Post by Vardrache on May 30, 2016 20:51:45 GMT -8
Vardrache, Knight of the Moon
Name: Vardrache Unaragga
Race: Dragon (Arcane)
MBTI: INFJ
Major Arcana: The Strength
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Appearance: Even in his human form Vardrache's appearance is such that a person couldn't exactly be blamed for questioning his humanity on sight. Vardrache stands at an imposing 6'6, with a muscular build similar to what one might witness a stone statue of some kind of god might have. His hair, a medium-long mane of moonlight silver, contrasts with his tan-dusky skin tone in a very...inhuman fashion.
There is also the matter of his chest, which bears a certain degree of...questioning attributes all on it's own. Namely the fact that the center of his chest has a dull, eerie green glow to it. Any magic attuned being worth their salt would be able to recognize that the glow itself is a result of some form of magic. It is this glowing mark, or seal, that currently restricts Vardrache from tapping into the true power of his draconic heritage. He still has access to the basics, but transformation of any kind is currently lost to him.
Vardrache tends to wear fairly simple, easy to wear apparel and has started to even wear armour to make up for his lack of tough scales. There isn't too much of a style that he has for himself, though he recently picked up a bitchin' purple cape.
Despite not being the most expressive dragon, Vardrache is rather outgoing and sociable, or at least he was back at home. Since leaving he's learned to adjust to the myriad of cultures one can discover in the outer reaches of Elibe, more or less maintaining an optimistic attitude about it all. That said he's still a fairly reserved individual, his range of expressions relatively small and the differences between each being rather subtle.
In combat he is confident and composed, fairly aware of his limitations and willing to push himself to the maximum in any area required. Smooth and fluid, but strong.
(Note: Despite what the picture shows, Vardrache does NOT have his chest permanently exposed all the time like that. He normally has a proper shirt and maybe even a breastplate over top, like a decent gentleman)
Personality: Vardrache would consider himself a reserved individual, but a proper summary would not necessarily have that as his defining or primary trait. Just his most obvious one. Very tough to read on a first encounter, for most anyway. He is constantly weighing everything against a deep set internal value system, a system that he keeps primarily to himself, and a result can need a moment to introspect before responding in a conversation.
That said Vardrache is a kind soul, a noble soul, when one does get to know him. He emphasizes deeply with those who have suffered loss of some kind, even if he doesn't openly show it. Vardrache is also a wandering soul, eager to explore all that he can of Elibe, both it's wonders and it's horrors in equal measure. He is not without fear of what he may come across, and yet he acts bravely and swiftly to any troubling situation, regardless of the emotions within. In fact engaging in physically demanding activities are rather refreshing and come naturally to him, and are usually less taxing to his mental energy than most other activities.
For all his wandering Vardrache does often join in to help the common-folk, or even the not-so common-folk, with their troubles from time to time. Capable of handling the average monster, less youkai, and the typical raider with relative ease, Vardrache takes pride in defending those who cannot defend themselves. However when it comes to joining a cause proper he is significantly more particular. Even if a cause is mostly just Vardrache is not likely to align himself with them if they don't fit his particular set of morals and ideals.
Vardrache isn't all about being serious 100% of the time either. He enjoys doing things he finds fun simply for the fun of it as well. His wanderlust, sitting down with a group of trusted friends and just enjoying a chat, sparring against a worthy opponent...all these things and more. The closer one gets to Vardrache, though getting truly close to him is still a fairly lengthy process, it becomes rather clear that the dragon is not much an old soul at all. He can even blush and flirt should a female catch his fancy.
History: Vardrache was born four to five centuries ago, to a feral dragon tribe known as the Unaragga. Their lands stretched to the mountains of the northeastern Reach, often capped with snow and ice. Many of Unaragga tribe were, in fact, dragons that found themselves aligned with the element of Ice. Many, but not all. Some were Earth or Lightning. A few were even Fire.
Vardrache and his family, however, were the only Arcane Dragons the Unaragga had ever known. Even their greatest rivals, the Rintalok just west of them, had no Arcane Dragons among their ranks. The Unaragga did not put much stock in this fact, however. They simply treated Vardrache and his family like any other member of the tribe.
As a result Vardrache grew in a harsh and yet friendly environment. It was unimaginably cold and there were constant territorial spats with their rivals in the Rintalok tribe. Vardrache was raised to help combat such threats, to harness the great might of his bloodline so that he may protect his people. When he was young this posed little issue for Vardrache, but as he grew older he couldn't help but question this purpose a bit more. He loved his tribe, but was there a bigger reason behind their rivalry with the Rintalok?
Then there were the human tribes around them. So isolated from any greater kingdoms or the influence of Arcadia and the Lycian Divide, they were rather primitive in how they lived. They viewed the Unaragga as gods and worshipped them, delivering gifts and offerings in order to appease them or to earn themselves good fortune in the future. The Unaragga as a whole did not take advantage of these human tribes, but they did little to actually aid them as well. A few did stand up for them just as a few did take advantage, and the latter few often found themselves at odds with Vardrache. The Arcane Dragon never did like the idea of lording over humans like Gods, for he knew they were simply another form of life. No better than the humans at all.
One day, however, the Rintalok seemed to stop bothering them. It was a relief but it was also strange. For centuries, perhaps even a millenia, the Rintalok had near constantly quarrelled with the Unaragga. To suddenly have such long standing animosity cease was almost as unnerving as it was a relief. It got to the point where the Unaragga decided to send a few of their own to scout out the lands of the Rintalok. Considering how close the two were, it was expected that they would return within a few hours.
Almost an entire day passed and the scouts never returned. The Unaragga now suspected trouble, and they began to mobilize. Even with their rivalry against the Rintalok, the Unaragga had never fought as a combined unit. They were a dragon tribe, not some human army. But if the threat was such that dragons were disappearing then they needed to be ready to fight: all of them.
And a fight did come, in the dead of night. A squad of human hunters, about twenty-five of them, entered the Unaragga tribe's territory, brandishing weapons and magic. They looked strong and well armed, and even if one questioned their small numbers the Unaragga tribe only had about twenty dragons that were truly fit for combat. The others were old dragons, that have lived for millenia, or younglings who hadn't even reached their thirtieth year.
The hunters demanded nothing. They didn't want land or resources, for the Unaragga had little to give in that regard. No, they simply attacked: their only desire apparently bloodshed. They were hunters, humans that had grown so skilled and powerful that dragons were simply another sort of prey to them. Or so they thought.
The battle was incredibly bloody. The hunter's arrogance had perhaps been their undoing as they steadily found their numbers culled, and yet the Unaragga fell in equal measure. The elderly, mothers, and children were forced to flee as dragon breath razed the land and magic shattered the earth around them.
Vardrache himself managed to kill three humans, though he suffered wounds from all of them. However one of their mages decided to put his focus on Vardrache, channeling a large amount of nether before launching it like a bolt of black lightning or a dark spear right at Vardrache. The bolt of nether pierced Vardrache's chest and he soon found his entire body wracked in agony. The nether magic spread through his insides slowly, worming it's way into the circuits through which his draconic power and arcane magic flowed, twisting around them like some sort of vine. Against his will Vardrache de-transformed, turning to his far more vulnerable human form once again.
It was then that the leader of the hunter's approached Vardrache, his large greatsword that shimmered in the moonlight was covered in the thick blood of Vardrache's kin. The battle still raged around him, but this man didn't care. He was perfectly at home in the chaos of a battlefield, a truly fearsome and powerful man. He boasted over Vardrache's agonized body, stating that he'd never slain an Arcane Dragon before.
Yet before he could end Vardrache's life he was tackled by...a human. One of the tribesmen that worshipped the Unaragga. They had come to the aid of their “gods”, calling the hunters “heathens” and “southern demons”. They were wrong, and yet were right, but none of that mattered. What mattered is that Vardrache had an opening and he seized it. The hunter had fallen in front of Vardrache, who had been brought to his hands and knees by the agony. He placed a firm grip on the fallen hunter's neck and let out a roar as he pounded his fist into the back of the man's head.
He may have been powerful. He may have been skilled. But he was still a human, being beaten down by a dragon. His skull could not withstand Vardrache's blows and, by the fifth strike, the hunter moved no longer.
That was about all Vardrache was able to do before the pain become too much, the world around him becoming black.
Vardrache hadn't expected to wake up from that slumber...and yet he did. His eyes shot open as he found himself on a bed in an unfamiliar hut of sorts. There was still a pain in his chest, but it was dull. Had he been healed. Vardrache looked down at himself and saw that there was a strange, dull green glow at the center of his chest. It almost looked like some sort of rune.
A human entered the hut some time later, wearing robes and bearing several runes tattooed on their hands and face. They claimed to be a healer from one of the human tribes that had come to the Unaragga's aid. Before asking about himself Vardrache asked what happened to his people. The healer exclaimed that the elderly and the children managed to find safety, but many of the Unaragga's warriors had fallen. Nearly all who fought had perished in the battle, while the surviving hunters fled due to the death of their leader.
Vardrache's final act had saved his tribe, but he still had the humans to thank for that.
The healer then explained a...complicated situation to Vardrache. He had managed to stop the nether magic from destroying Vardrache from the inside out, healing the dragon and infusing the wound with his own magic. However it would take a great deal of time for this magic to diffuse from Vardrache's body, hence the rune's continued glow on his chest. Moreover Vardrache still felt the strain his circuits had been put under from the initial attack. He couldn't tap into his draconic form at all, not even to partially shift. Some of his arcane magic was still accessible, and the natural strengths of being a dragon were still there.
But it would be some time before Vardrache could transform.
The healer then presented Vardrache with the sword of the leading hunter. As Vardrache had slain him, the humans deemed that the sword ought to belong to him. Vardrache had mixed feelings about the blade. Though it had been cleaned he still remembered the sight of it coated in the blood of his brethren. Now that he had the time to observe it properly he also noted that the blade was, at least in some part, forged from the body parts of dead dragons. Dragonbone and scales were on the blade's hilt and handle.
Vardrache wondered if he could destroy the blade that it may never harm a dragon again, but the human healer told him the blade itself was made of a powerful material. Nigh indestructible. It seemed Vardrache's best option was either to find some sea to toss it into, or simply hold onto it himself, ensuring it never slays an innocent again.
Eventually Vardrache met up with the surviving Unaragga, who had taken refuge in the human tribe. They spoke of resettling further north, so that humans may never find them again, but that option was not appealing to Vardrache. The human healer had told him that, unless he found a mage powerful enough to remove the magic from his body, it would be years before he could transform fully again. Vardrache did not want to be a burden to his people, stuck in human form, and instead stated a wish to travel and find a cure for his condition.
He had always wondered what the rest of Elibe might be like.
Stats:
Strength - 3
Durability - 2
Magic Power - 1
Combat: Once upon a time Vardrache prided himself on the raw prowess of his draconic form; he was physically strong, with deadly horns, fangs, claws, and also had a long, powerful tail. His sapphire scales were very tough, the average weapon or magic attack breaking, dissipating, or simply glancing off of them. Then of course, beyond all of that, was his ability to manipulate his own arcane magic. Breathing intense beams of silvery light that was frequent dubbed “Moonfire”, as well as enhancing his physical capabilities further with this same primordial force, Vardrache was very much feared by his enemies in rival tribes.
And while currently most of that is lost to Vardrache, he is still a force to be reckoned with. For one, while he cannot breathe his “Moonfire”, he can still manipulate his arcane magic to bolster his already impressive physical prowess. Given his overall lack of training with a sword, Vardrache does rely a fair bit on raw power to win battles in his human form. Vardrache has also been well versed in the hand-to-hand combat that his tribe practiced, as a form of self-defense if caught off guard in human form. It essentially focusing on disabling an opponent with crippling blows, aiming to break key bones such as ribs or joints. Savage but efficient, so that one using it can safely ward off an enemy before getting an opportunity to transform.
Vardrache also still has the instincts he has honed well over the years, being quick to react mid-battle and fully capable of adapting to new situations that may transpire over the course of a fight.
Then there is, of course, his sword. Taken from a powerful hunter that had been slaying members of his kin, forged with dragonbone and orichalcum, Vardrache has simply named the blade “Requiem”. A tribute to the dragons felled by the blade, and those slain to help create it. Despite it's morbid history Vardrache keeps the blade, as it is capable of channeling his arcane magic, as well as to insure that no innocent dragons are slain by it again.
Vardrache Unaragga, The Moondrake
