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Fantasy ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐’‰๐’†๐’“๐’‚๐’๐’… ๐’‚๐’๐’… ๐’‰๐’†๐’“ ๐’„๐’‰๐’‚๐’Ž๐’‘๐’Š๐’๐’ -- cs & other.

๐“๐“ถ๐“ฒ๐“ผ๐“ผ๐“ฎ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ ๐“ธ๐“ฏ ๐“”๐“พ๐“ต๐“ฒ๐“พ๐“ผ, ๐““๐“ช๐“พ๐“ฐ๐“ฑ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ป ๐“ฝ๐“ธ ๐“–๐“ช๐“ต๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฒ๐“ท, ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“–๐“ธ๐“ต๐“ญ๐“ฎ๐“ท ๐“–๐“ธ๐“ญ

tbe. character sheet, bio, personality.


bio.

Amissethโ€™s first years after hatching had been in the body of a dragonโ€™s babe with pearly white scales, razor sharp claws, and vicious teeth. Though dragons were known to age slowly, the priestesses who had brought her to their sanctuary in the Eduates did not think much of her quick progression, nor her uncanny ability to understand their words and meanings. She was a troublemaker though, always finding herself in places she shouldnโ€™t be, in trees too tall to climb or jump down from, or running from the kitchen with the cooks yelling after her for stealing one thing or another.

Around the eleventh year since her hatching, in the dragonโ€™s stead awoke a young girl whose eyes shown with the same unbridled curiosity of her scaley counterpart. Her arrival at breakfast had spread confusion and fear amongst the priestesses at first, until she assured them near perfectly that it was her, Amisseth, and she too did not understand the change but found it so intriguing.

Life changed drastically for little Amiss after that, and quite quickly too. The Priestess on High had sent word through her messengers to find her loyal friends and ask them for aid, to help raise her charge. Up until this point Amisseth had been nothing more than a curious companion in the Eduates, another mythical creature hidden in sanctuary. The change had brought forth questions and concerns, internal turmoil that threatened their way of life and the life of the one theyโ€™d saved. And so, Amisseth became the Priestess on Highโ€™s personal ward, protected and raised by her hand.


The first to arrive was Finnuick Lavela, a stout man with a grand moustache and no-nonsense attitude. He was to train her to fight, to hold a sword and shield, to duck from blows and deliver her own.

Then, Tris the beastmaster arrived in the next spring, a gentle woman who was eager to see Amissethโ€™s dragon form and to watch and train her how to change from one form to another. While it was a first for her to do so, the pair got along well. Trisโ€™ curiosity for everything only fed into Amissethโ€™s and the two often spent the most time together.

Finally, an old hag and her own ward appeared one day, uninterested in the fine things the priestesses attempted to show and share with them. Vyzza and Merlet were their names, not quite mother and daughter but something akin by the way they behaved towards each other. Merlet quickly became Amissethโ€™s closest friend, practically her sister, and the two trained together in the safety of the Eduates until they were both twenty-two and deemed ready for the world. While Merlet was not to be Amissethโ€™s rider, the two had trained as if they were. A safety measure should they ever need to fall on it, the High Priestess would say.

At twenty-two, Merlet, Amisseth, an acolyte of the priestesses by the name of Carcenna, and Finnuickโ€™s youngest son, Ben, were sent out of the Eduates with only one task in mind; find a rider, and find the remainders of her prophecy.
 
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history i.
๐’‰๐’๐’˜ ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐’๐’‚๐’”๐’• ๐’๐’‡ ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐’…๐’“๐’‚๐’ˆ๐’๐’๐’” ๐’„๐’‚๐’Ž๐’† ๐’•๐’ ๐’ƒ๐’†.
โ€“โ€“โ€“ As the presence of dragons came to a gruesome end, the hatred between man and beast had made its mark on the world. Dragons and riders were separated as lines were drawn, forced to pick a side. Some say the split began as rumors spread like widlfire of dragons born with the ability to shift, to take on the form of humans. Whether born from an unseemly joining or gifted by an old hag saved from a terrible fate, the existence of those babes wreaked havoc for nearly two decades. The stake had been driven deep between rider and dragon, cleaving their worlds apart once again as the dragons were called to defend their lineage from such an abomination. Man soon sought to take back their lives, seeing dragons as the monsters they once were to them.
โ€“โ€“โ€“ A man by the name of Galtainin had stood in the shadows as the Dragon Wars waged, a cunning little thing who had watched others play the game. Silently he had arranged for the Commander to be killed, only to rise up in his place with a fiery passion to take down the dragons by any means necessary. His vitriol pushed aside any questions of his sudden rise into power, man too engrossed in his promises to wonder why he cared so much, who he was, or where he had come from.
โ€“โ€“โ€“ Galtaininโ€™s rise into power came with perks at an astonishing rate. Once a man of nothing, in three years he found himself taking over the deceased commanderโ€™s role, barking orders to his underlings to push onward. He had amassed control of over 25,000 men and women ready and willing to take down those terrible beasts, adorned in a stolen suit of golden armor crafted long ago by ancient armorers found buried in a decrepit temple. They called him Galtainin, the Golden God as he guided them into battles, his hatred for dragons corrupting his very being and everything in his path.
โ€“โ€“โ€“ Before humans and dragons had learned to trust one another, they had been tremendous beasts feared for the destruction just one could bring, something only whispered on hushed breaths. With Galtainin guiding them, that fear had been warped and twisted into a burning rage, the years of codependency thrown in the gutter as if it had meant nothing. One of the first things that man had done after rising to power and amassing his resources, was hunt down his own dragon that he had known, loved, and ridden for many years.
โ€“โ€“โ€“ She had been foolish to linger closer than most dared, hopeful that her Galtainin would return and they would be free to ride off, away from this disaster. It was her blood that spilled first on his golden armor, fear shining in her eyes as she was fooled and executed by her own riderโ€™s hand. Her corpse had been brought back as a show of his word, and the next fourteen years proved that his brutality knew almost no end.
โ€“โ€“โ€“ What Galtainin had missed in his bloodthirst and revenge was the tiny egg hidden in the darkest shadows of his dragonโ€™s nest, a brilliant little thing of blues and greens with sworls of a pearlescent pink and white painting the shell. As the dragon wars waged, the egg sat unmoving for years before the curiosity of a quiet, young priestess and her search for adventure crossed its path. Another decade passed before the egg stirred within the Grand Temple of the Eduates, little cracks echoing in the near silent hall as the babe - one of the last dragons left - began to hatch.
 

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