Post by Sokuro on Jul 15, 2009 1:30:04 GMT -5
Name- Vargim (Last name non-existent)
Human Age- Approximately mid twenties
Draconic Age- Four-hundred and seventy-two
Race- Dragon
Strengths(Human form)- Eternal youth, moderately improved physical strength and speed, faster regeneration of wounds.
Strengths(Dragon form)- Armored scales, flight
Weaknesses- While he has no specific vulnerabilities, he is no different than any mortal. He can be slain by any who can best him, and perhaps even claimed by those who believe they can, shall we say, tame him.
Weapons(Human form)- Longsword engraved with draconic symbols.
Weapons(Dragon form)- Talons, flame breath, miasma breath
Description(Human form)- Vargim stood at nearly six feet tall, reddish-brown hair falling about his face and shoulders, and eyes a shimmering ruby. His armor, no more crafted in his human form than in his draconic, were a deep midnight blue, each scale from risen neck-guard to the links of his shin-guards and gloves rimmed with a hairline thin strand of ruby themselves; adding a somewhat fiery hue to his image if ever the light of the world would fade. The body beneath this armor was sculpted to fine care and riddled with only a single scar that tore along his back from left shoulder to right hip. Strung along his back was a long-blade held by no more than two leather straps, shining as bright as the moon, but darkened by flaming glyphs along its center.
Description(Dragon form)- As with most dragons, their true form was quite a bit bigger than their mortal ones; Vargim's in question, were a length of only twenty feet from muzzle to tail, adorned with midnight scales and pure ruby eyes. However, unlike his human form, the scar upon Vargim's back did not show- Rather, hidden beneath newly grown scales. Although this part of his body were considerably more delicate. His wings carried a span of sixty feet from tip to tip, though when collapsed to his back, it would appear he had none at all. The webbing of his wings, due to their short span, stretched along either side of his spine from shoulder to tail with an odd pair of grooves just beneath where they attached within his scales. When he were to collapse his wings, the grooves in question served as, shall we say, pockets; Hiding the delicate webbings beneath the scaled joints to protect them from harm.
Personality- Often the quiet type(As seems a trend with my characters. Heh) Vargim had a very demure persona about him, though if approached he is often kind-hearted and helpful; Though it seemed those around him could not help but feel a bit uneasy if lingering for too long.
History- As a whelp, Vargim's mother had attempted to flee from her Flight, not wanting her bloodline to be remembered as violent as those she herself were born into. However, while attempted to find shelter with her little one in arms, Vargim's mother had lost her footing along the edges of a cliff, tumbling down the jagged terrain while curled tightly around Vargim in hopes to protect him in their descent. Glimpse by glimpse they neared the bottom of the drop, Vargim's mother's body torn, cut, and nearly shredded by the sharp stones until they came to a sudden stop, Vargim and his mother finding their body impaled to an upright stone. While his mother had taken the brunt of the stone, the tip had still found its way into Vargim's infantile form. With what little breath remained, Vargim's mother freed her child from the stone and uttered her final words. In the blink of an eye, the young infant, in human form, found himself crying upon the shores of a lake, his own life slowly fading to darkness.
It was then, that Vargim was found by a most peculiar stranger, her paws and wet nose scouring over the infant before her in curiosity, only to roll the little one over and dress his wounds with a tender few licks. it seemed a female cougar had taken interest in the child, and after ensuring his wound was no longer freely bleeding, she took him in her maw with a tender care, claiming the infant as her own.
Years passed and the child grew, never knowing of his bloodline. Decades, centuries grazed by him and his savior, leaving Vargim to wonder just why he had not aged beyond his twenties, or why this cougar beside him has not succumb to age herself. The years that passed, Vargim spent his time hiding within the alleys of towns and cities, listening to the people in an attempt to learn their language... Several decades time proved enough. And now he wanders from town to town, with his companion Kishri at his side, watching the world grow and change as he remained, frozen within the hourglass.
((Not one of my better details. Y-Y))
Human Age- Approximately mid twenties
Draconic Age- Four-hundred and seventy-two
Race- Dragon
Strengths(Human form)- Eternal youth, moderately improved physical strength and speed, faster regeneration of wounds.
Strengths(Dragon form)- Armored scales, flight
Weaknesses- While he has no specific vulnerabilities, he is no different than any mortal. He can be slain by any who can best him, and perhaps even claimed by those who believe they can, shall we say, tame him.
Weapons(Human form)- Longsword engraved with draconic symbols.
Weapons(Dragon form)- Talons, flame breath, miasma breath
Description(Human form)- Vargim stood at nearly six feet tall, reddish-brown hair falling about his face and shoulders, and eyes a shimmering ruby. His armor, no more crafted in his human form than in his draconic, were a deep midnight blue, each scale from risen neck-guard to the links of his shin-guards and gloves rimmed with a hairline thin strand of ruby themselves; adding a somewhat fiery hue to his image if ever the light of the world would fade. The body beneath this armor was sculpted to fine care and riddled with only a single scar that tore along his back from left shoulder to right hip. Strung along his back was a long-blade held by no more than two leather straps, shining as bright as the moon, but darkened by flaming glyphs along its center.
Description(Dragon form)- As with most dragons, their true form was quite a bit bigger than their mortal ones; Vargim's in question, were a length of only twenty feet from muzzle to tail, adorned with midnight scales and pure ruby eyes. However, unlike his human form, the scar upon Vargim's back did not show- Rather, hidden beneath newly grown scales. Although this part of his body were considerably more delicate. His wings carried a span of sixty feet from tip to tip, though when collapsed to his back, it would appear he had none at all. The webbing of his wings, due to their short span, stretched along either side of his spine from shoulder to tail with an odd pair of grooves just beneath where they attached within his scales. When he were to collapse his wings, the grooves in question served as, shall we say, pockets; Hiding the delicate webbings beneath the scaled joints to protect them from harm.
Personality- Often the quiet type(As seems a trend with my characters. Heh) Vargim had a very demure persona about him, though if approached he is often kind-hearted and helpful; Though it seemed those around him could not help but feel a bit uneasy if lingering for too long.
History- As a whelp, Vargim's mother had attempted to flee from her Flight, not wanting her bloodline to be remembered as violent as those she herself were born into. However, while attempted to find shelter with her little one in arms, Vargim's mother had lost her footing along the edges of a cliff, tumbling down the jagged terrain while curled tightly around Vargim in hopes to protect him in their descent. Glimpse by glimpse they neared the bottom of the drop, Vargim's mother's body torn, cut, and nearly shredded by the sharp stones until they came to a sudden stop, Vargim and his mother finding their body impaled to an upright stone. While his mother had taken the brunt of the stone, the tip had still found its way into Vargim's infantile form. With what little breath remained, Vargim's mother freed her child from the stone and uttered her final words. In the blink of an eye, the young infant, in human form, found himself crying upon the shores of a lake, his own life slowly fading to darkness.
It was then, that Vargim was found by a most peculiar stranger, her paws and wet nose scouring over the infant before her in curiosity, only to roll the little one over and dress his wounds with a tender few licks. it seemed a female cougar had taken interest in the child, and after ensuring his wound was no longer freely bleeding, she took him in her maw with a tender care, claiming the infant as her own.
Years passed and the child grew, never knowing of his bloodline. Decades, centuries grazed by him and his savior, leaving Vargim to wonder just why he had not aged beyond his twenties, or why this cougar beside him has not succumb to age herself. The years that passed, Vargim spent his time hiding within the alleys of towns and cities, listening to the people in an attempt to learn their language... Several decades time proved enough. And now he wanders from town to town, with his companion Kishri at his side, watching the world grow and change as he remained, frozen within the hourglass.
((Not one of my better details. Y-Y))
' Bloody heck, two jobs and a BUNCH of kerfuffle later, and I'm back AGAIN.