Rider applications are open! Info here!

[Rhaxta]

Now you can apply to have a character be part of training the new riders that come along in the next stage of the plot!

Just fill out the bio sheet below and reply to this thread if you wish to have one of the dragon eggs. Just state whether you want to have an egg at the top. Make that application nice and detailed, too.

Rider

Full Name:

Other name(s):

Race:

Side:

Birthplace:

Age:

Gender:

Birthday:

Eyes:

Hair:

Weight:

Height:

Magic User:

Preferred Weapon(s):

Appearance:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Strengths:

Weakness:

Family:


Not-So-Brief History:



Dragon Bio

Name:

Physical description:

Personality:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Was their egg stolen or given to the character by the Varden/Empire or found in the wild?:




ALSO!:

Reply to this with a link to your profile if you wish your character to be an instructor. Current riders only (unless you can be creative...), along with a small RP example of you teaching a lesson. Details don't matter, just give it a shot. Use any ol' NPC.

[Darren]

Levonla would like to teach

argetlamrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=char&action=display&thread=947

<<Sample>>

Leaping off Raziel’s back, Levonla spoke to the new rider and dragon he was training.

“You must speak very carefully in the Ancient Language!” he told them sternly, gesturing with Thieren.

‘To mispronounce a word or to use the wrong word in the sentence could do serious harm to you.’ boomed Raziel in their heads, ‘You must not cast spells in haste or in anger, the chance of you making a mistake is very high.’

“Yes sir.” replied Mel, his dragon nodding her green scaled head in agreement.

“Good.” Replied Levonla, “Today, we will learn your first spell. The word of fire.”

Wide-eyed, Mel and his dragon Zephyr looked closely as Levonla directed Thieren at a pile of leaves.

“Brisingr!”

There was a whoosh as the pile of leaves ignited, bursting into golden flames. With a snap of his fingers, the fire disappeared.

“Wow!” exclaimed Mel, eyes sparkling, “Can I try?”

‘Be warned, little one.’ Raziel spoke, ‘Without proper training, casting a spell could be very harmful to you. You could get killed if you use too much of you energy on one spell.’

‘Ebrithhil, is it possible for dragons to use magic in the form of speaking the Ancient Language?’ Zephyr inquired.

‘Not that I know of, Zephyr. Dragons can speak the Ancient Language but cannot use it to cast spells.’ replied Raziel.

“Dragons cannot cast spells as their magic comes and goes.” lectured Levonla.

“Understood, sir.” chorused Zephyr and Mel in unison.
“Good.” Levonla replied, “You are dismissed for today.”

[Asher Avindel]

argetlamrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=char&thread=885&page=1

"If that happens again, Galbatorix won't have to kill you. I'll do it myself!" growled the Elf, his eyes flaring angrily, as he gestured at the bright flames burning around him. At his gesture, the flames sizzled down as water sprang from the nearby stream and onto the fire.

"VOCALIZE your spells, or don't use magic," he continued, as he gestured again. The water fell to the ground, and the stream continued on its path.

"If any of you try too mentally cast your spells again while I'm teaching you, I will beat that out of you. Now, try again," he ordered, lowering himself to the rock he had been sitting on before the two students had set the area around him on fire.

The two students bowed their heads, before lifting their hands and pointing their silvered hands at the dummies he had set up.

"Brinsingr!" they each called. Asher bent away from the dummies as they exploded and burnt.

"Good! Now, try it without making them explode," he stated, his eyes narrowing slightly. He gestured to two more dummies, each set up right in the center of a circle of dead trees. "If those trees burn, I'll freeze you both in blocks of ice, and make your dragons thaw you out," he stated.

[Aisling]

argetlamrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=char&action=display&thread=879

Aisling would like to to teach!


Sample-
"Defending one's mind is an art and absolute necessity," Aisling said to her young pupil, her grey eyes looking at him with the upmost seriousness. "No matter what you are doing, it must be well guarded and honoured, for it is a sacred place."

The white haired elf sat down cross legged infront of her young pupil, and motioned for him to do the same. When he sat in front of her she pointed to his head, a smile on her face, "Everyone has something worth protecting, Issac, even a knuckle headed human like yourself. Eventually you will know secrets, and it is of the upmost importance that you guard them."

Aisling stared at the young boy, she already knew how weak his mental defenses were, she most certainly had her work cut out for her. "The first step of proper mental defense...and just about everything else I will teach you is concentration and focus."

She watched as Issac's eyes drifted, following the rear ends of some women walking by. The elf's eyes narrowed as she repeated louder, "CONCENTRATION AND FOCUS!!!"

She placed her hand on the earth and whispered, "Deloi."

The earth shook and trembled, sending the young rider into the air and fall, sprawling onto his rear-end hard. He let out a pain yowl, and looked at Aisling with anger.

Aisling just smiled with satisfaction at him and said again, sweetly, "The first step of proper mental defense...and just about everything else I will teach you is concentration and focus."

Issac stared at her wide eyed before sitting back down on his bruised tail bone. "Yes, Ebrithil," he muttered.

[Emily Drachen]

Is this open to Empire as well? XP Then Emily would. [though she hates kids............]

argetlamrpg.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=acptchar&action=display&thread=809

Sample:

"If you can't pronounce that spell, then don't use it, whelp." She growled, glaring at the young youth and bending down to look in his face. The child looked away, frowning. Emily could not, for the life of her, understand how this....child had become a Rider. Galbatorix would destroy him in a matter of seconds before he could even take his first flight.

Void...If I don't kill him, somebody will.

The dragon only grunted in reply, watching them with amusement.

The sandy-haired child looked away, frowning. Emily straightened and growled. The boy had been trying to cast a ward, but ended up causing roots to sprout and wrap around her legs to hold her in place.

Emily had no patience with children; she had had a tough upbringing in the Empire, and so would he.

She placed a hand on the boys head, turning it to face her.

"Lets try nature magic, then. You seem to have the knack for it." She muttered, sighing. The boy muttered something under his, causing Emily to glare at him sharply.

"Blaka aptr." She muttered, and the young was sent flying backwards towards a tree. Just before impact, Emily sighed, "Letta." She stated, stopping the youth from crashing into the tree.

"Hey!" The boy cried, growling as Emily held him there. Emily walked up to him, smiling.

"If you can't cast any proper magic without messing up the words or casting the wrong spell, then your as useless as a baby bird."

"Jierda onr kalfya!" The boy yelled. Though the wards protected her, Emily almost felt slight, sharp pain. Emily released the youth, grinning.

"Good. But...." She suddenly whacked him over the head, growling, "Be careful what spell you use, child! Some are more draining then others."

"Ye...Ebrithil." The boy muttered.

[Zilo]

Edit: Removing my application, So that there is enough eggs for people to have. Considering so many want some. I will resign this like i said. And maybe some how I can manage something later on.

[Kathena]

I want a dragon egg. And I am applying for a Varden egg.



Amanes Memorystalker
Amanes= beautiful heart

Other name(s): She is sometimes just called Memorystalker, or her close friends and family members call her Ama.

Race: Elven Rider

Side: The Varden

Birthplace: Ellesmera in Du Weldenvarden

Age: 114 years old

Gender: Female

Birthday: April 21st

Eyes: A bright, chocolate brown

Hair: A curly dark blond

Weight: 128 lb.

Height: 5' 6"

Magic User: Yes

Preferred Weapon(s): Amanes loves to use a sword in battle. She feels as if daggers are too small, bows take too much time to set up, spears you must go and fetch after you use, and staffs are just not worth using. A sword is the perfect weapon for every fight.

Her sword's known name is Arget Undir, which literally means "Silver Leaves". It's named because of the iron leaves carved into the silver handle of the sword. It has a silver blade too, with gold leaves running down the side of the blade. It's a pretty sword, that's one of the reasons Amanes likes it so much.

Appearance: Amanes looks like many other elves, but slightly different at the same time. She is quite slim, and she is rather tall as well. Her skin is a light peach, pale but flushed with color. Her bones are not thick, but thin and fragile. She walks in a graceful way, taking her time. Where ever she goes, she holds her head up high and always has a thin smile upon her rosy red lips. She usually looks confident and joyful.

Her cheek bones look like anyother elves' and her eyes are shaped perfectly. She eye brows are thin, and her lips and cheeks are a rosy red. Amanes's nose is slightly pointed, and her ears are pointed as well.

Memorystalker's eyes are a clam milky brown eyes are soothing, and gaze is filled with happiness, but the despair that she has left in the past left them sorrowful as well. When she rides on her dragon the sorrow just seems to disappear. They make her eyes glitter with joy. Amanes's eyes are an interesting sight, but they're beautiful anyway.

Her hair is a dark blond, almost dirty blond. It's curly, and it bounces up and down when she soars on her dragon. It's long enough to touch her lower shoulder blades, and it would probably go even long if it wasn't so curly. Even though it is a darker blond, it has pale blond hightlights in it.

Amanes's favorite thing to wear is a thick green blouse with a light green skirt. She also wears brown leather boots. We almost always keeps her sword sheathed at her side. She something like to wear her armor around, just for the fun of it.

Personality: Amanes is a kind elf with a good heart. Sher loves to try to help others feel better when they are down. Everything about her is joyful, except for her past. She has no idea what happened to her family, which makes her seem to be filled with sorrow even in her best mood. Her dragon, Nystia, cheers her up. Nystia knows nothing of her parents at all, and she doesn't really care either. It makes her mind more at peace. She hates war. There is nothing on earth that would make her want to kill, want to fight. The only upside of war is testing her swordsmanship. She loves to spar with the fellow Varden members in her free time. She's not have bad either, but Nystia jokes around, saying that Amanes is no match for her. She they spar too, it isn't nessesarily sparring, for the purple dragon uses her claws and teeth, but yet they find it a fun way to pass the time.

---Likes: Amanes is fond of many things, including dragons. She has always admired them and their gracefulness and strength. She also loves magic and swordsmanship because those are the weapons she uses in battle or sparring. She also likes the Varden, for that is the side in the war she choice, therefor she also adores freedom and friendship. She has always loved being in a group of elves as friends, and she enjoys loyalty. She also likes peace, and memories. Memories open new doors, and make your life specail and interesting. She thinks all creatures are great, but werecats are interesting to her, for her adopted sister was one.

---Dislikes: Amanes hates slavery, for it is a cruel thing one no should ever go through. That is also why she dislikes the Empire because of the horrid things they have done. She also doesn't like Urgals. She does not think they are that bad, but she is uncomforable with the idea of a creature that formerly to work for an enemy as an ally.

---Strengths: Amanes is very well trained in swordsmanship, for she had 114 years to train. She is also farely good at magic, although she can only do three spells all most perfectly. She also has intellegence and agility which can be useful at times.

---Weakness: Amanes thinks slowing, and that slow thinking can be a weakness in battle. Sometimes she hesitates before she strikes in battle, which can get her wounded. Memories of her past make her sorrowful, and it isn't something she prefers to remember. She has many other weakness as well, some including stumbling when she walks or bad blocking in swordsmanship.

Family:
Father: Larail the hunter (dead)
Mother: Azahel (life of tears)
Adopted family: Silis Korro - sister (Blackwalker)

Not-So-Brief History: As a young elf Amanes kept to herself. She preferred to stay home and help her mother out around the house. Azahel enjoyed her daughter spending time with her, but she got worried for Amanes. She was too unisociel. Amanes sent all her time doing this, until she was 14.

Amanes found a joy in reading for 13 year after that. She liked reading about magic and adventure. On her 13th year of loving to read she found out something quite strange about herself. She could do magic. So for 12 more years Amanes spent her time locked inside her room, practicing magic. She would borrow any scroll or book about the Ancient Language that she could get her hands on. But she couldn't learn much without a teacher. All she was able to learn and prefect "brisingr" and "druamr kopa". She loved druamr kopa. the only other person who knew that she could do magic was her mother, who she loved to contact from her room with the dream stare spell.

One day her mother who tired of Amanes staying in her room all day, so she talked her daughter to get some fresh air and she met five elves around her age. They had all known each other for awhile, but they were willing to except Amanes into their group. From then on she sent her days goofing off in the forest outside of Ellesmera with them. Their names were Anserae, Cyen, Dubuer, Shemus, and Verque. They all had unusually names, but they were all friends, good friends. They didn't do much in the forest. One of the things they did was gossip. About things that were happening in Ellesmera, and all the other cities in Du Weldenvarden. they would even gossip about things that happened all over Argetlam. Anserae and Dubuer were both male, but they seemed to enjoy gossiping most of all. Dubuer was close to the son of someone that knew the queen of the elves. They got most of their info from him. They also liked to dream and pretend. Dream about being different people, dream about living in other worlds. Ones with no magic, and ones with much more magic with their own. They pretended that they were humans, draves, urgals, dragons, werecats, Ra'zacs, anyone but themselves. They pretended they were part of the Empire or the Varden and had little battles againest themselves. She spent most of her life doing this. It was fasinating to Amanes, to dream and pretend to be something she never would. And one of the elves, Dubuer, could also preform magic. The other four of them watched as Dubuer taught Amnes some of the spell he knew. He knew many more then her, but she only remembers one of them to this day. The spell that helps you look into someone's mind. They worked on this one together the most. She enjoyed learning of other's pasts so much she was called Memorystalker. They were all very close, best friends. But after practicing magic with him, she began to have a crush on him. She spent years 39-111 with her friends in Ellesmera.

Then one morning Amanes woke up to find a black cat staring at her, its emerald green eyes priecing into her. She didn't know what to think of it, the young cat just stared and didn't move unless to follow her with its gaze. Then it turned into a human and Azahel explained she had found the werecat close to Kirtan that morning when she had gone into the woods for a walk. Amanes chose to stay home that day and get to know Silis. Silis Korro had a sad past, with a crazy father who died and a mother who had suffered from a terrible sickness. Silis seemed sorrowful after telling her story so the next day Amanes took Silis to meet her friends. All five of them adored Silis, and they loved having someone that wasn't a elf to hang out with.

A year later Azahel became very ill. Amanes and Silis planned to stay home instead of go and meet their friends in the woods. But Amanes's plans soon changed. Cyen came over to their house and begged Amanes to follow her, sawing there was something she had to try that only an elf or human could do. She didn't want to leave, but Azahel told her to go, but come back soon to see Silis and her again. Getting her mother's approval, she followed Cyen into the clearing in the forest that they usually hang out in. It turns out they had been talking about joining the Varden and wanted Amanes to join them. She was worried about Silis and Azahel, but her friends talked her into going with them. But Anserae didn't want to go. They had to leave him behind. It wasn't something they enjoyed either, but Anserque promised to look after their families. Bidding him a goodbye, they left heading toward the Empire and Surda.

They traveled for along time, because they didn't know really where they were going. When they finally got close to the Varden, some of the Empire's soldiers attacked them. Even though they all had training, it didn't help. It took awhile, but the soldiers killed Cyen, Shemus, Verque, and almost her. But Dubuer gave his life for her's. His last request was that she would run away. Amanes didn't know what to do, but follow his orders. She ran away from the soldiers until she didn't see anyone. She found a place to spend the night and waited there till morning. When morning finally came she left her shelter and went to find the Varden. It didn't take very long, but she was confused and tired. She spent a few days resting until she finally emerged from her tent. The Varden was starting the battle of Belatona. So she helped fight in that battle and she found Silis. They both fought for the Varden in the battle and afterwards they talked about what had happened since they were gone. Then they contacted Anserae and told him about the other dying, he wasn't very happy about it. Then they went for a walk around camp and over heard about the dragon eggs. Amanes was curious, although Silis was not so keen to figure out anything about them, so Amanes went to go investigate.

Dragon Bio

(This is what the dragon would be like when it hatched. It'll happen over time...)

Name: Nystia

Gender: Female

Birthplace: Outside of Belatona

Color: She has Bright Purple Scales

Eye: A Shimmering Yellow

Physical description: Nystia has beautiful purple scales. They shine brightly in the pretty sunlight, and even in the moonlight. The female dragon has spikes down her back, they are a dull biege, but they match her scales. She has light purple horns on the side of her head, and she adores. She has pretty bright yellow eyes that shimmer when she is excited or happy. Nystia has wide, leather wings and the leathery inside part of her wings are a dark violet. Her talons, or claws, are a silvery white and they are unusually sharp, just like her pearly white teeth.

Personality: Nystia is a caring and kind dragon who enjoys being Amanes's dragon. She likes to watch others hunt deer, although Amanes prefers not hunt. She eats meat, but she doesn't hunt. Nystia thinks this is a scatter brained idea. She doesn't like the idea of being forced to fight, she hates to be forced to do anything, but she dreams to fight the Empire. Although, she usually gets beaten when she plays with Amanes. She talks kinda burtal at times, but for the most part Nystia is like her rider, but without the sorrow. Her biggest wish is that she would one day be a grown dragon with Amanes at her side and have a mate. And the almost impossible part of her wish... To fly freely, without the Empire to stop her.

---Strengths: Nystia is intellegent and that can be very useful at times. She is also swift, and loves to try and race Amanes into her tent. Agility can be a great quality as well.

---Weaknesses: Nystia can be fatherly careless because being a hatchling Amanes takes care of her and for now she doesn't seem to have a care in all of the world. She can also be clumsy, for she stumbles around the tent just as Amanes sometimes does.

Was their egg stolen or given to the character by the Varden/Empire or found in the wild?: She was brought to the Varden as an egg and when Amanes went to take a look at her, and after going to she the egg a for a few days it hatched.

Egg History: Nystia was an egg of a slim silver female dragon about 250 years ago. Her father was a light green dragon, whose mother was purple like her egg. She never really wanted to chose a rider, so she stayed in her egg, not knowing about anything else going on outside of the egg shell that she was kept in. It seemed like she would never have gotten a Rider, and she was fine with that, but that would someday change...

Hatchling:


Young Adult/Adult:


Roleplay Sample[/size]
I'm going to roleplay the time Amanes and the four elves got attacked by the Empire soldiers...

"Amanes!" A shocked cry let out from the next hill. "Shemus, what's wrong?" The female elf called to her the short elf. Blinking slowly, she reached towards her sword. Shemus never cried out like that. She was the calm one, and if she ever frieked out something must be really wrong. "There are Empire soldiers coming towards, us... And they don't look very happy," The elf whimped from over the grassy green hill. What have we done wrong? Amanes asked herself curiously. They can't be wanting to hurt us. Can they? "We should join her," Verque muttered under her breath, her silver ax in hand. Verque was a queer, meaning strange, elf. She preferred to fight with an ax instead of a sword. Of course if you asked she would always say something like, "Well, you know, I think it's easier to swing". Even though it's twince as heavey as a sword. She also didn't talk to anyone unless to say they were doing something wrong. "Of course," Amanes whispered, flipping her hair. "Come on." Her green skirt swaying, she began to lead her armed friends down the hill, grass snapping under their feet as they went. s the four elves' eyes peeked over to Shemus, she had her dagger out and she was pointing just over the next hill, where a group of possibly 20 soldier loyal to Galbatorix marched towards them. "Ready your weapons, elves," Dubuer said in a hushed voice. "This might get ugly." At this Amanes, Cyen, Shemus, and Verque shifted their positions uncomfortably. "Oh, cut it out and pay attention. Amanes, you go talk to them," Dubuer ordered, earning an aquirred glance from Amanes. Amanes's chocolate eyes glared at the spellcaster angrily until she finally nodded, her dirty blond curls bouncing. The pale skinned elf gracefully walked over to the other hill and waited there for the soldiers. As the Empire warrior leaded his fellow soldiers, Amanes quickly stuck her sword in it's resting palce in her belt and smiled.

"Hello! WHat do you wish to talk to us for?" She asked, smiling sweetly and batting her eyes with innocence. The warrior glanced at her before snorting and saying, "Well, we saw your friend there," he said, pointing his finger towards Shemus. "We have come to tell you that you are on the Empire territory. Unless you elves wish to join us, you will have to leave strait away." Amanes widened her eyes and grinned. "Is that so? Well, we were just passing through so if you can please move to the side that would be lovely." She replied softly, but the soldier only yelled, "We don't want you coming anywhere near our cities! Warriors, kill them!" Pulling out his sword the human tried to strike Amanes on her forearm as the others raced towards her friends. Using her agility, Amanes quickly unsheathed her sword and blocked the blow, pointing at his mail shirt. "You have to be faster if you wish to hurt an elf. Brisingr!" She shouted smiling as the soldier yowled in pain and grabbed his mail shirt to stop the fire. "I'm very sorry about that." She teased, staring into his eyes. "Slash at me. Come on." The warrior grunted and swung his sword at Amanes's cheek. The elf quickly blocked his strike with her sword, but he lunged his sword over Amanes's and mildly cut her cheek. The dirty blond haired elf let out small squeak and quickly lunged forward, slicing the warrior in the stomach. She took this as a chance to look around, so she quickly glanced around her. About seven soldiers already lied dead on the floor. Only 13 more. She thought to herself, turning back to the soldier who had lifted his sword once more. Hearing, screams around her, Amanes just wanted to get this fight with the warrior over with. Staring into the soldiers eyes, diving into his mind and memories. "Oh, you don't really want to kill me do you? Really?" She asked him, looking at his shocked face. He looked pained. Lets get this over with. She thought sadly. "Awww, I'm so sorry that your wife left you. I'm sure she only feared that you would kill yourself. She probably just wanted to get it over with. but you know, you'll never see her again... Never."

"No."

"Never."

"No, no, no!" The soldier screeched staring off into the distance. Stepping towards him, her sword pointed at his heart. "I'll just end the pain..." Amanes whispered, stabbing the soldier where his heart is, a small tear dripping down her cut cheek. The salty tear stung the wound as she sniffed sadly. I now promise myself I will never fight like this again. She vowed to herself, her sorrowful eyes glancing around for another soldier to fight. Dubuer, Shemus, and Cyen seemed to be doing fine, each only fighting one soldier, but Verque wasn't so lucky. The strange elf was sweating heavily and blood spilled from wounds on her ribs, fore arms, and stomach. Oh, Verque, what have you done now? She asked herself rushing over to Verque and the two soldiers attacking her. Only five left... As she joined the fight with her friend and tried to slash at one of the warriors, she heard a whimper next to her. The two soldiers smirked and dashed over to Cyen and Shemus as Amanes looked down at Verque. She was lying on the ground, her ax sitting a few away from her. "My friend, what have you done?" A weak smile flashed upon the wounded elf's lips. Amanes glanced down at her neck to see a a deep cut in her throat. "Say good bye to Anserae for me..." Verque croaked as her eyes fluttered shut and her chest stopped moving. Amanes cried out in shock at her friends death and glared over at the others. There were only three other soldier left, the two that killed Verque and another, but only two of her friends were left. Dubuer and Cyen stood fighting, but Shemus was turned on her stomach, unmoving. "You three will pay for killing Shemus and Verque!" She yelled as she darted towards her friends and foes. Pointing at the soldier who sent the final blow to Verque and Amanes shouted, "Brisingr!" The soldier yelped and fell to the ground, burning. He didn't look like he would live, but he did one last thing. "If I can't live, neither will she!" he gasped, grabbing Cyen's shirt with his blazing glove. Cyen yell shouted through out the valley as the soldier died. Amanes stared at her with fear in her eyes, but Cyen just shook her head. "Don't worry. It only hurts... alot... Just keep going!" Cyen cried, pointing towards the soldiers. "But, you're going to die," Amanes whimpered. Suddenly, an eerie voice spoke from behind them, "I can stop the pain." A soldier, that somehow got beside Amanes, stabbed Cyen in the stomach. "A-mane-s," Cyen croaked, reaching towards Amanes before she fell to the grass, dead. The pale elf whirled around and growled at the soldier. "You-you fool!" She yelled, lunging forward at the warrior. He only grinned and blocked her attempt. "You fight hard, but say good bye." He said, his voice soft and gentle, but Amanes knew it was deadly. She tried to attack him again, but she was too slow. She gasped as pain exploded in her ribs and she fell onto her back. The soldier had sunk his sword into her side. Amanes shuttered as he withdrew his sword, pain filling her up like venom.

The soldier stood over her, grinning until the smile slowly vanished from his face. Suddenly, the soldier fell backwards and show Dubuer pulling his sword out of the warrior and into it's resting place. "No, Amanes!" He yelled as he dropped to his knees. Amanes manged a weak smile at the one she had a crush on and said, "You couldn't have done anything to save me." Dubuer looked at his friend with sorrow and picked up her sword out of her limp grasp. Putting it into it's home in her belt she replied, "No, but I can fix it." A horrid emotion appeared on Amanes's face as she shouted, "No you can't! You can still go to the Varden and fight for our deaths. You have your whole life ahead of you, and you don't have enough training to heal me without dying!" Dubuer smiled faintly and whispered, "Just close your eyes. You don't even have to watch." Obeying, Amanes shut her milky browne eyes, her skin even more pale then normal. She relaxed she opened her mouth to say good bye, but Dubuer stopped her by whispering, "I half to do this. I can't let someone I like die." Pain, and surprise raced through Amanes's mind. He liked her? He liked her?! All this time, she had secretly crushed on him, thinking he only thought of her as a friend when he liked her?! She was only about to open her eyes to stop him when she felt him inside her head. 'You like me too?' He asked, and sighed. 'I guess this was the best way I could ever die. After this is done, run. And remember, I love you, Amanes Memorystalker.' Suddenly, the wound on her side began to disappear and Dubuer's voice vanished. "No!" She shouted opening her eyes and glancing around franticly. She glanced at her side to see Dubuer's dead body, a small smile on his face. Emotional pain struck her like and sword and she cried out, tears pouring down her eyes. She grabbed his pale hand and closed her eyes sadly. I must run. She thought to herself. One of his last requests was for me to run. Standing up, Amanes beegan to walk away towards the Varden before she turned back to the valley and smiled. I will miss you all forever Cyen, Verque, Shemus, and Dubuer. You will be my friends forever. I don't think I will ever see Anserae again, for who knows what he has done to himself now, but I will find Silis and Azahel. I will tell Silis and we will fight for you four. My forever friends. I will miss you all. She thought, pretending to speak to her friends. As she began to stroll away, she thought, Oh, and I love you Dubuer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is when Amanes and her friends are practicing magic in the forest outside of Ellesmera.

A long log lay in the middle of a small clearing outside of Ellesmera. The tree were gigantic, and the flattened grass was covered in huge oak roots that were cattered around the clearing. A faint hit of sunlight peeked though the dark green oak leaves, shining down on the slim log below. The log was cover in rouge bark, and it was sitting infront of one of the roots. Four elves sat on it, three females and one male, and they seemed quit bored. The first was a strange elf, she had a weird rounded chin. She also had an ax lying next to her on the ground, and she was toying with it with her right hand. The girl elf sitting next to her had dark brown hair and had her legs crossed. She slowly yawned as she twirled her sleek brown hair. The other two elves were whispering to each other, and laughing every once and awhile.

"Are you four just going to sit there, or are you going to watch?" An male elf standing near by asked, annoyed. Sighing, all four of them turning their gaze to Dubuer, the elf standing. "Thank you," Dubuer said happily, whirling around to face the female elf behind him. "Are you ready, Amanes?" He asked her.
"Wait, which spell are we going over again?" Amanes asked, confused.
"Which ever one you want."
"And what am I going to use?"
"There's a patch of grass right there, a mirror over here, and you can use my mind as well. Or if you wish to spar Verque can help." Dubuer replied, pointed to the elf playing with the ax who grinned at the mention of her name.
"Got it."
"Uh huh."
Amanes glanced at the mirror and the patch of grass with her milky brown eyes until she kept her gaze fixed on the patch of grass right infront of Dubuer. The elf took a step back before nodding at his friend. Amanes pointed her right hand at the lush green grass before whispering, "Brisingr." Suddenly, the grass caught fire, and a tin orange flame flickered on the blades of grass. They friends let it burn for a moment before Dubuer lift his boot and stomped on the patch of grass. Amanes looked up at him happily and he managed a small smile.

"What next?" He asked leaning againest the tree root that the log was propped up againest. Amanes pondered on this for a moment before replying, "How about Dream Stare?" She asked looking into Dubuer eyes. Shrugging, he said, "Why not?"

Reaching down, he grabbed the mirror's handle and held it out to Amanes, who slowly took it from his hand and nodded to him in thanks. Staring at the mirror, she brought all of her focus to the silver and aluminum oval in the middle of the pale white wooden frame. "Druamr Kopa," she whispered, her expression unreadiable. She kept her mind focused on her mother, who would be washing the dishes by know.
Suddenly, the silver appearance of the mirror vanished and was replace by bubbles and the ceiling of her house. Then a surprised face appeared in the mirror and smiled at her.

"Hello, Amanes!" Azahel greeted her daughter happily. "What are you doing now?"
"Practicing magic with Dubuer," the female elf responded with a grin.
"Wonderful. Well, I must go darling. I have things I must get done."
Amanes nodded and whispered, "Good bye." Azahel smiled and waved before disappearing, and the mirror went back to its plan appearance.

"Good job," Dubuer interupted. "What now?" Amanes paused for a moment before replying,
"Can we just go back to talking?" She asked getting excited glances from the other four elves.
Dubuer sighed and managed a small smile. "Fine," he whispered.

Anything Else:
1. I'm sorry about the typos!

Password: [[Witch] [[of Teirm]]

[cicymyst]

I too would like to apply for a dragon egg. It would need to be a 'wild' egg, as it would be found in the wild. I'm very new to the site and this particular RP, so if this isn't what I think it is, please tell me.

Cicymyst the sagely

No other names

Half human, half elf

Varden (though not joined yet)

Appearance: wears layers of clothes. These include: a simple brown shirt, a cream colored cuffed and collared long sleeved shirt, a hauberk reaching mid arm and mid calf, and a deep blue tunic. Black lethrblaka leather armor sparsely offers fair protection from blows, and gives him a sleek, lethal look, although a laid-back smile usually adorns his face. Two small pouches adorn his simple black belt. On another two strips of leather is his ever present hand and a half sword ( google Strider's ranger sword and you'll het the idea) slung low on his hip in a simple scabbard. He wears knee length boots with scarred covers buckled over the top. Khaki colored pants balloon slightly before terminating into his boots. A small adventurer's backpack ( canvas sack covered in leather) is slung over his back and over his midnight blue cloak, which has the characters for strength and control in the ancient language stitched in green. His face is noble, yet simple. His hair grows forward, and is always very difficult to coax into shape. He was born olive skin that pales slightly in the winter. Lean muscles ripple beneath his armor. Generally alert and watchful when not reading or daydreaming.

Personality: Cicymyst has a bold, yet laid back personality. He tends to not worry too much about things, which can be troublesome when it comes to politics. He is fiercely loyal, extremely bold, and courageous to an extreme. He has an acute attention to detail that manifests itself in the way he thinks and works. When motivated he is sure to risk and/or loose life and limb to reach his goal. He can steel himself against almost any pain, and will willingly, almost eagerly sacrifice himself for the greater good. He is generally peaceable, and has some talent for mediating, although he is useless at diplomacy. He respects all life as if it were his own, and holds strictly to his own code of honor. He is quiet in unfamiliar company, and company who do not share his interests or beliefs, but is social with those who do. He tolerates much, and has yet to meet someone who crossed the line of his tolerance. He lives by his father's motto: "Love fighting, not killing."

Likes: combat, tactics, reading, sparring, listening to legends, problem solving, more fighting, justice, knowledge, learning, eating

Dislikes: Hunger, injustice, immorality, profanity (but is tolerant), not being able to let his energy out or read

Strengths: Combat, tactics, justice and morality, scholarly pursuits, improvisation, steadfastness, cunning, courage

Weaknesses: is sometimes on guard, sometimes not, occasionally gets too much adrenaline, and botches things, isn't good for any kind of talking (unless it's combat related) when experiencing an adrenaline rush

Family: Mother, Alina, out there somewhere. Father is dead.

Furnost is his hometown

17 years old

Male

April 5 (should've checked the calendar in use :S)

Chocolate brown eyes

Dark brown-black hair

153 lbs

Just over six feet

Only knows that he can use magic

Prefers a hand and a half sword, polearms, axes, daggers, or chains

History: Cicymyst was born in a rare human-elf marriage. His father pretended to adopt him, as the marriage was secret, and raised him as a young noble in Furnost for ten years. From age three he was taught in the arts of war, beginning his training in longsword combat and basic military tactics. Cicymyst took to it like a duck to water, excelling with glee and aplomb in every lesson his father, a veteran soldier and now a rewarded officer in the Empire, taught him. His mother, an elf spying for the Queen, taught him secularly, teaching him the written languages of all peoples in Alagaesia, all except the ancient language. He learned chivalry, and became a gentleman under both parents. The young family travelled much during their first ten years, visiting distant courts and going on snall- scale adventures. During these excursions Cicymyst began to notice injustice that he had been taught to revile growing rapidly in the Empire. Most blamed the Urgals and/or the Varden, but Cicymyst, with his intuitive nature, knew that the problem lied inside the Empire. Cicymyst matured much before he hit his growth spurts. He would need it before his world shattered.

The identity of Cicymyst's mother had been a well-kept secret for many years. Even the manor servants and advisors had known nothing of Alina's secret. And so it remained for ten years, the elf disguising her ears with magic. One day, on an excursion to Feinster, a shade named Durza raided the market with his henchmen. The shade destroyed all in his path, as all shades, specifically new ones like Durza, tend to. Alina unleashed a blast of magic at the shade, halting the furious crimson brigand and his band of brigands. Unfortunately, the shade recognized an elf wording in the spell, albeit a minor slipup. The young family quickly fled from curious eyes and possibly harmful investigators while the shade was bolted up in the strongest cell in the castle (the resident serial killer was quite peeved at being replaced as the most dangerous person in town). In a flash of inspiration, Durza blasted through the wall, fighting off the guards until he reached the gates of the city. He fled to Galbatorix, where he revealed Alina's identity. Cicymyst's home was attacked by sildiers within days. Cicymyst's father defended Alina as she fled through a secret passage with her son. Cicymyst's father was killed that day, and Alina was on the run.

The mother and son fled for a fortnight, going deeper into the Beor mountains. They finally reached Buragh, a dwarves city, where Alina found Falcrag, an old dwarven diplomat and hermit. The dwarf led them to a safehouse where a sma group of freedom fighters spying and infiltrating for the Varden sometimes met. The fighters were in meeting, huddled over a map when Alina and Cicymyst entered. Each greeted Alina warmly, clasping arms like old friends. Alina tearfully told her tale, and asked for a mentor for Cicymyst for his own safety, while she led the Empire away from the boy. Eberhardt Westy took up the job. An elegant, regal, and highly opinionated man, Eberhardt was an excellent swordsman and a highly respected scholar and diplomat, even though he was getting on in years. Having secured a future for her son, Alkna turned once more into the Beor night, bidding a tearful farewell to her son. That was the last Cicymyst heard of her.

The next five years passed quickly, filled with wonders as Eberhardt took Cicymyst on his travels, finishing the lad's martial education, and teaching about politics and science. Cicymyst's journeys with Eberhardt were many, and always included duels and fights and epic chases. This too, however was to end violently.

Being a spy and infiltrator was always risky business, and came with its risks. One day, Eberhardt's luck ran out. He had just finished probing the boy for magic capabilities, and had come back positive, when he unconsciously let his ring fall. This included a tiny Varden crest on the inside if the ring. The innkeeper found it after the duo had left, and turned it in for a reward, not thinking anything of it. The guard found the crest on inspection and laid in wait for the owner. Eberhardt did return for his ring, and had to kill the guard, causing an uproar that ended with Cicymyst and Eberhardt hiding in some bushes outside Dras Leona. The soldiers, led by Durza, searched the bushes, looking for the two fugitives. They found Eberhardt, shooting him through the collarbone on sight. With his dying breath, Eberhardt cast a spell that hid Cicymyst from the eyes of the Empire. Durza cursed and shouted a death threat at Cicymyst so vile that I cant repeat it here. Cicymyst had seen enough of this foolery. He had seen enough pain and injustice from Galbatorix's reign. At that moment he knew that he would forever oppose that tyrant, even if it cost him his life.

Anything extra: I have mapped out Cicymyst's armor and jewelry from online stores, so if it helps I'll post links to relevant pages (for some reason I can't paste pictures). Cicymyst has a ring from Eberhardt that is shaped like an owl's face and has two amethysts for eyes chalk full of energy. He also has a pendant that helps him to clear his mind and is useful for repelling mind attacks.

Dragon Data

Name: Barakka

Age: one year

Physical description: purple snake-like scales that glitter like snow adorn his lean, lithe form. He is just slightly smaller than average, and very speedy and maneuverable in the air. His fangs are slightly pronounced, and his eyes are the same purple as his scales.

Hatch location: the western outskirts of Du Weldenvarden, closeish to Cenuon

Personality: A perfect compliment to Cicymyst. Laid back likehis rider, and passionate about combat and flying. A wise and just dragon who tends to view the cup half empty. Prone to a day of melancholic sulking once every three months. Tends to show off a bit much and needs Cicymyst's cautious mind to keep him out of too much trouble.

All right. All done. Sorry if it's not perfectly in order :S

Edit
If you want a bit of sample RPing, I've got nothing better to do:

This would be how Cicymyst finds his egg, if he's allowed to have one.

Cicymyst sat back in his chair in the corner of the tavern. His helmet laid on the table in front of him, along with a tankard of Apple Fizz, his sword (which he was cleaning yet again with vigor), and a small book. He sighed, setting his sword down and taking up his tankard. 'nothin going on around Cenuon, that's for sure.' he thought gloomily. No companion shared his table, or his long and ardrous quest. This past year he had been searching for the Varden and his mother. No luck so far for either, but several leads on both. Cenuon had made sense, as its proximity to Du Waldenvarden seemed an opportune place to find a fugitive elf seeking refuge. The tavern was a dark, smelly place, and the food was terrible. The company was rather rascally, and the innkeeper/bartender was surly and hulking for a reason. The only upside, indeed, the only reason Cicymyst was there, was the fact that this particular tavern was known for its divine fizzes, a drink brewed with magic and air. Cicymyst grained as he stood, sheathing his sword and replacing his book inside his backpack. He tossed a couple small coins onto the table, and began to take his long strides toward the door. He drew several dark glances from the ruffian lowlife who laughed bawdily at their games of dice and darts. He neared the door when two lanky, rougish men sidled up to the traveller. One had a stubbly pale beard and hair, the other had long dreadlocks and one eye. Both were armed with poniards, messers, and bucklers.
"so" puffed the bearded man, "I hear yah're new in town."
"You heard right." Cicymyst replied in his deep voice, lowering his hooded face so as to stare the thieves down his nose. "If you come to ask me my business, I'm afraid that I cannot tell you, on pain of death."
"not even a whisper?" the dreadlocked man asked,
"not one"

This seemed to anger the whole tavern.
"all who come here must state their business, or else." said one scruffy varmint, brandishing his falchion.
"yeah!"cried the ruffians, eager for a fight. Blades were drawn across the tavern, and Cicymyst's silver blade was no exception, being out in a blink of an eye. Cicymyst stared the ruffians down, locking himself into his fighting stance. He did not move, even his eyes were still. Nobody moved for a moment, but then a huge man with a battle axe charged Cicymyst with a huge overhead swing. Cicymyst deflected the blow deftly, turning the block into a swing, lodging the blade deep into the man's right shoulder. The brute howled in pain and swung again, horizontally this time. Cicymyst leapt toward the beast, too close for the axe to do any harm, and beat him with the pommel of his sword. The blow landed soundly, dropping the giant with a thud. The too
was silent as Cicymyst slowly backed out of the tavern.

Later that night, as Cicymyst was searching for a suitable inn, a unit of soldiers spotted him.
"It's him!" one cried, "Durza wants him alive!"
That was all Cicymyst needed to draw his sword and dash off headlong into the night. After a long hour of dashing through Cenuon The guards cornered him in an alley, pikes jabbing. Suddenly, with a blast of gold light, the soldiers screamed... And were gone. At the mouth of the alley stood an old woman. She reminded Cicymyst of his mother, the way she smiled with her teeth, and the way she stood all reminded him of her. Cicymyst raised his sword as the old lady approached him.
"no need for hostilities, young man." she said as she waved Cicymyst's sword away with magic. "If I had wanted to kill you, then the soldier would be leading you off to Uru Baen or Dras Leona by now. No, I have seen your future, and I know that you are destined for greatness. Just remember that once done, the bone's white you will shun." Cicymyst was taken aback.
"What inthe name of Wyrda does-" Cicymyst never finished his sentence. The woman threw up her cloak, chanting arcane words of power. With a ruffle of the cloak the woman was gone. In her place was a small parchment with a strange word on it, and the smell of fresh pine needles. 'how occult' thought Cicymyst to himself. He read the word aloud three times. "Risa Shurturgal Mathinae!" the third time produced an odd result. A buzz unbearably loud penetrated his skull. 'great' he thought miserably as he fled the city, 'she's given me the plague.' Cicymyst ran out of Cenuon eastward, leaving the starkly sky behind as he was led as if by a supreme leash. The buzz slowly faded as Cicymyst exhaustedly stumbled deeper into Du Waldenvarden. He finally arrived in a clearing, and the buzzing stopped. Cicymyst rested for an hour, recovering from his forced sprint. When he finally got his strength back, he began walking back the way he came. He soon found that an invisible force, along with the renewed buzz, forced him back to the clearing. Cicymyst was utterly confused, so he laid down on a smooth patch of grass , pulled his blanket from his pack, and slept until dawn.

In the morning, Cicymyst investigated the clearing. He found a bubbling stream, and refilled the bottles from one of his belt pouches. He snooper about some more, and quickly found what appeared to be a giant amethyst. It was about one and a half feet across, slightly ovoid, and had deeper purple veins slithering along seemingly haphazardly about its exterior. It sounded hollow too. Shrugging, Cicymyst placed the gem into his pack. As he tried once more to exit the clearing, he found the old lady blocking his way.
"why did you send me here?" he shouted, drawing his sword.
The old lady rolled her eyes and magically disarmed the young man. "I knew not where you were bound, boy." she croaked. "I only k ew that you and such a stone were destined to be one." with this she cackled, throwing her head back. "yes," she grinned, " you shall do great things together."
Cicymyst was puzzled. What? Him do what? With this stone? No way. " well," he began, "if you've seen my future, what next?"
The old lady smiled. "Why, I have foreseen you joining the Varden, boy!"
"Where are they?!" Cicymyst asked eagerly.
"I can only tell you that they hide near your old home. To gain further insight, you must stay in this clearing for one more day and night. Farewell, Cicymyst. May your sword stay sharp, shurturgal." with this she cackled and disappeared in the same manner as before. 'odd' thought cicymyst as he began to build a fire.

That night Cicymyst woke to hear an earsplitting crack. He jumped awake, sword in hand. After scanning his surroundings and funding nothing amiss, he laid back down and curled up next to the fire. 'I guess trees that fall in the forest really do make noise.' he thought to himself in amusement. he then woke up later to hear an odd squealing. He snooped about for the source, and found it coming from his pack. He unlaced the now bulging and squirming canvas. Before he could see what was inside, however, he touched it. He jumped back with a burning feeling in hisleft palm. The skin was glowing! Cicymyst grabbe his sword and carefully upended his sack. The fabric turned inside out, reavealing a squirming and very entangled purple baby dragon. As soon as it saw Cicymyst the little monstrosity stopped thrashing, looking up at the lad wih its large purple eyes. It seemed to smile, and Cicymyst found he heard a deep thrum like a base drum beat echo in the back of his mind. Cicymyst lowered his sword and helped the hopelessly entangled dragon free itself from his pack. He cooed his hellos and introduction to it. A dragon Rider! Him? Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this happening. Not in a million years. Yes, he had daydreamed about it, diddly wanted it to happen, but never was there any chance of him becoming a legend this way. A grin slowly spread across his face as it sunk in: Cicymyst he dragon rider!

[Qaodin]

Heres my application, I would like an Empire egg, if you need a example or anything please ask PM me

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

[renyriroden]

I am applying for her to have a dragon egg given for the Varden.


Full Name: Renyr Iroden

Other name(s): Renyr Ironwilled

Race: Human

Side: Varden

Birthplace: Belatona

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Birthday: August 13

Eyes: Dark brown

Hair: She has long, pin-straight, black hair that match her eyes.

Weight: 138

Height: 5'5"

Magic User: Yes

Preferred Weapon(s): She feels most comfortable wielding her sword. She has not the speed of an elf, so she must resort to her strength and cunning rather than a bow or axe, and she has always grown up being trained in swordsmanship.

Her sword was handed down to her by her father before her family was separated. It was made of iron fortified by magic, that was light enough for her to handle in battle despite its size. The handle was of sturdy oak, also fortified with a magic that keeps it from splintering or breaking, engraved with a crescent moon, her family's crest. The name given was Zatara.

Appearance: The first obvious attribute is that she is of shorter stature, being only 5'5". She had long black hair that sweeps behind
her as she walks. She has a slender body type, but well hidden are the muscles she developed aiding her father on their small farm and sparring with her slightly older twin. At first appearance, her eyes are a plain brown, but at closer inspection, they give a glimpse into her fierce personality. But to look even farther, one would see her longing and despair to find her family and to fight those who had killed and enslaved so many of her friends. She has a sharp jaw line, and a set of small, pink lips that hide a full set of teeth.

Hidden by tunics and dresses with long sleeves, her right arm is covered in blotches of scars from a burn, acquired when she returned to her village after it was pillaged by the Empire's soldiers.

Likes: She likes writing, riding horses, sparring (as she used to often with her brother), the Varden, learning of the dragons and riders of old, and though she has yet to see one, she has always been entranced and awed by the dragons.

Dislikes: The Empire, for separating her family and destroying her home, cowards, Raz'ac/Lethrblaka.

Strengths: Tolerance, mental and physical toughness, loyalty.

Weakness: She is impatient, short tempered, and ignorant because of her age.

Family:
Father - Jimorda
Mother - Lloriana
Twin brother - Zaynith
All have found refuge in Teirm after their home was attacked, but Renyr is unaware of their whereabouts.


Not-So-Brief History: Born in the late summer, in the city of Belatona, her parents were surprised and blessed with twins, a son and a daughter. They knew a city crawling with the Empire's soldiers was no place to raise their children so only a few weeks after her birth, in the dark of night, her parents fled to a village outside Feinster, near the mountains, hoping they would someday be able to reach the city of Eoam on the secluded island of Beirland.

But soon enough, her parents found their small village charming, and as years passed it seemed that their new home was well hidden enough that none of Galbatorix's soldiers would soon discover them. Throughout her years, her father taught her and her brother of the art of the sword, how to defend themselves, how to ride and of the ancient dragons and Riders.

Her mother, taught them of which plants in the wild, could be used for healing and eating, and which deemed poisonous and deadly to humans.

She often filled her days riding along the fields near their home or close to the mountains that overlooked their cluster of houses. She felt it was the closest she could get to flying, a sensation she could only dream of knowing of how rare it would be for a dragon to ever hatch for her and once more for her to even encounter one was a stretch. Still she never ceased to dream of the large, magnificent creatures.

One day, at only 15 years, as she was riding near the southern most portion of the Spine, in horror she saw black smoke rising from the homes where she had grown up. Knowing it was too dangerous, she remained hidden in the mountains where too few found the courage to venture, in despair as she watched the destruction of her home.

She waited till it seemed everything was still before she dared to return, and she wept when she saw there was nothing left. Walking through the ashes of her home she saw no trace of anyone or anything. In disbelief, she was stricken. She could not move, even at the creaking of the wood above her, she was still. She was alone.

All at once, everything came crashing down that still stood, she turned to flee, but a pillar that supported the second story of her house collapsed, pinning her right arm underneath its still smoldering weight. Fortunately after some time she was finally able to push the beam off her arm, but not before leaving it with a burn that nearly destroyed her arm.

So she fled, as riding as fast as she could by day and resting at night, she traveled along the northern border of Surda, sustaining herself on plants her mother had showed her were safe to eat.

Exhausted to the point of fainting, and at a state of malnutrition, she was found and cared for by a number of Varden's scouts east of Petrovoya. Bringing her back to the Varden's camp, she swore fealty to their cause, hoping that she could be use to them and that someday she could ask for help to find her lost family.

As two years passed, she grew stronger and wiser as she was taught of the fall of the Riders, more of Galbatorix's evil and his doings among the realm, and how dragon eggs were found. Excited that she might finally to join the fighting, she prepares to join the march against the evil king.

Anything extra: I was hoping that she could become a dragon rider for one of the eggs once they hatch since I saw that it was developing that way in the plot. But only if you deem her fit too.

Dragon Bio

Name: Jakarta

Physical description: His scales are a bright orange, with gold covering the webbing in his wings, his belly is an deeper orange color and his eyes are a orange as bright as a flame. His talons and neck spikes are of a brilliant white to match his fangs.

Personality: Nearly an opposite to his rider, he is quite calm, but has the same fierceness and toughness as Renyr. He is very overprotective of Renyr and his attitude as well as fighting style compliment hers in a way that no other could imagine. Being a young male, he's excited of the idea of fighting, but not of having to kill. His desire to fight is driven by his desire to protect his rider. 

Strengths: He has great speed and strength,  and is quite calm. He is loyal and tough and will never give up without a fight.

Weaknesses: He is still a bit ignorant because of his age, and in the midst of anger or fighting, he can have a one tracked mind and overzealous.

Was their egg stolen or given to the character by the Varden/Empire or found in the wild?: He arrived in the Varden and that's where he hatched for

Role play sample; the destruction of Renyr's home

Renyr paused a moment from adjusting the leather straps of the worn saddle to take in the scenery of the cool morning. A thin fog hung over the valley, leaving her with an ominous, uneasy feeling. She knew most days around here began in such a way, but today seemed different; it was too quiet...too still.
The big bay gelding tossed his head impatiently and gave her a nudge with his large muzzle, urging her to get back to the task at hand.

Alright alright, I'm going! She replied giving him a stiff pat on the neck while she finished preparing him for their ride to come.

She struggled to climb up his side as he was much bigger than most horses. As she settled in the saddle, his muscled quivered underneath his dark brown pelt, and she fought to shake that feeling of uneasiness as she gathered the reins in her hand. She eyed the sheath that contained her father's sword, and caught s glimpse of the hilt, making sure she had it on her person in any case of emergency. The charger pawed the ground anxiously, causing a wide smile to spread across Renyr's face.

Okay, let's go! And with that she gave him some rein, and he took off in a brisk canter.

The wind whipped her face, and she could hear the howling in her ears. Almost immediately, her worries and fears disappeared as she felt like nothing could touch her. She felt invincible. She urged him to go faster,  as she leaned forward over his neck, giving him more rein and he exploded into a gallop. Nearly crying as the wind stung her eyes, all she could hear was the sound of hooves pounding over the ground, and sharp breaths of the gelding. She felt like a hawk, or even a dragon, as the two of them glided effortlessly over the ground.
As they traveled up the Spine, a faint, but odd smell and as she slowed the bay to a trot she quickly snapped her head back and forth searching for the source of her suspicions. In disbelief, she turned to see from her village, only a few miles away, black smoke rose and disappeared into a thickening fog. A knot formed in her stomach as thoughts flooded her mind. There was nothing normal about that view, that smoke was not from the chimneys.
The gelding fought for the bit, he didn't understand why they were stopped so long, but she refused to him. What could she do? What had become of her family? If she were to return, she would only put herself in danger for there is no way a girl of her age could defend herself, but she couldn't just watch.
So she waited what seemed like hours until it seemed like all was safe for her return. Cautiously she urged her steed into a canter, traveling back down the mountains hoping to avoid any suspicion in case any had lingered in the village.
The slowed to a brisk walk as she rode behind the main row of houses. The same stillness she had felt that morning had returned, fear gripped hold of her as the only sound was the burning and crackling of wood. And all of a sudden it became obvious. No building was spared. Some had collapsed to a burning heap, other stood, small flames still emitting from the charred oak. A mixture of smoke and death filled her lungs and she coughed and covered her nose in order to keep from being sick. Tears stung her eyes and she quickly averted her eyes from the sprawled lifeless bodies of her neighbors that lay in the streets.

Galbatorix's soldiers. There is no way the Varden would attack an unarmed, peaceful town such as their own!

Anger and grief welled up inside her as she angled the charger toward her own home. She hoped it wasn't so, but the same fate had awaited her own home. Still standing, but blackened and still smoldering, her home was abandoned. She dismounted as quickly as possible and cautiously entered the remains of the building, it was dangerous, but she had to see for herself.
There was nothing left. She was stricken, stuck in place as if time was still. If there was any silver lining, it was that her family was nowhere to be found, the stables were empty which means they could have escaped before the destruction.

What am I supposed to do now?

A creaking and moaning of wood broke her from her trance, and her world seemed to tumble down around her. She tried to run, but a burning pillar caught her in her tracks and pinned her right arm below. She cried out in pain as the heat and fire disintegrated the arm of her tunic and singed her arm. What seemed like minutes of agonizing pain passed before she was able to pry her arm loose. She stumbled to get up and rushed outside as her right arm hung limply at her side. Clamoring up her gelding, she wheeled him east, towards the border of Surda, pain shooting through her muscles and skin.

I cannot stay... my only hope to find my family is to find the Varden.

And with that she urged the charger as fast as his legs could carry them, hoping to find refuge in the infamous rebel army.

Password: Witch of Teirm

[Zilo]

In case you miss this Rhaxta. I posted above what I am doing.

[Rhaxta]

Good thing you posted that I would have missed it. You can apply if you wish Zilo; there may not be many eggs after this. This board is being sorted through when applications close (basically when we have enough).
Then eggs are given out to the best-thought-out characters, best story/writing ability..the best applications, basically. So try your hand; you won't be 'pushing' anyone out. It is mostly to test who would make the best out of a rider charrie. x]

[Zilo]

Lol naa its fine Rhaxta... If i did that i would feel as if i took someones chance if i did get one. So better to not get involved with it at all.

[cicymyst]

Mehe. Seems the Empire's a bit short on new gen riders Yay Varden!

[Merril]

I am applying for an egg as a rider for the Elves and the Varden.

Full Name: Merril

Other name: Adurna Eld Moi (Water Shifter)

Race: Elf

Side: Varden (Elves, really)

Birthplace: Old Ilirea

Age: 154

Gender: Female

Birthday: First day of Summer

Eyes: Blue-green

Hair: Blonde

Weight: 130

Height: 5’8

Magic User: Yes

Preferred Weapon(s): Merril utilizes a long-bow that she sung from a tree nearly 100 years ago. It is crafted from Ironwood, and gilded with leaf patterns. She carries arrows with ashen shafts and fired-wood points, sung to be as hard as steel. These arrows are fletched with the feathers of crows, in a Hane style. A single long-knife with Elven runes etched on the brown handle and blade. When unarmed, Merril utilizes a soft martial art revolving around joint-locks, incapacitating chokes and throws.

Personality:
Merril is a relatively young elf, and still retains some of the youthful qualities of a child. She is willful and more subject to whim than most Elves of her age. She is curious and energetic, and loves conversing with others and learning new things.
Generally cheerful, Merril never stays in a bad mood for very long, and even her worst moods are less extreme than most. Like most Elves, she is much attuned to the powers of nature. She is wont to playing and frolicking. Merril is quick to love, and slow to anger, and always seeks to be benevolent; to better her character.
Under her vibrant exterior, however, lies nearly 150 years of knowledge. Merril has a sharp and clever mind that is roguishly suited for magic. She rarely finds cause to use brute force, as she is adept at finding elegant and clever solutions.

Appearance:


Merril, like most elves, has a light frame and fair features. She is possessed of blonde hair that falls below her shoulders, which she generally lets fall in natural curly locks. Merril’s eyes can be blue or green depending on the light, but generally appear as a mixture of the two, the color of a deep river.
Merril moves with the grace that is characteristic of her kin. Her arms and legs are muscular but relatively thin when compared to humans. She generally wears very light clothing that does not restrict her motion whilst running or swimming. Merril has a set of gills behind her pointed Elven ears.

Likes: Water, Swimming, Archery, Singing, Warm weather, Interacting with others, The Forest, Poetry

Dislikes: When her skin is dry, When people are not knowledgeable of magic, Being cold, Sweet foods, When organisms die.

Strengths: Accomplished Spellweaver, Archery, Swimming, Powerful Mind, Creativity, Roguish combat style.

Weakness: Disobedience, Curiosity, Impatience, physically weak when compared to other elves and riders.

Family:
Murael (Mother, aged 400 some years)
Luindal (Father, aged 400 some years)
Maraneth (Brother, deceased)

Not-So-Brief History:

Born in Old Ilirea merely fifty years or so before the war, Merril had a tumultuous childhood. The daughter of Murael, an experienced and talented smith, and Luindal, a soldier, many of Merril’s early years were spent preparing for war. She spent much of her time with her mother, learning the art of crafting through singing. During her childhood, Merril stood out from the other Elven children in Ilirea.

As the years passed, Merril was slow to lose the magical sheen of her childhood, retaining it an unnaturally long time. As such, Merril was extremely skilled in magic during her formative years, and learned to manipulate the energies around her in strange and wonderful ways. As most Elven children are valued highly, Merril was looked upon as a prodigy and a joyous rarity. However, fate deigned that the end of Merril’s childhood should coincide with one of the most devastatingly somber moments in history.

Merril and her entire family were present at the sacking of Ilirea by the Foresworn under Galbatorix, more than 100 years ago. As a family, Murael, Luindal, Maraneth, and Merril joined the forces in repelling the Foresworn, but as history has recorded, the fight went poorly for the Elves and Riders in Ilirea. Clinging to the shroud of youth and power that surrounded her, Merril fought bravely once the Elves began their final push and ultimate attempt to escape the city. However, the unit was apprehended by one of the Foresworn riders.

Maraneth, considered the most talented warrior of the group, was at the time aged 268 years. He and Luindal advanced bravely to defend their friends and family, but Maraneth was swept away and crushed by the now nameless dragon’s tail. Merril wept for the loss of her brother, and with most of her remaining strength, managed to hold off the Foresworn rider for nearly 3 minutes until the merciful intervention of a rider. The distraction allowed Merril and her family to evade the enemy for long enough to escape the city.

They fled to far-off Silthrim, where they mourned the loss of Maraneth, their friends, and their home. The memories of Elf-kind are long, and Merril knew that she would not soon forget the events that had taken her innocence away, though the Elves as a whole made their most earnest attempt to allow life to return to normal. Merril continued her martial training, as well as her training in magic. As most Elves do, she learned to use the sword, the bow, and the spear.

Merril continued to excel at smithing, though she soon lost interest in it. Forresting and Ranging took her fancy, and she became an explorer of sorts, spending much of her time in Ardwen Lake, finding it suitable to augment herself with gills. Her skills translated nicely into scouting for the Elves and ultimately the Varden after its founding.

It was during this time as a scout that Merril truly came into her own. Her time was spent monitoring the aquatic movements of the Empire, mostly shipping routes coming through Gil’ead. In these twenty years or so Merril accumulated her practical skill in battle and with subterfuge. Though her station did not allow for true renown in the fullest sense of the word, she gained a reputation as a reliable operator and source for the Varden’s cause (Not to mention the rumors of mermaids in the Isentar). Very rarely did Merril encounter enemy magic users, but she has come out on top of every wizard’s duel she has ever been in. She has become particularly adept at casting illusions and teleporting objects.

More recently, Merril has worked as a forward scout for the Varden’s advancing army. Now, more than ever, her skills have been put to the test against the forces of the Empire. She is still hopeful that the Varden will succeed, and that she will be able to return to her home of Silthrim, having helped undo the traitor Galbatorix.

Anything extra: Merril nearly always has magical wards placed around her to protect herself from the dangers of espionage. She wears two rings, one which she has poured magical power into for nearly 50 years, and one which prevents her from being viewed through magical means. Both are silver with aquamarine settings, and only she seems to be able to tell the difference between them.

Password: Witch of Teirm

Dragon Bio

Name: Jormungandr (YOR-mun-gan-dur)

Physical description:
Jormungandr is a murky bronze dragon, though when the sunlight strikes him directly he is a brilliant golden-bronze. His teeth, as well as his dorsal and cresting scales are bone-white, while his talons are black. His eyes are an orange-yellow color, and his brow is bony and heavy. Stockier than most other dragons, Jormungandr tends to be swift and powerful on the the ground. As a flier, he is built for power and distance, not necessarily speed.

Personality:
Jormungandr is rather aggressive, even for a dragon, having been subjected to years of abuse by Galbatorix and the priests of Helgrind. He is slow to trust, and will impose his will in whatever way he can over those that he perceives as a threat. He is very defensive of himself and his rider, and relies on her to temper his negative tendencies.
Introspective and thoughtful by nature, Jormungandr prefers deceptive means to his ends, and can be considered the stereotype of a clever dragon. He enjoys riddles, mystery, and intrigue, though it is easy for his rash temperament to get the better of him.

Strengths: Powerful mind, Fast Learner, Above average size, Physical strength.

Weaknesses: Quick temper, Fear of the Galbatorix, Relative inexperience, Slow take-off.

History: Jormungandr was laid nearly 300 years ago by Jotunn, a massive Red dragoness. His egg indicated that his scales would be the Bronze color of his sire, Levyathan. The egg was massive, by any standards, at nearly six feet in height. The egg became somewhat of a permanent fixture in the hatcheries of Ilirea, as the dragon inside never chose a rider when young men and women were presented.
After nearly two centuries, the egg was transported to Vroengard, and dismissed as lifeless, or faulty; fated to never hatch.

Soon after Jormungandr’s egg was moved, Vroengard fell to Galbatorix and his Foresworn riders. In the scramble to defend the remaining dragon eggs, Jormungandr’s egg was left behind. It was too big to move quickly, and had never shown any sign of hatching. It was captured by the Foresworn and taken back to Ilirea, where Galbatorix presented it to person after person in hopes of finding a rider. Galbatorix poured the poisons of his mind into the egg, but Jormungandr would not hatch. Frustrated, Galbatorix sent the egg to the priests at Helgrind, to be tempted with their dark magics. It was not long before the flickering consciousness grew wary and angry. The dragon quickly shut itself off from the minds of the priests, and was sent back to Ilirea, now Uru’baen.

Galbatorix, seeing no further use for the egg, but unable to bring himself to destroy it, sent the egg as a trophy to a wealthy family in Belatona, with the understanding that the most promising young men and women from the county would be brought before the egg every year.

Was their egg stolen or given to the character by the Varden/Empire or found in the wild?: Given by the Varden

Roleplay Sample:

Merril lay curled about the base of the massive egg, as naked as her naming day. As soon as the egg had begun to hatch, Merril had moved it out of the public eye, and into a tent that Nasuada had kindly provided for her. Tears welled in the Elf's eyes as she shifted her lithe body closer to the egg.

The dragon with the river-bank scales was having trouble hatching.

Reaching out with her mind, Merril could not connect with the dragon, no matter how she tried. Every time she got close, the dragon pulled away. Merril could almost touch the dragon's desire for a companion that had been hidden away for so long. Stroking the egg, Merril knew that the dragon...her dragon...was dying. Her voice heavy with emotion, but whithered by her mental exersions, Merril placed her hand over the small crack in the egg that had appeared when she had first touched it, and sang in her mother-tongue.

"You have lingered in the dark for so long, collecting the shadows of this world; painting it with the darkest colors of your mind...you have not known me, but you have dreamed of me, just as I have dreamed of you. Bond with me here.

Bond with me. Learn to fly with me, and you will possess every color of this world, and no longer learn from the phantoms of history in books, or false tales."

A soft hum came from the large egg as the dragon with the river-bank scales responded to Merril's song. Hearing the dragon, Merril looked up, moving to her knees to sing into the crack directly.

"Have you dreamed of me much? Have you hungered so long for the touch of my hand? Bond with me here, this night and you will possess that and more of me. For every breath that my lungs take in, and every beating of my heart; every thought belonging to me, as good belongs to you.

It is not power, or knowledge, or society that I desire. Not food or wine, or the pleasure of this world, not even the best. Only the closeness do I crave...to hear again the hum of your valved voice."

A warmth came to the crack in the gigantic egg then, and a gust of air as the dragon pressed its muzzle to Merril's hand, breaking through the jeweled shell. The universe flared to life in Merril's mind, and the hot sting of bliss shot through her, rendering her breathless. The Elf slumped against the egg, catching herself on the neck of the dragon as its head protruded.

The tears began to stream down her face as she locked eyes with her soul-mate for the first time. Merril poured her energy into the dragon as it flexed its muscles, emerging fully from the egg, and dragging her into a heaped embrace on the floor of the tent. Their minds were one, and his voice sounded just as she had dreamed it would.

"I have waited long indeed for you, my love."

The dragon hummed, and his voice filled Merril's mind. She gave in to it, allowing him to explore every inch of her being, as she did to him. They delved deep into each other's minds. From a dream, long ago, from a half-remembered childhood day, the dragon chose his name, reciting Merril's thoughts at being presented to dragon eggs as a child.

"Whoever you are...wherever you are...I will love you until the end of the void itself."

Merril's voice caught in her throat, and she was speechless.

"You have dreamed of me as Jormungandr, the foundation of your world. It is a good name. A strong name. I would be glad to have it."
Standing and meeting the dragon for the first time as equals and bond-mates on common ground, Merril once again touched her left hand to his snout, whispering his name.

"Jormungandr..."

[cicymyst]

(whispering) Hint: post if you want an egg, and state what kind of egg you want. It helps get your point across if you post that at the top of your post.

[cicymyst]

I'm just wondering when these applications will be accepted or refuted... Rhaxta? When's that going to be? End of Belatona, maybe?

[Merril]

This is simply speculation, so don't quote me, but I would imagine that the cache of eggs would be found in Belatona by the Varden, and Galbatorix would reach deep into some secret store and find riders to match the ones that hatch for the Varden.

On another note, I would like to offer Merril as a tutor of magic even in the event that she does not receive a dragon.

[martinj1996]

Are you excepting urgal riders yet or ddo we have to wait for an urgal rider please reply thank yoi

[Rhaxta]

I am afraid there are no urgal riders for the time being . Sorry