Post by Brutus on Sept 4, 2013 10:57:04 GMT -8
Name: Brutus Lungar
Age: 20
Class: Wyvern Rider (6)
Appearance: Brutus is still a young man, but he has the look of someone who knows his way about a blade. The mountains breed hardy folk, and Brute is no exception, with a strong lean body well suited for battle. He carries a scar on his face from an early failure of his, a straight gash on his lower cheek. He has a flowing leather cape that's tied around his neck and underneath his shoulder protector. He is lightly armored, with a coat and gauntlets with a layer of chain underneath. With shaggy black hair and a red headband, he has a youthful and energetic appearance.
Personality: Brutus is a boisterous, loud, and cheerful man. As opposed to what one may expect from a first glance, he loves to laugh and loves a good fight. He is energetic and driven, and stubborn to a fault. He's the kind of man who would grab another and pull them into a noogie, or jump right into a bar brawl. He loves to get involved in things that really isn't any of his business, be it bandits or monsters or a little girl losing her kitten. He sees himself as a sort of hero, or at least strives to be one. He has a soft spot for animals, especially 'ugly' ones that others don't like, like spiders or slugs or his wyvern Tarasque. He has a strong desire to get stronger, and is more then ready to do anything to achieve that. Outside of outright vile things naturally, but more gray area type things? Maybe. As such he is the kind of simple minded person that is easily manipulated by people smarter then him, which is quite a few as he is not exactly the smartest person around. He is filled with courage and vigor even when doing mundane and boring things, and will do even painful things with a sort of gusto that is admirable. While he has a very real sense of right and wrong, it gets muddied and confusing to tell the two apart sometimes. He has done some things he's not exactly proud of, and others that he's incredibly proud of, and where the line is drawn is sometimes kind of blurry. He's not always happy though, even if it feels that way, but saves these moments for when he's alone and has the time to brood. Quick to bounce back with bad joke and loud laughter when anyone catches him in one of these funks.
He however is almost characterized by one thing, his dislike of dragons. Dragons and all their kind. He honestly doesn't like Taguel much either, but puts up with their presence. He's very self minded, and believes that humanity should pull away. That humans don't need to be 'sheltered' or 'protected' by the other races, and finds them arrogant for assuming they're any better then humans simply because they live longer, or have natural abilities that they didn't even earn. Humans have to fight, train, scrap and scrounge, do everything they possibly can to get ahead, and the other races? They are BORN with the ability to fight and kill and excel, and then they have the audacity to think themselves better because of it. He believes in the betterment of humanity at any cost, and while he won't go out and kill children of the other races, he isn't going to help them either. Dragons however gain a special kind of disdain from him, and he harbors a secret desire to be rid of them. He believes humanity will never be able to be all that they can be as long as the dragons are around keeping them corralled and controlled like cattle. Of course such things are not to be said allowed, because many don't feel this way. When it comes to dragons, his cheerful disposition fades and he becomes serious, perhaps even disturbingly so.
Backstory: In the north-eastern edge of Elibe, among the snow covered mountains, there lived a peaceful village of people. To spite the snowy climate they resided in, the areas surrounding the mountains were filled with fertile farmland, fed by the runoff from the mountains. It was believed that the fertility of this valley was due in part to a family of dragons that had nested there for thousands of years. watching over the valley as their territory. These dragons were of a cruel sort, demanding tribute and offerings of the humans and caused great destruction if there demands were not met. These men and women were slaves to the dragons, nothing more then mere dogs in their eyes. It would be hard to confuse these dragons with guardians, for they cared not for the humans or their safety. The people gathered food, minerals, treasure, and sorts of things for these dragons and lived an perpetual poverty. Still this land was their homes, and they remained safe from the omnipresent threat of monsters, so they remained even though it was hard and painful. They did everything they possibly to meet these dragon's demands, providing for them everything they need to live and even more, for the repercussions were brutal and lasting. They thought nothing of killing the humans, even at a whim, even when they did everything they were demanded of, they would still slay humans. The snow white dragons were a symbol of death and oppression that no one could ever forget, and the violet dragon they took to the skies was an omen of misfortune.
It all changed one day. It all started with one boy, one angry boy. He took his father's bow, his father slain by these creatures for no reason, and waited. Every day he waited for that dragon, he waited for days, months, and finally one day the dragon returned. He shot the bow as it gorged itself on the cattle they worked so hard to raise, the arrow piercing the creature in the eye. The creature responded with great fury, his frigid breath killing not only the boy but many others. The creature rampaged like a wounded beast as the men and women took up arms, spears, torches, pitchforks, whatever they could get their hands on. These men and women could take no more, they were abused and tortured for the last time. They struggled and fought as swaths of men and women where frozen and killed with no remorse, and after a long grueling battle the creature laid dead. Finally the dragons would know the pain of their loss, they would learn that if they were to treat them so cruelly that they would fight back. That even these great dragons were mortal, and that they can die all the same.
That night... a shrill howl filled the air. It shook the very earth and mountains with its fury, it drove men and women from their homes unaware of what it was. What it was is a sign, a warning foretelling their death.
It was a massacre. A genocide. The neighboring villages were all destroyed, killed in a flash of white as their guardian brought icy death upon them all. Men, women, children, even babies sound asleep in their crib, no one was spared of their wrath. The dragons rampaged and destroyed, they smashed the homes and crushed the people who dared to hide inside. Their breath froze people alive, and then shattered them into a thousand tiny bloody chunks. Ice pierced their flesh like blades, rending anyone who was unfortunate enough to see these dragons asunder. It wasn't enough, they couldn't stop. They killed more and more, from village to village, and still they were not sated. For the loss of one life, they took the lives of hundreds. Thousands. To these monsters it wasn't enough, it would never be enough, and they would not rest until ever single human in the valley was dead.
The long night faded away and became dawn, and when it was all over, only a few villages remained. All that remained of the others was ruins and corpses. In this peaceful village, only one person survived. A small boy, who could do nothing but cry. His mother sacrificed her life to save him, sheltering his body from the icy death of the dragons who blood-lust would not be sated, her corpse covering him like a blanket of ice. There was no one left. His father, his friends, they were all gone, and all he could do was cry. Even when he though it was all over, there landed the ominous dragon with violet scales. This dragon. This dragon was the reason they all died. They all lived in peace in this valley before it was born. The boy tried to protect what remained of his mother, but the dragon did not care. The dragons never cared. It reached forward with it's deadly claws and... Nothing. The child could remember nothing as all became black.
When he awoke, he was in a village far from his home. This village was one of the few spared, and it had taken in the refugees that had happened to escape the hellish night. This boy was Brutus' great grandfather.
He had never meet the man, but his grandfather told him all about it. About the 'Frozen Night' and the dragons that oppressed this valley and all who lived in it. He grew up in this valley, surrounded by the stories of his cruel dragon overlords, no one could forget the death that happened in this valley, and no one could ever forgive the dragons for causing it. The icy white dragons of death, and the ominous violet dragon of misfortune. They still were forced to give the dragons tribute, far more then before as there was less people to gather it, and their wrath was always violent. Still, from time to time, they were spared. Perhaps the dragons had become merciful, or perhaps they understood how difficult it was for these humans to meet their wild and unrealistic demands, but it was never often enough. Brutus' father and mother were killed by the dragons that were supposed to protect them while he was yet a babe, and his grandfather was the one who had to raise him.
Brutus was resolved that one day he would save his home from these dragons. He would force them to leave, so that they could finally truly live in peace. He mastered the art of riding a wyvern, so he could chase them into the skies, and he learned the art of the lance so he could strike at their hearts. He needed to become stronger, so that he could slay these dragons, just like they slayed them. Maybe so that they can learn the pain of having everything taken away from them.
