Nation Building Hysrai Students and Aldren History

[Chaotic Poem]

❂ The History & Lore of Aldren: The Land of Riders ❂​

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⤖ The Age of Wild Dragons ⤖​

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Long before Aldren became a land of order and Riders, it was a realm ruled by wild dragons. They soared over vast mountains, hunted freely across the skies, and made their nests deep in uncharted lands.

The early peoples of Aldren—elves, druids, waterfolk, and men—both feared and revered them. Some saw dragons as gods, others as monsters to be slain. Wars were fought against them, but no blade nor spell could match the raw power of a dragon’s fire.

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⤖ The Pact of the Riders ⤖​

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As chaos threatened to consume Aldren, a great leader arose—King Vaelor Drakos, the First Dragon King. He was the first to forge a bond with a dragon, not through force, but through magic and understanding.

With his great dragon, Aurithar the Storm-Born, he united the scattered kingdoms, bringing together warriors, mages, and scholars to form the Order of the Dragon Riders.

It was this Order that cast the Great Encompassing Spell, an ancient ritual so powerful that it reshaped Aldren forever. From that moment forward, every dragon egg laid across the land would vanish upon birth, safely transported to the Dragon Hatchery Vault—where only those deemed worthy could bond with a dragon.

With this act, the era of wild dragons ended, and the Age of the Riders began.

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⤖ The Capital & The Rule of Kings ⤖​

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Now, Aldren is ruled from the mighty capital city of Metopal, a sprawling metropolis built along a vast bay. Home to the Dragon Throne, it is the center of trade, politics, and military might.

The current king, King Edric Vaelor Drakos IV, is a direct descendant of the First Dragon King, though his rule is far more contested. Some see him as a just ruler, striving to keep Aldren united, while others whisper that he is weak, too hesitant to act against the growing unrest in the outer villages.

The Dragon Council, a powerful group of elder Riders and scholars, advises the king but also holds considerable sway over political decisions. Some believe they manipulate the throne for their own gain, ensuring that the Riders remain the ultimate power in Aldren.

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⤖ The Struggles of the Outlands ⤖​

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While the great cities thrive, the outskirts of Aldren tell a different story. Many villages are lawless, overrun by bandits and warlords, where Riders rarely intervene. Only port cities and walled towns stand a chance at receiving aid from the capital, as they hold economic or strategic value.

For the rest, survival is left in their own hands.

There are whispers of rebellion—of villagers and outcasts who believe the dragons should be free once more, that the spell should be broken so the creatures may return to the wild. Some claim that a secret faction, known only as The Broken Wing, is working to undo the Riders' control over dragonkind.

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⤖ Hysrai: The Riders’ Last Trial ⤖​

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The mighty fortress of Hysrai is where all hopeful Riders must go after bonding with their dragon. Hidden deep within an ancient, untouched forest, the castle is isolated, protected, and only reachable by air or through the treacherous desert beyond.

It is here that young Riders are trained in combat, survival, and the art of dragon riding. Only those who prove themselves worthy may return to the world as fully recognized Dragon Riders of Aldren.

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⤖ The Eternal Bond ⤖​

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The moment a dragon hatches for its Rider, a powerful and unbreakable bond is formed—one that goes beyond mere companionship. It is a connection of mind, soul, and spirit, forged through ancient magic that no scholar has ever been able to fully understand.

From that first breath, the Rider and dragon are mentally linked, their thoughts woven together like threads in a tapestry. They can speak to each other through thought, a silent conversation no one else can hear. More than that, they can feel each other’s emotions—joy, anger, fear, pain. When one suffers, the other does too. When one rejoices, the other shares in it.

This bond is for life—there is no severing it, no escaping it. To lose a dragon is to lose a piece of one’s own soul, a wound that never fully heals.

While dragons possess the ability to speak telepathically to others, they rarely do so, preferring to keep their thoughts reserved for their chosen Rider. It is a bond sacred and rare, one that shapes both dragon and Rider for eternity.

Some call it a gift. Others call it a curse. But to those who have experienced it, there is no greater connection in the world.

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⤖ The Future of Aldren ⤖​

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With unrest growing, the capital caught in political tension, and whispers of rebellion brewing in the outlands, Aldren stands at the edge of change.

Will the Riders remain the ultimate power?
Will the king hold his throne?
Or will the dragons, bound by centuries of magic, one day be freed once more?

Only time will tell.​

 

[Chaotic Poem]

Valencia - Hometown of Tellina, formerly a small elven village known for forest hunting. Currently run by a group of bandits led by a warlord named Marq. The mountains that border Valencia are too steep at this section to traverse.

Gild Mountains - These mountains are home to many creatures, some dangerous, others not. They are also inhabited by numerous nomads.

Morkarp - A larger village bordering a small forest and near Lake Jils, which provides ample fishing. It has extensive farmland and is supported by the Capital. Soldiers are stationed here.

Kilsnip - A small hunting village surrounded mostly by forest. It also engages in some farming.

Drakain - A small village with a small port. Despite its cramped size, it is a very important city with stationed soldiers.

Jarlnel - The center of trade, located outside the Forest of Forst. Known for its unique meats from animals of the forest. It has a strong military presence and its own training barracks.

Forest of Forst - A dense forest with enormous trees and unique wildlife. The deepest parts are rarely populated.

Dunbar - A small passing village filled with inns for travelers crossing between Jarlnel and Colas. Soldiers are stationed here to guard the bridge.

Merdel and Seelac - Two small farming villages that send their goods to Colas. Merdel is also a stop for travelers between Jarlnel and Colas.

Colas - A large port city that thrives on farming, hunting, and trade from Merdel and Seelac. It has a significant military presence and a navy.

Illea - A city on the river, known for fishing and farming. Small riverboats navigate the waters and can pass under bridges.

Desert of Hyldari - A vast desert with no water, making it nearly impassable. The northern strip is the only traversable path and is heavily guarded and patrolled by military and naval forces.

Metopal - The Capital and the largest city. It houses the grandest castle, supported by farming, fishing, and trade from other cities. It serves as the stronghold of the realm, home to the Dragon Hatchery Vault, the King, and the main base for both the military and navy.

Hysrai - A school for dragon riders, surrounded by dense forest and high sea cliffs, making it difficult for unwelcome visitors to enter.

 

[Chaotic Poem]

Original search post:

In the land of Aldren, Dragon Riders reign supreme, their destinies shaped by the ancient magic that binds them to their dragons. To be chosen by this sacred force is an honor beyond measure, a rare and wondrous gift. For most, the opportunity comes but once in a lifetime—at the age of eighteen, they are granted permission to journey to the grand Capital of Metopal, where the dragon eggs rest in waiting. Yet, not all make the pilgrimage; some are lost to fate, circumstance, or misfortune. Others—whether by wealth, influence, or sheer luck—are granted multiple chances, each new dragon egg offering the possibility of a bond that will shape the course of history.

Within the sacred chamber of the egg room, hopefuls are led through endless rows of shimmering dragon eggs, each holding the promise of an unbreakable bond. With gentle fingertips, they brush against the smooth shells, waiting for fate to decide. If chosen, an invisible force halts their hand, magic anchoring them to the egg—then, in an instant, consciousness slips away.

What unfolds in that mysterious trance is known only to those who have lived it. Each experience is unique, shaping the path of the Rider to come. Some soar through boundless skies, tasting the exhilaration of flight before ever mounting a dragon. Others receive haunting premonitions—visions of perilous quests and looming destinies. No matter the experience, all who are chosen are forever changed.

And when they awaken, they do so to the sight of their dragon hatching, the beginning of a bond that will last a lifetime.

Once chosen, the newly bonded Rider and dragon are whisked away without delay, journeying beyond the vast desert and deep into a secluded forest where the legendary Dragon Rider Academy awaits. Hidden from the world, this is where they will train, grow, and uncover the true extent of their bond. It is here that the real story begins—where destinies are forged in fire and flight. Whether carefully planned or left to unfold in the thrill of discovery, adventure awaits at every turn.

Dragon eggs vary in size, their dimensions dictated by the mother's ever-growing form. Since dragons never truly stop growing, some eggs can be massive, producing hatchlings large enough to take to the skies within moments of birth—though still very much infants. Others require time, maturing over the course of a year before spreading their wings. But there is balance in nature, and while dragons may grow endlessly, an average adult size exists, marking the point where their rapid growth slows to a steadier pace.

Magic, mystery, and the promise of the skies—this is the world of the Dragon Riders.

 

[Chaotic Poem]

The Rise of a Rider: Tellina Viola’s Journey​

The land of Aldren has long been ruled by the will of dragons and their Riders, an ancient order bound by destiny and magic. To be chosen by a dragon is an honor beyond measure, a bond that shapes lives and determines fates. But for Tellina Viola, the path to becoming a Dragon Rider was anything but ordinary.

A Shattered Home​

Born in Valencia, Tellina was raised in a warm, loving home with her parents and younger sister. The city thrived in its own corner of Aldren, known for its rich culture, artistry, and strong community. But when Tellina was just eight years old, everything changed. Bandits swept through Valencia in a storm of fire and steel, seizing control and reducing her once-peaceful home to a place of lawlessness and fear. Her family was torn apart in the chaos—her survival was a stroke of fate.

Alone, frightened, and desperate, Tellina was smuggled to the Capital of Metopal, where the customs and towering structures were entirely foreign to her. As an outsider, she was given little choice in her fate and was placed into servitude, working as a maid within the grand halls of the city. For years, she lived in the shadows, adapting to a world that neither welcomed nor understood her. But she never let them see her fear.

A Destiny Unfolds​

For ten years, Tellina’s life remained one of silent endurance—until the day she was sent to the Dragon Hatchery on her 18th birthday. It was here that fate intervened. As she carefully brushed the shell of a dragon egg, an unseen force stopped her hand. A powerful magic surged through her, and in an instant, everything changed. The egg cracked beneath her fingers, and from within emerged Ke'oke'o, a dragon as white as fresh-fallen snow, his piercing blue-grey eyes locking onto hers. She had not come to the Hatchery seeking a dragon, yet he had chosen her.

From that moment on, Tellina was no longer a forgotten maid—she was a Dragon Rider, destined to bond, train, and one day fight for Aldren with other Riders.

Forging a New Path​

Now at nineteen, Tellina lives and trains at Hysrai, the prestigious school for Dragon Riders. Though well-liked for her diplomacy and skill with words, she keeps her distance from most, struggling to form deep friendships. Some mistake her quiet nature for arrogance, but in truth, she fears attachment—fears losing more people she cares about.

With Ke'oke'o by her side, Tellina strives toward her ultimate goal: to become a full Dragon Rider and one day return to Valencia, not as a victim, but as someone strong enough to reclaim what was taken from her.

But the road ahead is uncertain. The bond between Rider and dragon is powerful, yet fragile. The city still whispers of war, of growing tensions among the Riders, of forces beyond their control. Tellina knows only one thing for sure—she will never be powerless again.

Tellina possesses the powers of seer and healing magic from becoming a dragon rider.

Clothing:​

Tunic & Layered Armor: A high-collared, dark-colored tunic (likely deep blue, charcoal, or dark green) to contrast her white hair. Over it, she may wear light leather armor reinforced with dragon-scale plating for protection. Elven craftsmanship makes it sleek, flexible, and durable.

Cloak: A deep navy or forest-green cloak, fastened with a silver clasp bearing the insignia of Valencia. It provides warmth and anonymity, especially when traveling.

Fitted Pants & Tall Boots: Sturdy, dark leather pants allow for easy movement. Knee-high, reinforced riding boots protect her legs while mounted on Ke’oke’o.

Gloves & Arm Guards: Fingerless leather gloves for grip and protection, paired with bracer-like arm guards that shield against dragon fire and blade strikes.

Weapons:​

Hidden Dagger: Tellina always carries a dagger, likely hidden in her boot or sleeve. A relic from her past, small but deadly.

Compact Bow & Arrows: A short recurve bow for precision—light enough to use while riding but powerful enough for quick strikes. She carries a small quiver strapped diagonally across her back.

No Heavy Weapons: She likely avoids heavy swords or axes—she’s fast and tactical, not a brute fighter.

 

[Chaotic Poem]

Marcus & Sanguis: The Battle-Hardened Mentors of Hysrai​

At Hysrai, the legendary school for Dragon Riders, few teachers command the same level of respect—and quiet fear—as Marcus. A towering man with jet-black hair and a presence that looms like a storm, he is a warrior first, an instructor second. His lessons in combat and survival are harsh, forged from experience, and leave no room for weakness. To his students, he is strict, distant, and unyielding. To those who know better, he is a man bound by duty, not desire.

Marcus does not teach out of passion—he teaches out of necessity.

Once, he was a different man, shaped by battles long past and scars unseen. Those who whisper about his past speak of loss, betrayal, and a war that left him with nothing but his dragon. Whatever truth lingers in those rumors, Marcus does not confirm nor deny them. His only constant is Sanguis, a towering red dragon whose sharp wit and boundless energy contrast his rider’s hardened demeanor.

Unlike his Rider, Sanguis embraces his role as a teacher, guiding young dragons through the trials of battle, endurance, and survival. While Marcus trains the Riders, Sanguis trains their dragons—pushing them to their limits with the same unwavering determination. His lessons are as fierce as the flames he breathes, yet there is no cruelty in his teaching—only wisdom, patience, and the belief that every dragon must learn to protect their Rider at all costs.

Despite his infectious energy and natural charisma, Sanguis is no fool to the past. He carries the same wounds as Marcus, the same painful memories, but he wears them differently. Where Marcus has buried his emotions beneath a layer of steel, Sanguis remains compassionate, understanding, and unfaltering. He speaks little of the battles they have survived, yet his unwavering loyalty to Marcus speaks volumes. He is both his Rider’s tether to the present and the last remnant of a history neither of them can escape.

Unlike the other dragons, Sanguis refuses the stables of Hysrai, just as Marcus refuses the castle halls. They live together in a secluded hut on the outskirts of the school, where the forest is thick, the air is quiet, and the weight of the past does not press so heavily on their shoulders.

To the students, Marcus is a force to be reckoned with, and Sanguis is the fire that tempers them. To each other, they are survivors, brothers-in-arms, and the last pieces of a story left unfinished. To himself, he is simply a man doing what must be done.

 

[Shadow Dancer]

Tristan

Early LifeTristan, a half elf, was born in the bustling port city of Colas. His father was a human locksmith that almost could claim to have made half the locks in the city while his mother was a elf thief that almost could claim to have p...

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Temporary until I get out of work and on my PC








Early Life





Tristan, a half elf, was born in the bustling port city of Colas. His father was a human locksmith that almost could claim to have made half the locks in the city while his mother was a elf thief that almost could claim to have picked half the locks in the city.

All in all Tristan’s life was a common one discounting his mothers insistence on teaching him how to survive in the streets. Making for a set of lessons that included lockpicking, sneaking, street brawling, knife fighting, climbing and even pickpocketing. His fathers lessons were of the more common variety. Math, reading, basic sword fighting, basics of smithing and locksmithing.

From the moment he could read Tristan’s freetime would be spent running to the local bookstore with whatever money he earned to buy any books on dragons he could find. These mostly consisted of fictional stories about dragon riders going on grand quests or of wild dragons competing for some prize.
At the age of ten knowing his love for dragons, Tristan’s parents bought him an encyclopedia of everything currently known about dragons and their riders. The book became a treasure of Tristan’s, he would read the text and look at the illustrations daily remembering every little detail hoping that on his eighteenth birthday he would be one of the lucky few to join the ranks of dragons riders himself.






The Road to Metopal



Tristan would turn eighteen only four months before the Dragon Hatchery would open for one week of the year. His parents, knowing his love for dragons never attempted to dissuade him from making the month-long trip to Metopal. Instead from his seventeenth birthday till the day he would leave they imparted any knowledge they felt could help see himself safely to his destination.

His father intensified his sword lessons and prepared him to craft his own weapons. His mother taught him wilderness survival and how to navigate with nothing but a crude map and stars.

Time flew by for the young man and sooner than he would have liked he waved his parents goodbye. With his supplies on his back, armed with a short sword, two daggers he crafted himself and a hunting bow his mother crafted for him. He started his journey to Metopal alongside five others brave enough to test their fate.

The first week of the trip was safe enough as Colas’s guards regularly patrolled the roads. It would be the weeks after that where bandits looking for easy prey would stalk the well worn roads that cut through grasslands and forests alike anticipating the yearly pilgrimage for different reasons than the youth. It was the evening of the fourth day of the second week when the group was ambushed.

The sky was grey and rain poured down from the sky in sheets the group was searching for a place to camp for the night and had finally found a rocky outcropping when a crossbow bolt flew through the air and buried itself into the chest of a young woman named Samantha holding the hand of her childhood friend recently turned lover if the noises from their tent the previous night meant anything.

For a moment the world went still Tristan watched as the lover’s eyes went wide and Samantha’s grip on their hand loosened. Tristan’s eyes traced the direction the bolt came from and not even fifty yards away was three grinning men covered in patchwork armor made of leather and scavenged steel all holding crossbows with one man reloading his own.

In the next moment the three men shouldered their weapons and fired. Tristan remembered shouting and dragging a nearby woman to the ground a bolt flew over them but two pained screams told him the other two found their mark.
Looking around the two recent victims only barely escaped death the bolts hit an arm and leg respectively. But that still meant half their group was unable to fight and the bandits knew that as well. Four more men emerged from behind rocks on the opposite side of where the crossbowmen stood.

The crossbowmen lowered their crossbows and drew crude clubs. The four newcomers drew their own clubs. The seven men stood staring at the group with hunger, eyeing the survivors' greed and other thoughts dancing in their eyes.

From behind a boulder a voice thundered through the rain. “Surrender and all of you will live, we will even treat the wounded. Resist and well…” A feminine figure emerged from behind the boulder. In her hands was a very well cared for mace polished to shine even with the overcast skies. “Your corpses will do well enough as a warning to future travelers.” On cue the seven men stalked closer to their group.

Tristan was on his feet eyeing the eight bandits with a laser focus on the woman. Upon a closer look the woman was an orc standing at six and a half feet tall raven black hair braided back behind her head. As she got closer the young man could make out more details like the tribal tattoos most orcs were known for but one caught his attention more than the others and explained what an orc was doing leading bandits.

On her exposed stomach was a burn scar in the shape of a broken warhammer. Recognition flashed in Tristan’s eyes and the orc did not miss it. “Well, well, well we got a smart one here.” The woman walked up to Tristan with a toothy grin. Tristan reflexively reached for his sword only to feel cold steel touch his sword arm.

“Ah, ah. None of that now, show me your hands halfy.”

Tristan felt fear creep up his spine one twitch of her weapon and with the orcs strength his arm would snap like a twig. So with a deliberate motion he showed the bandit leader his hands. The orc looked him in the eyes as she took his hand in her own inspecting it, rubbing his much smaller palm with her thumb with a grunt. “Calloused, so not some scholar locked up in a tower so a laborer or artisan’s son. Though not a farmer, skin is too fair for that.

The Orc firmly gripped his arm running from the wrist to the shoulder and Tristan felt heat rush from his face to the tips of his ears. “Lean well muscled, focused mostly on agility and flexibility, quick sharp movements and trained from a young age to. I would imagine legs are the same. He takes from his elven side more than human one. Always found elves that laid with humans to be crazy, lifespans are too different.”

As the orc finished her examination she rested her mace against her shoulder once more and let go of his arm. That was when Tristan saw a flash in the corner of his vision then the scream of a man. Tristan’s head snapped to the source of the scream and saw a bandit on fire with the woman he pulled to the ground looking a bit tired. Their eyes met and she shouted. “Run!”

The shout seemed to break everyone out of the stunned silence. Tristan and the others all took off in different directions; the two injured men helped each other make a run for it.

The bandits split up and chased after them. Tristan spotted one of the bandits rushing towards him club raised high and the years of training with both his father and mother kicked in as he continued his charge then ducked as the bandit swung the club causing it to fly over his head. Without thinking Tristan pulled out a dagger from its sheath and slammed it into the bandits side, the old leather parting like paper and the bandit erupted in a surprised scream.

Tristan yanked his dagger out of the bandit and continued running, his adrenaline running too high for him to register anything but the thoughts of getting as far away as possible.

Tristan did not pay much attention to how long he ran, just that there were no bandits following him and he was exhausted. Tristan looked for a place to camp, set up his tent and ate some of his trail rations before quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

The rest of the trip passed in a blur as Tristan focused on getting to the city as fast as possible using the map his parents gave him and the occasional sign to guide his way. Fate must have been smiling on Tristan as the rest of the trip was uneventful.









The City of Metopal


Tristan arrived at Metopal on time for the opening of the Dragon Hatchery. The city walls of white brick that shimmered in the sunlight towered before him, twice as tall as the walls around Colas. The line to get into the city was massive stretching for over a mile though it moved relatively swiftly. Before too long Tristan was at the city gates, the guards asked him the reason for his arrival and he told them he was here for the opening of the Dragon Hatchery.

The guard waved Tristan through the gateway to the city proper, briefly telling him to just walk straight down the main road and get in a line near the castle. Upon entering the city Tristan was stunned. Buildings made of the same stone as the walls lined the side of the sparkling stone roads sporting signs advertising restaurants, inns, bars and other shops with countless people walking about. Tristan swore there were more people on this road then any part of Colas at its busiest.

The more Tristan walked the more he was left speechless. The scale of the city was unlike anything he had seen before, dozens of guards in gleaming silver armor patrolled the streets and Tristan swore he saw a dragon cross the sky in the distance.






The Dragon Egg Vault

Before long Tristan found the line the guard at the gate mentioned filled with people his age leading to a grand building with motifs of dragons covering the walls and a statue of the first Dragon Rider and his dragon atop the roof. People from all walks of life bursting with anticipation and hope filled the line but the excitement was tempered by the sight of the people exiting the building wearing downcast expressions filled with uncertainty though any nobles or merchants children exiting had looks of disappointment more like losing a game of cards then having their dreams shattered.

It was several hours before Tristan reached the front of the line and was permitted to enter the Dragon Hatchery. Before entering he was told to leave his pack and weapons with the guards, after complying with the instructions was allowed inside.

It was warm and humid inside the Hatchery, glowing crystals along the walls and on pillars provided just enough light for Tristan to see where he was going. The eggs sat in neat rows providing walkways.

Tristan could swear the room was much bigger then it appeared from the outside as the rows of eggs stretched out before him. Tristan took a moment to let the shock pass, reminding himself this was his first and only chance to see his childhood dream come true. With that in mind Tristan began to wander among the rows of eggs barely noticing the other hopefuls in the Hatchery with him.

The eggs came in countless sizes and colors, some as big as a small boulder and others just a bit bigger than his fist. Tristan’s hand gilded over the eggs as he walked up and down the rows sometimes cutting across to another row without much thought to why after sometime he ended up in a trance-like state his wandering becoming even more erratic until he just stopped.

Tristan reached out towards a midnight blue egg with thin lines of sunset orange the size of his torso, upon touching the egg his trance broke as he felt a tingling travel through his arm and race through the rest of his body rendering him unconscious.
Tristan’s sense slowly came back. First he felt the wind rush around his face and through his hair then his eyes opened and he found himself flying on dragon back. From where he was he could see the dragon head to tail was around a hundred feet long and twelve feet from the bottom of its feet to where the back met the neck.

The dragon’s scales were midnight blue that turned to sunset orange at the edges and twin blue spines ran down the dragon’s neck to the tail with an area around the base of the neck large enough for a man to sit free of them. Tristan felt the link they shared and smiled, patting the side of her neck she gave him a toothy smile in return.

He noticed he was wearing scale armor that appeared to be made from the same scales his dragon had, looking around he also noticed on top of several dagger glowing with enchantments, a bow and arrows on his back and a arming sword at his side he possessed a halberd that felt comfortable in his right hand.

Ryvyne (Rye-Vine) and Tristan flew past a town bordered by a forest, from Ryvyne’s back he watched as children and parents alike stared at them with awe.

“Lets land here for a bit Ryvyne.”

“We do have somewhere to be, remember?”
“They have waited over a week and a couple hours won’t kill anyone.”

Ryvyne shook her head, amusement flowing through their bond.

“Fine the hatchlings are more fun to be around then noble parties or war meetings and a fresh cow is always nice.”

Without another word Ryvyne went into a lazy circle above the field going lower with each rotation and landed once she was low enough giving the children and other villagers enough time to walk to the field.

Tristan put his halberd on a hook hanging off of the bags that rested on either side of Ryvyne’s back with clasps anchored around several of her back spines and straps looped around her chest to keep them from moving around. Other than the bags, Ryvyne wore no saddle as they did not really need one.

The children swarmed the pair with laughs and smiles as Ryvyne laid down and Tristan hopped off her back. A feeling of contentment passed between the Dragon and Rider.

Then Tristan woke up.



The first thing Tristan noticed before he opened his eyes was a weight on his chest and when he opened them he saw a dragon hatchling that resembled a smaller version of the one from his dream head resting on his chest.

“Ryvyne.” Tristan spoke aloud, testing the name on his tongue.

“Tristan.” A girlish voice sounded in his mind as if right next to his ear. With the voice came a feeling of happiness.

Tristan scratched Ryvyne’s head with a smile. She was currently the size of a large dog but from his vision she would one day grow much much larger.

After some time he noticed a man in plate armor made to resemble dragon scales stood above his prone form. “It seems you both have been chosen by fate. Young man, follow me.” The voice was a gentle baritone.
Tristan nodded and got up with Ryvyne following after him.










The Academy

Tristan and Ryvyne were led to a place outside of the city in the opposite direction of the Hatchery’s entrance where other dragon and rider pairs of all races waited. A half dozen more joined them before the day ended and several men and women dressed like the man that greeted Tristan approached and told them to follow closely as getting lost in the desert would be a death sentence for all but the most lucky.

It was also explained that there would be enough food and water to sustain the entire group but for anything fancier than dried meat and fruit with water they would have to learn to hunt themselves.

The travel through the desert was uncomfortable for Tristan and Ryvyne but thanks to being tired of eating dried meat the pair quickly tried hunting for something better. At first they met no real success but as they got better at learning to use their connection to synchronize themselves and share information and as Ryvyne got better at forming words and sentences they were met with more success catching small animals and sometimes larger borrowing creatures complementing their own meal of dried meat with a much tastier dish.

Ryvyne even started to learn to use her dragon's fire during their journey though they decided to not try and cook with it directly for now as all attempts ended up with charred meat that was still raw on the inside.

During the cold nights the pair found that sleeping next to each other in the tent with a blanket was very comfortable and warm for the pair.

It took two weeks to cross the desert and another two days to get to Hysrai Academy proper there Tristan and Ryvyne would learn more about their bond, how it would affect them and what the future held.










Dragon (Ryvyne) colors visual:

primary scale color and eye color

color at the edges of the scales
Twin Blue The color of Ryvyne’s spines




Description Tristan

Six feet tall, a wiry build from all the years training under his mother. Shoulder length dark brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail no, facial hair and dark blue eyes. his face is sharp and angular in shape ( Like a upside down triangle) and his eyes are deep set.

He wears rugged traveling clothes, a belt with pouches for things like lockpicks and other small items, his sword and one dagger hang from his belt while the other dagger is stored in a sheath on the inside of his boot. his bow and quiver are strapped to his back when he is not carrying a backpack.


Gear (Starting)

Backpack with tent, tools for weapon maintenance, fire starting, any dried rations and lockpicks. A short sword, and two daggers he crafted himself, a hunting bow his mother crafted for him.

 

[One of Hearts]

The fall of a Theif, KelKesh’s (Fletcher’s) story:

The fall of a Theif, KelKesh’s (Fletcher’s) story: Short beginnings: Kalkesh was a young elf in the outskirts of Aldren. His home was more of a small village than anything else but everything was peaceful. That was until the bandits came. They didn’t take money, valuables or food. They took him…...

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Here is the link, I'll be able to post post it after work!

 

[The Mechanist]

Renellius Riptide, calm, friendly, and over all welcoming to those around him. Being of the sea elf tribe he has learned that one must never fight the current, lest it sweep you away to never be seen again. Instead go with the flow and you’ll find yourself pleasantly returned as everything is a cycle
View attachment 1214442


Years past and having heard of an academy for people like him, people whom have dragons, ren set off on the pilgrimage to seek out the academy and join a cohort of those who share his blessing.
View attachment 1214443

 

[DracoNightshade]

You know what I just realized? I never actually wrote a proper backstory for Alex.

 

[wolfborn4]

Upbringing

While her mother was a quiet and distant woman who kept to herself her father was a loudspoken and charismatic man. Climbing his way into success with marriage to seal his legacies' fate into nobility. The once simple man soon became a father, thusly his daughter's future was his next empire to create.

Born into her father's legacy Sylphia had every decision in her life already laid out before her. From the beginning it was lessons on etiquette and being dressed up like a prize for potential suitors. Attending every party and gathering her silver-toungued father could worm them into. Although her true passion was discovered through a simple party trick, a passing display meant to entertain to the dull and entitled people Sylphia was forced to converse with. With a wave of the mages wrist a stunning display of sparkling lights that flickered and popped like bubbles from a glass of champagne her entire dollhouse world fell away. A passion had been ignited inside her. She would become a powerful mage.... Or so she thought.

Chosen

Sylphia had spent any and all spare time to the study of magic and it's history but her goals remained her father's decision. After learning of the highly respected Dragon Riders and their ties to spoiled nobles whose money bought their way to glory another piece of her future was decided. So on her 18th birthday Sylphia was escorted to the Hatchery alongside dozens of other prospective nobles. Determined to control one piece of her life Sylphia kept her arms firmly crossed as their guide walked them through what seemed like endless catacombs of dragons' eggs great and small in just as endless different colors and patterns. While the sight was beautiful and reminded her of her first experience with magic she couldn't let herself be distracted from her true passions.

Although just then what seemed like a coincidence the steps beneath her feet gave way just an inch or so lower than expected. Stumbling forwards Sylphia's outstretched hands aimed to catch her fall and for a moment luck was on her side as a blank dark patch between a vibrant blue egg and one of a dusty tan became a clear godsend. That was until her fingers brushed across the top of a near pitch black egg masked against the darkened wall just behind it. It felt rough, nearly enough to scratch her delicate hands but warm. It's warmth which spread over her like a familiar breath was the last thing she felt before a surge of what seemed like someone else's memories raced through her. The image of enormous leathery wings spread out above her like a descending storm, frightening yet oddly it brought a sense of relief. Much of what she saw she tried to forget but that moment had really stuck with her.

As Sylphia's eyes fluttered open she met a glistening gaze with eyes so dark her own reflection stared back at her. "Neirros." The thought permeated her mind, feeling as if the voice wanted to say more she hesitated but nothing followed. Sitting up into a new realization, the gaze she met had a form with spines creeping around shadows and glinting in the soft light it dawned on her. Sylphia the mage had become Sylphia the Dragon Rider. Neirros as the hatchling had referred to himself as was larger than a dog but not quite as sizeable as a horse landing somewhere in the middle where even after Sylphia was back on her feet their gaze still met. The reflection staring back at her had an expression unworthy of a noble woman, at least that's what her mother would say.

Broken Dreams

The days that followed where a whirlwind of experiences while vastly different and far more exciting than her life at home left Sylphia with a pressing sense of longing that seemed to grow the more she realized her father's plans weren't something she could get away from anymore. Being chosen by a dragon who had yet to say but a few words other than it's name. Then whisked away to the prestigious hidden dragon rider academy. What should've been a time to take in all the things that had happened so far and get a break to process her emotions was instead met with what was quite possibly the worst dorm arrangement ever come across. The most stuck up downright vicious nobles who she was meant to become "friends" with and live alongside nearly threw Sylphia out themselves. As if any noble ever dared lift a finger, but their words where enough and after the cretins wandered off in a pompous flock for orientation she took action desperate for peace of mind. Thankfully her venture was successful and a new dorm assignment was to be issued during orientation, she was told her things would be taken care of as well which was another relief. Never talking to those demonspawn again was a blessing. Thankfully orientation was about to begin.

Sylphia Maldwyn


Neirros
[near•rows]​

 

[Chaotic Poem]

Professor Lirien Veyne​

Potions & Runes Instructor at Hysrai Dragon School

Basic Information​

• Name: Professor Lirien Veyne
• Age: 42
• Species: Elf (High Elf)
• Appearance: Tall and willowy, with silver-streaked auburn hair often tied in an intricate braid. Piercing blue eyes that seem to read minds. Always wears robes of deep indigo, embroidered with ancient runes.
• Personality: Strict but fair, Lirien expects discipline and precision in her classes. She has a dry wit and a deep passion for ancient magic. She believes mastery of potions and runes is essential for any serious magic user.
• Specialty:
  • Creates powerful enchanted elixirs.
  • Expert in ancient runic magic, able to craft spells into physical symbols.
  • Known for her innovative fusion of potion-brewing and runic enhancement.
    
    
    Background & Teaching Style
    
    
  • Former scholar of the Celestial Arcana Guild, she left academia for Hysrai to ensure proper training in forgotten magical arts.
  • She is bonded to a pink she-dragon named Ithir, who assists in her lessons.
  • Uses hands-on methods; students are often thrown into complex brewing or tasked with deciphering cryptic runes under pressure.
  • Believes mistakes are the best teacher—if you survive them.