The Dragon Wardens

[CloudyBlueDay]

The flirts. O_O

 

[Red Thunder]

The flirts. O_O

Oh hush, Cloudy. Politeness is different than flirting.

 

[LadyMatsudai]

[QUOTE="Red Thunder]Oh hush, Mac. Politeness is different than flirting.

[/QUOTE]
But politeness is just the gateway to flirting

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

Flirt! Flirt! Flirt! Flirt!

 

[Red Thunder]

But politeness is just the gateway to flirting

Lol, maybe. But I'm married.

 

[Macaberz]

[QUOTE="Red Thunder]Lol, maybe. But I'm married.

[/QUOTE]
Just wait until I do my hair flip.

 

[Red Thunder]

Just wait until I do my hair flip.

Like so?

 

[LadyMatsudai]

Yay! Thank you!

 

[Macaberz]

[QUOTE="Red Thunder]Like so?
-snip-

[/QUOTE]
Oh god. You're treading on some mighty thin ice here...

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

 

[Red Thunder]

Oh god. You're treading on some mighty thin ice here...

Hah. If it ain't thin, it ain't fun. I live for the danger.


 
But seriously, no offense intended. Only in good fun.

 

[Macaberz]

-snip-

Close but I do my hairflips in slow motion with a bright white lens flare in the background and a choir singing. Oh and I wear sunglassse too .

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

?

 

[Macaberz]

?

I never noticed you recording me. Oh well. I have one with a rose between my teeth as well, but that's only for special cases.

 

[Keitsumah]

*chuckles* Mac ive seen a pic of u and... LOLi don't think you've grown you hair that long. ^^

 

[Macaberz]

*chuckles* Mac ive seen a pic of u and... LOLi don't think you've grown you hair that long. ^^

Pff, I can mop the floor with my hair.

 

[Keitsumah]

...You might receive a not-so-suble hint from one of your various communications systems shortly. One includes either vocal or and video communications services. ^^

 

[Unwavering Knight]

• Tronje
• Eelikas
• Other
• Writing Sample

• 
  
  
  
  
  Name:Tronje
  
  
  Age: 30
  
  
  Race: Human
  
  
  Appearance: The first impression one would gain upon his appearance usually ranges from the confused to the amused, with his smallish frame standing at five feet and six inches, equipped with a plain face, marred by a few scars and a missing blue eye covered up by a patch, perpetually graced by an inviting smile that exposes pearl-white teeth, with shoulder-long, meticulousely combed hair covered by hat-gear that can be called flamboyant at the best of times. When around others, he carries himself in a fashion that most would describe as either 'lordly' or 'pretentious', his voice and form radiating a youthful passion that seems to defy his past experiences.
  
  
  Personality: At first glance, Tronje appears as an eccentric, but ultimately kind-hearted individual with a strong sense of justice and honest pride in the principles of the Dragon Wardens, an exemplary of an Emasari. Unfortunately, his sheer pride and unlikely energy often appear to induce bouts of mania, often culminating in him losing most of his monetary resources on life's simpler pleasures, alcohol being chief amongst them.
  
  
  When the rush wears off, a predictable amount of distraughtness and tendency for melancholy sets in, giving sight of the great grief and guilt he feels over the destruction of Haven and the death of his wife just weeks prior to the event.
  
  
  Just as quickly he can recover, taking heart in his memory of his family, indeed drawing an apparently endless amount of determination-induced energy from the wish to free his daughter who he believes to be held somewhere in Thallas. This passion grants him the hope with which he readily charges to the aid of of the innocent and the needy, reinforcing his faith in the purpose of the Dragon Wardens despite all the failings in his life.
  
  
  Strengths: -Charismatic
  
  
  -Inventive
  
  
  -Experienced
  
  
  -Well-Educated
  
  
  -Quite capable with Logistics
  
  
  -Great emotional intelligence, coming close to empathy
  
  
  -Impeccable Sense of Style
  
  
  -High Alcohol Tolerance
  
  
  Weaknesses: -Overt Flamboyance does not lend itself well to clandestine operation
  
  
  -Delusional
  
  
  -Tendency for excess, bouts of hedonism
  
  
  -Arrogant
  
  
  -Mentally Frail
  
  
  Magical Attunement: Arcane
  
  
  Secondary weapon specialization: If he has to resort to conventional weaponry, he prefers the usage of the crossbow, though his recent loss of depth-perception has the tendency to throw off his aim at longer distances.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  Name: Eelikas
  
  
  Type: Arcane
  
  
  Height and length: 17' by 38'
  
  
  Personality: Before the fall of Haven, Eelikas's mindset was one of quiet inquisitiveness, viewing the world with the eyes of a scholar, presenting little more than callousness towards humanoids and dragons alike, even drawing some amusement from watching their struggles wherever she and Tronje encountered them. She viewed the study of human emotions as a hobby of hers.
  
  
  The fall of Haven, the desperation of survival, and perhaps a number of events that the dragon chooses to bury deep within her have brought on a dramatic change. Gone is the scholarly mindset, replaced by a terrible, seething hatred that utters itself in downright sadism if the Dragon Warden doesn't manage to restrain her.
  
  
  Having developed a strange obsession, she will violently oppose any attempt to be seperated from Tronje, and will in fact try to scare off anyone seeking to communicate with him, with eyes casting a baleful vigil. If there is nothing to fight or hate in sight, she appears to derive enjoyment from goading others for the sole purpose of studying their resulting emotional turmoil. If she doesn't descend into an exhausted, bitter stupor or a soliloquy teeming with nihilism, that is.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Around his neck, Tronje has recently taken to proudly display a locket of simple brass, the sort that some would use to store small mementos of loved ones, such as pictures, portraits or other some such sentimentality. In Tronje's case, the locket remains empty.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  "And-" the voice of the page intones again, sharply resounding even over the tumultuous beginnings of the festival "-rising to the occasion, the sir Helbrecht of Belatia!"
  
  
  The crowd - caught in the mood, first gives cheers as befitting for all the brave combatants willing to test their mettle. The volume lessened by a noticeable amount when the bearer of the name entered the duel-area with heavy step, sunlight gleaming off the massive steel-clad form, helmeted gaze held straight ahead onto the opponent, one plated hand grasping a blunted sword bereft of guard that seemed too small for the hulking frame.
  
  
  He did not halt his advance, simply steadily kept on moving towards his would-be opponent, sir Robert, who had taken a single step back with his shield raised in an instinctive gesture of defense before he composed himself.
  
  
  Despite his family's material standing, sir Robert still was a veteran and there had been a good reason why he had been chosen to represent the reputation, mere size of his opponent would not have him waver now, though of course it might serve as an advantage for the opposition.
  
  
  Mere five paces from Robert, the dark frame suddenly halted, staring down his opponent for another moment before looking up, onto the crowd beholding the spectacle. The viewers in the first rows found themselves lowering their gazes as they felt the black knight's helmeted view on them, deciphering their faces as if searching for something.
  
  
  After several moments of silence, Helbrecht affixed his gaze on his opponent again, who still stood his ground.
  
  
  "Hail." an ugly, rasping voice emerged from behind the steel covering Helbrecht's head, still resounding clearly for all to hear as he addressed Robert.
  
  
  Looking at the hulking being with suspicion burning in his eyes, Robert's own knightly honor would not have him lack proper manners as he replied, eyes darting for any sudden movement on part of the opponent "Greetings.".
  
  
  Despite himself, he could not keep a short but audible waver out of his voice for that single word.
  
  
  "Brace yourself." Helbrecht stated, resuming his advance, though without any sort of haste, his gait even and calm.
  
  
  Robert for his part remained where he was, eyes focused on finding a possible weakpoint in his opponent's defense, though he could not make out a single inch of skin from his perspective, only interlocking plates of dark steel.
  
  
  Coming into reach, the towering knight indeed chose the most straightforward approach as before, simply striking down onto the smaller opponent with his blunted weapon.
  
  
  Raising his shield to catch the blow, Robert planned to counter quickly, only to find that the massive frame suddenly drew back the sword with surprising speed before using the other hand to grab onto the shield just as quickly, throwing open the knight of Camelot's guard with sheer might.
  
  
  Quickly letting go of his shield, Robert could just leap to the side in time to avoid the sword and with it a quick end to the duel. Finding an opening, the knight moved in a well-trained movement to pierce his own weapon into Helbrecht's flank, only for his sword to clash onto that of his opponent, before the massive frame easily overpowered the smaller knight, ramming the pommel of his sword onto Robert's temple with brutal strength.
  
  
  Without a sound, Robert sank to the ground. Towering above him, the black knight stares at his downed opponent impassively, for a casual onlooker at least. But now, Robert could only guess at the sheer focus that lay hidden beneath that visor.
  
  
  Silence reigned anew, holding for several moments.
  
  
  Finally, the page announced "Sir Helbrecht of Belatia stands victorious!"
  
  
  Again, silence. Taking a step back, Helbrecht, looked onto the crowd, his helmeted view plainly on the royal dais, inquisitive gaze making no difference between neither maid, lady, nor even would-be queen as he continued his silent search.
  
  
  For but a moment, he seemed to linger on King Uther, or one of those seated around the Lord of Camelot.
  
  
  Turning around without another word, the massive knight sheathed his sword and went to leave the dueling-area so that the next combatants could begin.
  
  
  

- hats are forever.

 

[Seanzah Angel]

• Alarik
• Alannea
• Other
• Writing Sample

• 
  
  
  <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/Alarik.jpg.9491ef28774827b806b806fdf793bb38.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="62013" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/Alarik.jpg.9491ef28774827b806b806fdf793bb38.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
  
  Name: Alarik (Awl-Are-Ik)
  
  
  Age: 26
  
  
  Race: Human
  
  
  Appearance: Alarik is of average height (5'8'') and of an average build. Not too slim, but not very stocky. His skin is rather smooth and fair, save for a few freckles around his nose and cheeks. His hair used to be a long, curly mess, but has since been shortened quite a bit. It's been a while since it's cut it, though. He normally wears dark clothes, black and brown with flecks of green to camouflage himself in his preferred hiding places - the forest. However, when he's not travelling, he'll hardly be seen wearing his dark clothes, as they are too heavy and make him too hot for his ice. In fights he will strip down to the first layers of his clothes - undergarments under very thin pants and a loose shirt, though sometimes he will take it off if it isn't cool enough.
  
  
  Personality: Alarik is quiet and reserved at first, but once the ice is broken he gets quite friendly and energetic. He's very good at controlling his emotions, both so he doesn't embarrass himself in front of everyone for acting the wrong way, and because it's easier to swallow them rather than having to deal with everyone worry about him. Only under special occasions or with special people, like Alannea, will he truly open up and express his true feelings. Because of this control over his emotions, he is a very good mediator, and often thinks before he acts. He's quick, though calculated and careful - both in battle and in social situations. He can be very honest and genuine, though very manipulative, too.
  
  
  Overall, Alarik is a friendly fellow. However, cross him and you may find yourself in a very sticky situation. He's very good at controlling the tides of any fight.
  
  
  Strengths: Quick on his feet and on his thoughts, Thoughtful towards others and himself, Careful and Calculating as to knowing what to say and when to say it and what to do in battle and how to do it, Persuasive in tight situations, and Protective of his friends, and especially his dragon.
  
  
  Weaknesses: Stubborn when he feels that he is right in what he's doing, Nosy when something isn't about him - he likes knowing everything, sometimes Overthinks things and it gets him into situations he can't easily remove himself from, sometimes gets easily Distracted by little things - he can be doing one thing and then something else comes up and he forgets about the first thing, and he sometimes tries too hard to get people to trust him.
  
  
  Magical Attunement: Ice.
  
  
  Secondary weapon specialization: Alarik is rather skilled with his dagger, but only uses it when he feels that his ice won't be of any use.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c35616085_PossibleDragon2.jpg.b157ca0c5c9351cf00f407648ae1ddaf.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="62014" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2015_07/57a8c35616085_PossibleDragon2.jpg.b157ca0c5c9351cf00f407648ae1ddaf.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
  
  
  Name: Alannea (Awl-Awn-Ay-Uh)
  
  
  Type: Ice.
  
  
  Height and length: 8'10'' tall and 17'5'' long.
  
  
  Personality: Alannea, though she's an Ice dragon, has a very warm heart. One of her favorite things to do at night is curl up against Alarik and watch the movement of the sky above them. She enjoys competing against her Dragon Warden, challenging him to freeze things faster than she can. Usually Alannea wins because she is a dragon, though there are times when Alarik bests her. And, like almost all bonded dragons with their wardens, Alannea is extremely protective and hostile to anyone who wishes Alarik ill will. On the other side of that coin, anyone who is a friend of Alarik is a friend of his dragon. There is the fact, of course, that if she suspects any unfriendly activity or foul play, she will act upon it with extreme prejudice. Overall, Alannea is a very friendly, however dangerous and deadly dragon. She gets easily excited when Alarik comes to see her after he has been away longer than a few minutes, and she enjoys flying as high as the clouds with him on her back. Even more than that, she loves when Alarik bets the furry patch under her chin, in between two of her spikes.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  Alarik wears a silver chain necklace around his neck. It's nothing intricate or special, just small links of silver around his neck. He calls it his good luck charm because it keeps his chest cool.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  "Razel, be a dear and fetch us all some food so we can eat the next few days would you?" An old crone asked, sitting in a wicker rocking chair, rocking back and forth to an unheard beat of her own. Razel moved forward, into the old woman's line of sight and held out her hands. The woman placed a sack of coins in her hand and kissed Razel's forehead. "Thank you, dear. Your grandfather and I really appreciate it." She said and went back to rocking.
  
  
  The little girl of only twelve years, Razel, went to get her red hood from where it hung on the wall. She draped the robe around her body, the hood resting comfortably on her back. She grabbed a basket from within the kitchen and made her way out the door. "Be back soon, grandma and grandpa!" The girl shouted into the house, but got no reply - they probably couldn't hear her. She closed the door behind her after setting the latch to catch, then headed for the market.
  
  
  She followed the cobblestone path that led from her grandparents' house to the market, taking her only a few short minutes to get there. Once there, she began filling her basket with bread, apples, peaches, wheat, various spices, and several different vegetables. She paid as she went, quickly dispensing the appropriate amount of money to the merchants as she took the food. This wasn't her first time going to the market alone. She went all the time because her grandparents were too old to do it themselves. Without Razel doing their market work for them, they would either starve to death or run poor for paying someone to do all of the chores around their house.
  
  
  Razel was finished and ready to head back to her grandparents' house when she spotted a small black dog under a merchant's table. It looked weak as if it hadn't eaten in days. When it began panting she saw that its teeth were bloody - probably from scurvy. Her bottom lip stuck out as she began to pout in sorrow. She walked forward to see what she could do for it, and the closer she got the more attached she became to the small animal. When she was finally close enough to pet it, it walked towards her slowly and licked her leather shoes. Giggling, she withdrew a small loaf of bread and ripped off a piece of raw chicken from she had gotten from one of the meat merchants.
  
  
  The dog had scarfed it down within seconds as if he couldn't get enough and let out a loud bark of approval and appreciation. Then he turned tail and made way for the woods. Startled and not wanting to lose her new friend she followed the dog close behind. It led her out of the small village and to the edge of the large forest which people always said was cursed and haunted. It stopped right before reaching the tree line and looked back at her. Its eyes smiled at her and the small dog let out another bark. Then it began trotting forwards, past the tree line and into the forest. Razel's breath caught in fear as she began to debate on what to do. She looked back at the village and bit her lip. The sun was nearing the horizon and she would be late soon. However... it was only a small dog. She could get it quickly and go back home in time.
  
  
  So she put down the basket of food knowing it wouldn't take her long to get the dog then followed after it. "Come back, puppy!" She called out when she caught a glimpse of it. It went further and further, towards the heart of the forest where everyone said was the source of the curses and hauntings. Her heart began to race and her breathing picked up as she kept going, determined to get the dog.
  
  
  -- This is a small exerpt from one of my character's backstory. It was simply the first 1/4th of the first chapter.