age: 248 (around 38 in human years)


Gender: Male


Appearance: Silky white hair against ebony black skin, brought out even more so by two dark purple, yet astonishingly piercing, eyes. His face seems to sprout around his nose, oddly hooked, and spreads across the rest of his face smoothly and elegantly. His entire body is quite elegant, slim and tall; clearly revealing him to be of an elven race. He towers over every human and many of his brethren, nearly topping off 7'2. He wears a gray tunic that reaches down to his knees, adorned in small silver ornaments and trimmings. Over this comes a thick layer of chain mail, finished with the twisted and cruel designs of dark elf armor.


Personality: What you'd expect from a Drow; sadistic and dark. Kind emotion is spared for a choice few of his kind, and hate is shown to everyone else. However, even those that he would hold close he refuses to let stand in the way of his lust for power. To rise on high above the ranks of his kind, and any living creature who dare oppose him, is his burning dream, a dream that he allows to destroy anything that prevents it from reaching its goal.


Bio: Born to the lord of his clan; a clan of Drow that lived deep beneath the forests of the Empire. A warrior mage, some might call him, as he specialized in dark magic and melee combat. To prove his claim to the throne when his father died, and to demonstrate his strength, he brutally murdered his father in front of his clan. It resulted in chaos, and two political sides were formed within the clan. One was for Verendim, and his claim to the throne. The other was for the opposite path, and they wished to enthrone the king's cousin, who didn't brutally murder his father in public. For years the rivalry ran on, resulting in assassinations, plundering, and death everywhere. Slowly the clan began to destroy itself, and everyday was practically spent in bloodshed. But, eventually, the remainder of Verendim's followers left him for what they saw now to be the truth, and joined the other side. Soon the dark elf had no one left to fight for him, and he left his home as swiftly as possible, like a hunted animal in fear of his life. He soon came to the Empire, and enlisted himself as an expert assassin and dragon hunter under the King's command.


Weapons: Two poisoned knives, a short sword, and a black staff infused with dark elven magic.


Dragon Master or Empire: Empire
 
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*Name: Elil Gwosseth


*Race: Elf


*Age (Dragon Masters live as long as their dragons do): 50


*Gender: Female


*Appearance (Please be descriptive): Slim and slight, the epitome of an elf in appearance there was Elil. Her features are sharp and angular. The word for her features; bird-like. Blue eyes were bright and it didn't take a hard look to see the wildness to them. The ebony haired woman's curves were long and fluid, each curve slowly flowing into the next dip the way a highly trained dancer's body does. She usually wore clothing that accentuated her flowing appearance skirts made of light, airy usually almost transparent silks. What made her the most deadly was how elegant her dress usually was and the way her movements would usually look more like an intricate, intimate dance than an attack. The most common form of garb she wore was a skirt made of many single silk strips giving her the ability to move as freely and fluidly as she pleased while providing a sort of distraction with the way it moved. If her right thigh managed to peek out from between the fabrics one might notice a design in her deep olive skin. Spirals, circles, crept in a light pattern up her leg from her ankle all the way to somewhere under the skirts though one might guess that the pattern simply continued across her back to her left arm. This decorative design was all in a slightly lighter skin tone as if she'd been tan everywhere but where the design lay, or perhaps she had even been scarred though they were not raised at all.


*Personality: While her comments are usually blunt and uncensored, she somehow manages to get away with them perhaps due to the way she so casually states them giving them a certain charisma that most others would lack. Being so practiced in dance has some effect on her personality giving her a aloof albeit mildly flirty feeling to just about every


*Bio: Elil and her family had really had very little to do with the 'big picture' of things. In fact, the whole reason she fell into it was pure happenstance. Her parents were fairly unpolitical which lead their daughter to be very similar, but as she grew her interests took off on a different path than her parents who preferred the comfort of living in ignorance to the brutal war raging outside. Yes, there would always be those that decided to seclude themselves from the death and debauchery outside. Where there were brave warriors, there were also pathetic cowards.... those like Elil's parents.


Her parents had encouraged her to do things that made her happy, but to stay out of town...


This naturally made her curious, so every time she had a chance she would sneak away to the town that was just a short distance from home. In the town she fell in love with some of the entertainers on the street... dancers to be specific. The way they moved was hypnotizing and that was the moment she decided she would one day be just as skilled as they.


One of the dancers she learned from most was heavily active in the war, this woman was who Elil looked up to most. This is who started Elil's interest and activity in the movement against the Empire.


At some point in her early adulthood Elil realized this, when and why would likely remain unknown to even those closest to her, but what they would know would be that this lithe dancer of an elf hated her parents. Elil's approximation of her parents was this: If it worked to their benefit, they'd sell her out to anyone, even the Empire that Elil had begun to despise. Her exact alliance was unknown, but it was surely against The Empire.


*Weapons: What makes Elil dangerous in battle is the distraction her movements provide her, and the trained tactics of what would seem to be a dance rather than combat though she did specialize in dual short swords when it comes to brandishing a weapon.


*Dragon Master or Empire: Dragon Master
 
  • Genshin Anguis



*Dragon Master or Empire: Dragon Master slightly aligned with the empire


~~


Dragon Sheet:


  • Wrath












 

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I'm really sorry that it has taken so long, life has been happening and I have been sick, so I couldn't think of a beginning post, I shall begin soon.
 
Name: Bioran Valerius


Race: Human


Age: 25


Gender: Male


Appearance:


Bioran stands at a not so awe inspiring height of 5'10." He possesses tan skin tone earned by spending majority of his life out working in the fields under the severe heat of the sun. Bioran has short head of jet black hair, he keeps it this way to conform to his idea of functionality, you can't kill what you can't see and longer hair sometimes gets in your eyes. He weighs in at 160lbs., normal for a man his size, he posses a toned body from the effort he had put in his work in the fields, not to mention an almost daily training regimen. Dark brown eyes peer back at those who would wish to stare at him.


Bio/Personality/Short Back-story(Note: short is a very subjective term.):


Bioran was born to the less than minor house Valerius in the empire, a line of honorable warriors in times past but recent generations have seen themselves employed in mercenary work or some even resorted to banditry. He grew up under strict parents, which forced him to be the best they thought he could be, he could take solace in the fact that they did the same with his elder sister and brother.


Every morning since he could hold a sword his father had him how to properly use the weapon in tandem with shield, they had practiced with wooden swords and wooden boards. His father had always scolded him whenever he acted rashly or impulsively, emphasizing the need for discipline in all things. His father was shaping him to be a soldier, that sometimes self control was necessary to preserve the lives of his comrades in whatever fight they may take part in. It was ingrained in his psyche that he should impose self control, it wasn't a perfect way to solve a problem, but the additional information or observation time brought on by controlling himself was worth more than a string of impulsive actions relying on sheer luck.


In coping with the stress and pressure his parents put on him he had begun sharing his ideas with his siblings. Every night after the family had eaten their supper, he would simply voice out random ideas in the room which he shared with his two siblings which usually led to their own private debates. His sister would always speak from experience whereas his brother followed a certain logical pattern in answering Bioran's various questions posed to his siblings. Through these small interactions he had developed his thirst for knowledge. It was also through these interactions that he had begun forming his own opinion in matters, opting a mix of both his sister's and brother's often conflicting ideas and beliefs.


Gradually, their parents had exposed them to outside world as they grew up. It was one thing to be spoonfed information about the outside and another to completely experience it first hand. Letting the experience shape them and their opinion, allowing them to become unique individuals. Bioran himself had learned the value of tolerance in their family's outside world dealings, the discipline carved into his very soul had allowed him to learn that trait and also the trait of patience. Bioran was nothing if not patient, he would simply wait for openings both on the battlefield against the occasional bandit and in the alehouse arguing philosophy with drunks.


Thankfully enough, their parents may have been strict but smart enough to loosen their hold over their children as they grew older. Choice was another ideal that circulated in the family, they were given choices on how to go about their lives. It was always an unspoken fact that everyone in their family would grow up and develop differently across all generations, forcing one to be what he does not desire to be would only lead to resentment and an unfulfilled life. That was another trait he decided to take with him, Choice, he did savor having to force ideals beliefs on others and would not stand for having ideals forced on him as well. He would prefer going at his own pace and examine the ideals or thoughts given to him.


Bioran followed his sister and brother into the imperial army. He had originally found it to be a very constricting life much like his childhood at home, but forged onward. In time, he had already grown into the life of a soldier and even become close with his squad. His squad was usually sent to quell internal disputes or conflicts like bandit raids and such. He had even started instructing other members of the squad in the ways of the "sword and board," teaching his second family how to fight like his first family thereby making them a very unorthodox fighting unit against opponents with two feet. It was around this time that one of his squadmates had asked him about his opinion on dragons and their riders. Bioran simply shrugged and smiled.


"All I hear is that they are merciless and thoughtless creatures. I suppose that is true on a battlefield, but how about in a different setting and scenario? I think that they are capable of intelligence, I think that some of them want a peaceful resolution to the conflict but due to the inherent bullheadedness of the higher ups of BOTH sides of the conflict, a negotiation or diplomatic resolution might not see the light of day for a while." A passing captain had heard his statement and asked Bioran to retract it, he held his ground and was thrown into the dungeons under grounds of insubordination. He did not stay long because an influential friend of his, whom he had saved on several occasions and was part of his squad, had used his family's name and power to have the sentence reduced significantly. How powerful? Bioran was supposed to stay for 1 year, they brought it down to 2 days.


It has been a few days after his release from imprisonment, he was now returning to his squad and to active duty in the army. Due to his prior actions, his promotion never came. The honor was instead passed on to another member of the squad. They had been looking for a replacement for their previous sergeant who had been reassigned temporarily and was slain in battle. Although Bioran was not the leader of his squad, everyone still followed his advice or took it into consideration.


Weapons: Sword and Shield with Crossbow.


Dragon Master or Empire: EMPIRE
 
Ermahgerd.


Sol. You have joined this RP with meh.


This will be the greatest RP ever.


Ironically, my character is the king of the good faction. Oh well. I suppose even the king of villains must step outside of his comfort zone every once in a while. I hope this won't be too much of a royal pain (hehehehehe)
 
*Name: Va'len Drenzen.


*Race: Tiefling


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


*Gender: Male


*Appearance (Please be descriptive):

Tiefling_by_cimoart.jpg
Imagine his face just a tiny bit more handsome and not as scary and you have yourself my boyfrien.
*Personality: You could most likely see his personality just by looking at his picture, but for a more in depth description:


He is cold and callous. He would rather choose rape and slay the Maiden in distress than save her. His Demon blood is very strong in his veins, and he will stop at nothing to cause great havoc in the world.


*Bio: Va'len has a long and sordid history stretching as far back as when he was just six years old.


Child:


Va'len was doomed to a life of evil and sordidness. His conception was the product of rape. His mother had been just a small, Drow girl, barely old enough to carry a child, his father was a large, very vicious man. He had kept his mother tied up for nearly a week, doing whatever he wanted with her and then tossed her aside like trash.


His mother had known immediately that she was pregnant with his spawn. She had a very fleeting thought of cutting it out of her womb, not caring if she lived or died, but the baby within her womb began working its venom within her, creating a drug that made it seem like she loved the Demon spawn. She carried him in her womb for ten months, in horrible pain all the way. As the baby grew, it developed horns, claws, and a large tail. Finally. After all that nurturing, when the Va'len decided he was full term, instead of coming out the normal way, he used his horns and claws to tear and rend her flesh, digging his way out of her stomach. She was awake and alive all the way through the birthing process, and she was alive long enough to see the father appear in a cloud of black smoke and grab the giggling child.


The mother died as the father used Va'len's own mother to feed him, using her flesh to feed him. After the baby was satisfied the father took him back to the planar land that he had come from.


Adolescent:


Va'len was raised in a hell dimension. Being raised in a hell dimension, as you can probably guess, is very dangerous. When his father deemed his able to defend himself he began not protecting his son whenever something dangerous would come for them. Va'len had to constantly be on his toes, never losing concentration for a moment. To lose concentration would be his death. It wasn't until he was fifteen that he made his first kill. His father had always stepped in at some point and slayed the offending beast.


His first kill was actually another one of their kind, and a female at that. A Tiefling of great power and skill, brought down by a child. He still keeps one of her ebony black horns with him at all times. He always says that it was going to save his life one day.


Adult:


When Va'len turned the age of thirty he finally decided that he no longer needed his father. As his father slept he had snuck into his room and used the blade his father had given him on his twelfth birthday to slit his throat. But in his father's death throes his father had managed to smash his tail blade into Va'lan's face, leaving him with a long white scar running from the top of his forward, across his eye, and down his cheek. A constant reminder to what he had done.


And he loved it.


He made his way to the surface world, determined to make his living there, instead of the dry, ugly lands of the hells.


The rest of the story has yet to be told.


*Weapons: Va'len carries an assortment of poisons, daggers and other assorted things.


*Dragon Master or Empire: Neutral at the moment.


He has not obtained a Dragon, yet.
 
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