Qaodin Aeflynsson
Dec 30, 2011 14:45:35 GMT -5
Post by Qaodin on Dec 30, 2011 14:45:35 GMT -5
Full Name: Quadin Aeflynsson
Other name: Qaodin, Qao
Race: Human
Side: Empire
Birthplace: Teirm
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Birthday: November 7th
Eyes: Bright Green
Hair: Dark brown, shaggy
Weight: 150 Ib.
Height: 5 foot seven
Magic User: Yes, Dragon Rider trainee for the Empire (Hopefully)
Preferred Weapon(s): One-handed sword, black in colors, with a clear jewel set into the pommel. It its named Fyrngarm (War Wolf)
Appearance: Gangly, but well built due to a childhood of dock work. Long shaggy brown hair covers his eyes, which are always focused, determined
Likes: Fighting a worthy opponent, winning
Dislikes: Irritable elders.
Strengths: Quick and nimble, he can avoid ,most any heavier, larger opponents.
Weakness: His sense of duty is often clouded by his personal desires. Allows anger to get the best of him
Family: His father, Aeflyn, an archer for the Empire.
His mother, deceased.
Not-So-Brief History: Born to a modest family in the glorious Empire, Qaodin's family had served the empire since the days of his great grandfather. The king gave his father work when there had been none, and a roof over their heads. Throughout his life he had always looked up to his father, an archer for the Empire, as a hero, a shining example of how a true man should act. His next hero was the King, who he saw as a shininh beacon who presided over the kingdom, shielding them from the horrors of the rebellious barbarians he had heard tell of. In an attempt to live up to his father's name, he took a job loading and unloading ships at the docks. It was hard, grueling work, and the pay was bad, but he felt accomplished after each miserable day. Throughout his entire life, he always felt as if he was missing something in his life. Like a piece of a mysterious puzzle he needed to solve. The thought depressed him, but the strenuous work he did daily helped cast it from his mind. For two years, little changed for him. His father was often away, on some campaign for the King, and his mother had passed into the void when he was young. Being alone did little to help the bitterness that begin to take root in the child's mind, which soon turned to hatred. But he hid it well, keeping his bitterness cloaked behind a mask of a playful youth. As time went by, and he continued to be alone, he became bored with dock work, and after awhile, he lost his job.
Convinced he could easily find another job, he went from shop to shop looking for employment, but to no avail. Desperate, he was on the verge of crawling back to his former employer and begging for his job yet. But it seems luck shined upon him that day, for only an hour later, he came across a weapons vendor who had just established himself in a old building by the docks. Intrigued, he entered the quiet little shop. The first thing to catch his eye was a one-handed long sword, left unguarded on a desk by the front window. He looked around carefully, before approaching the desk with caution, then tentatively extended his hand for the weapon, firmly curling his fingers around the hilt of the weapon, and lifting it off of the table to examine in the light. The appearance of a burly man caught him off guard, causing him to instinctively bring the blade to the man's throat, surprising them both. "Well, seems your either a novice swordsman in disguise, or a very gifted young man, either way, the swords 200 crowns, and its a steal at that." chuckled the older man. Qaodin flushed, lowering the sword as he muttered an apology. This began the happiest period of his life. The man introduced himself as Newlyn, a former weapons master for the Empire, this caught the youth's attention at once, and he bartered with the old man to gain a job, and the elder eventually agreed to hire the boy, and even tutor him in the art of combat. This pleased Qao to no end, he expected to master these skills right away. However, his tune changed to a more humble one soon after his first lesson, the many welts and bruises reminding him daily of his master's words, "Spend the time you would spend gloating becoming better at what your so proud of". He took that lesson to heart, and within months, he could best Newlyn in real combat. The victories were bittersweet however, for the old man's health began to decline soon after. At first Qao ignored it, thinking refusing to believe the old man was sick, but soon it became impossible to ignore. Newlyn stayed positive, but there was no denying his time was coming to a close. Resolved to make his friend's last days special, Qao would sit by his bed, regaling him with stories, some of times with his father and mother, and others from his own imagination. It was a cold winter morning, Newlyn had been particularly sick that week. Soon after he arrived at the man's home, he was bidden, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Tell me a story child..and please, don't stop til your finished.." The boy's eyes widened, and he wanted to refuse, but he couldn't deny the man his dying wishes, so he formed a story in his head, closing his eyes as he began.
Over the sound of the gentle breathing beside him, he spun a tale of a young warrior and his betrothed, desperately searching for a place where their love could blossom unimpeded. Even as the breathing beside him slowed to nothing, his eyes remained shut, calmly reciting the story as tears dripped down his face. Before opening his eyes, he spoke the final line of the story, "And the man and his new wife boarded the ship, sailing off across the sea in the failing light, reaching the horizon just as the sun set over the world.." He gazed upon the man, who was peaceful, seeming to enjoy his eternal rest, before the boy rose resting his hand upon the man's head before exiting.
They buried the old man just outside town, on a hill overlooking the ocean, and since he had no family, sold his home and belongings, and closed down his shop, selling the goods to other merchants and vendors, putting Qao out of work, and without a friend in the world. He swore to himself that he would never get close to another person again. Around this same time he began wandering the streets, turning to thievery to make money, which he became very at.
(This next section is only valid if his request for a dragon egg is approved)
As he wandered the streets a month or so after Newlyn's death, something happened, something that would alter his life forever..
A messenger of the King was in town, bidding all the children come to him. And it was that day, though a crowd a squirming children on his way to work, that he saw his future in a dark, veined egg placed upon a wooden table..
All other thoughts gone from his mind, he approached the table, as if entranced, pushing his way past the line of children and before anyone could stop him, he placed his hand upon the the egg's cool surface..
It hatched. Before he knew it, he had been told to pack up his belongings, and bid his father farewell. The man told him he and his partner would begin their training in the City of the King himself.
Added note: He is often haughty, and self absorbed.
Dragon Bio
Name: Zixun
Physical description: He is a large, heavily muscled black dragon, with scales that gleam like polished black pearls. Long, sharp black talons adorn the tip of each appendage. Heavy, sharp spikes trail down his head and spine to the tip of his tail. In shocking contrast with the rest of his body, his eyes are a bright maroon, like those of a Shade.
Personality: Hot tempered, quick to anger, and with a sharp tongue that has started more then its fair share of conflicts, he is cunning. Keeping secrets from all except his Rider, his true intentions are a mystery to all but him..
Strengths: A gifted fighter with a quick mind, he is able to turn most any situation to his advantage. He breaths a black, purple tinted fire (When he is old enough)
Weaknesses: Though he has large wings, and is quite the able flier, his flight is much slower then that of smaller, more nimble dragons.
Was their egg stolen or given to the character by the Varden/Empire or found in the wild?: It was given to him by the Empire.
Password: Witch of Teirm
Other name: Qaodin, Qao
Race: Human
Side: Empire
Birthplace: Teirm
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Birthday: November 7th
Eyes: Bright Green
Hair: Dark brown, shaggy
Weight: 150 Ib.
Height: 5 foot seven
Magic User: Yes, Dragon Rider trainee for the Empire (Hopefully)
Preferred Weapon(s): One-handed sword, black in colors, with a clear jewel set into the pommel. It its named Fyrngarm (War Wolf)
Appearance: Gangly, but well built due to a childhood of dock work. Long shaggy brown hair covers his eyes, which are always focused, determined
Likes: Fighting a worthy opponent, winning
Dislikes: Irritable elders.
Strengths: Quick and nimble, he can avoid ,most any heavier, larger opponents.
Weakness: His sense of duty is often clouded by his personal desires. Allows anger to get the best of him
Family: His father, Aeflyn, an archer for the Empire.
His mother, deceased.
Not-So-Brief History: Born to a modest family in the glorious Empire, Qaodin's family had served the empire since the days of his great grandfather. The king gave his father work when there had been none, and a roof over their heads. Throughout his life he had always looked up to his father, an archer for the Empire, as a hero, a shining example of how a true man should act. His next hero was the King, who he saw as a shininh beacon who presided over the kingdom, shielding them from the horrors of the rebellious barbarians he had heard tell of. In an attempt to live up to his father's name, he took a job loading and unloading ships at the docks. It was hard, grueling work, and the pay was bad, but he felt accomplished after each miserable day. Throughout his entire life, he always felt as if he was missing something in his life. Like a piece of a mysterious puzzle he needed to solve. The thought depressed him, but the strenuous work he did daily helped cast it from his mind. For two years, little changed for him. His father was often away, on some campaign for the King, and his mother had passed into the void when he was young. Being alone did little to help the bitterness that begin to take root in the child's mind, which soon turned to hatred. But he hid it well, keeping his bitterness cloaked behind a mask of a playful youth. As time went by, and he continued to be alone, he became bored with dock work, and after awhile, he lost his job.
Convinced he could easily find another job, he went from shop to shop looking for employment, but to no avail. Desperate, he was on the verge of crawling back to his former employer and begging for his job yet. But it seems luck shined upon him that day, for only an hour later, he came across a weapons vendor who had just established himself in a old building by the docks. Intrigued, he entered the quiet little shop. The first thing to catch his eye was a one-handed long sword, left unguarded on a desk by the front window. He looked around carefully, before approaching the desk with caution, then tentatively extended his hand for the weapon, firmly curling his fingers around the hilt of the weapon, and lifting it off of the table to examine in the light. The appearance of a burly man caught him off guard, causing him to instinctively bring the blade to the man's throat, surprising them both. "Well, seems your either a novice swordsman in disguise, or a very gifted young man, either way, the swords 200 crowns, and its a steal at that." chuckled the older man. Qaodin flushed, lowering the sword as he muttered an apology. This began the happiest period of his life. The man introduced himself as Newlyn, a former weapons master for the Empire, this caught the youth's attention at once, and he bartered with the old man to gain a job, and the elder eventually agreed to hire the boy, and even tutor him in the art of combat. This pleased Qao to no end, he expected to master these skills right away. However, his tune changed to a more humble one soon after his first lesson, the many welts and bruises reminding him daily of his master's words, "Spend the time you would spend gloating becoming better at what your so proud of". He took that lesson to heart, and within months, he could best Newlyn in real combat. The victories were bittersweet however, for the old man's health began to decline soon after. At first Qao ignored it, thinking refusing to believe the old man was sick, but soon it became impossible to ignore. Newlyn stayed positive, but there was no denying his time was coming to a close. Resolved to make his friend's last days special, Qao would sit by his bed, regaling him with stories, some of times with his father and mother, and others from his own imagination. It was a cold winter morning, Newlyn had been particularly sick that week. Soon after he arrived at the man's home, he was bidden, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Tell me a story child..and please, don't stop til your finished.." The boy's eyes widened, and he wanted to refuse, but he couldn't deny the man his dying wishes, so he formed a story in his head, closing his eyes as he began.
Over the sound of the gentle breathing beside him, he spun a tale of a young warrior and his betrothed, desperately searching for a place where their love could blossom unimpeded. Even as the breathing beside him slowed to nothing, his eyes remained shut, calmly reciting the story as tears dripped down his face. Before opening his eyes, he spoke the final line of the story, "And the man and his new wife boarded the ship, sailing off across the sea in the failing light, reaching the horizon just as the sun set over the world.." He gazed upon the man, who was peaceful, seeming to enjoy his eternal rest, before the boy rose resting his hand upon the man's head before exiting.
They buried the old man just outside town, on a hill overlooking the ocean, and since he had no family, sold his home and belongings, and closed down his shop, selling the goods to other merchants and vendors, putting Qao out of work, and without a friend in the world. He swore to himself that he would never get close to another person again. Around this same time he began wandering the streets, turning to thievery to make money, which he became very at.
(This next section is only valid if his request for a dragon egg is approved)
As he wandered the streets a month or so after Newlyn's death, something happened, something that would alter his life forever..
A messenger of the King was in town, bidding all the children come to him. And it was that day, though a crowd a squirming children on his way to work, that he saw his future in a dark, veined egg placed upon a wooden table..
All other thoughts gone from his mind, he approached the table, as if entranced, pushing his way past the line of children and before anyone could stop him, he placed his hand upon the the egg's cool surface..
It hatched. Before he knew it, he had been told to pack up his belongings, and bid his father farewell. The man told him he and his partner would begin their training in the City of the King himself.
Added note: He is often haughty, and self absorbed.
Dragon Bio
Name: Zixun
Physical description: He is a large, heavily muscled black dragon, with scales that gleam like polished black pearls. Long, sharp black talons adorn the tip of each appendage. Heavy, sharp spikes trail down his head and spine to the tip of his tail. In shocking contrast with the rest of his body, his eyes are a bright maroon, like those of a Shade.
Personality: Hot tempered, quick to anger, and with a sharp tongue that has started more then its fair share of conflicts, he is cunning. Keeping secrets from all except his Rider, his true intentions are a mystery to all but him..
Strengths: A gifted fighter with a quick mind, he is able to turn most any situation to his advantage. He breaths a black, purple tinted fire (When he is old enough)
Weaknesses: Though he has large wings, and is quite the able flier, his flight is much slower then that of smaller, more nimble dragons.
Was their egg stolen or given to the character by the Varden/Empire or found in the wild?: It was given to him by the Empire.
Password: Witch of Teirm
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