Kevala: Empires' Elf-Rider
Jul 3, 2009 9:22:17 GMT -5
Post by zdude on Jul 3, 2009 9:22:17 GMT -5
Full Name: Kevala
Other name: N/A
Race:: Elf-Rider
Side: Empire
Birthplace: Someplace around Lake Ardwen of Du Weldenvarden.
Age: Two-Hundred-and-Thirteen-Years-Old (213)
Gender: Male
Birthday: Sometime in Autumn.
Eyes: Hazel.
Hair: Dark Brown.
Weight: 60 Kilograms.
Height: 5'6".
Magic User: Yes. Specialises in creating wards and enchantments, although isn't much good at breaking them. He also has a fascination for magic using water.
Preferred Weapon(s): White Chokutô and Magic, although his true strength lies within his mind.
Personality: Kevalas is a kindly monster – brutally happy, beautifully and unbefitting of any normality, and without a tinge of guilt.
Kevalas’ disregard for his own people started when he became fascinated by humans, and with a loss of interest in his own people, he considered the semblance of a human better than a boring elf. This hapless interest caused Kevala to concede eating the meat of animals, which he later relished and now thoroughly enjoys. This is mostly due to his very flippant and uncaring nature.
Albeit charismatic, Kevala is also a very whimsical person, and is very hard to grasp understanding from when he’s speaking in tangents, which are usually brought on by distractions and his ever-shifting thoughts. This can’t be confused for being air headed, or not mentally present during a conversation, as his eyes are always watching and ears always listening. As such, he will always act the keen observer and fascinated commentator – his gaze fixated on the past and present. Let it be known that he has little to no care for the future though.
An almost kindness seems to resinate from his face, but that is merely a farce brought on by his appearance. Really, Kevala has little sympathy or even empathy for the world and people around him, while trapped within an optimistic outlook that knows no woe or pain. Not even the fallen grace from his kin bothered him, content with any and all situations that are posed before him.
Impulsive to a fault, the ramblings of his thoughts continue to perverse the unsympathetic fascination he has with people, causing him to feel cynical of all negativity and his ‘kind’ words to sound insincere.
Appearance: An oddity of sorts, Kevala could be considered very strange by elf standards due to the fact his prized appearance has been that of resembling a normal human being – albeit a very beautiful one. This includes his eyes being levelled and his ears rounded.
Garbed normally in a comfortable, long-sleeved, and cream-coloured tunic with golden fringes, Kevala also wears black pants and brown leather boots.
Of course, when in the midst of a battle, he will wear finely made white armour – this includes a jewel encrusted helmet, gauntlets, boots, chain-mail, and basic armour plating consisting around his chest and limbs. His sword is worn on the right side of his black-leather belt, as he is left-handed and desires the pommel of his blade to be easily grasped.
These clothes are of course fitted for his lightly-built frame, which is tanned and slimly muscled, although broader around the shoulders.
An outlook of purity, an angelic expression is usually spread across his content face. His hazel eyes have the natural wide-eyed curiosity that allows others to ease in his presence, framed by wildly strong eyebrows and a smooth complexion, to which is bordered by a short mane of curly hair. All that is left is his nose, a little larger than most although perfect for his profile and the beautiful smile that is almost always spread across his lips.
Likes/Dislikes: Kevala likes the smell of water, listening, singing, but favours observing people the most. Kevala dislikes, but rather acts more apathetic towards fighting.
Strengths: Powerful mind. Fantastic eyes, hearing and agility. Powerful wards and knowledge of smithing with magical aid.
Weaknesses: No patience. Easily Distracted. Naive, assuming, and gullible.
Family: Mother - Denrir. Father - Ingavnir. Sisters - Tanra, Marya, Liluke, Bellatuse, Elnia. Brothers - Grothnirth, Ramra.
Not-So-Brief History: Prelude to a time before war ravaged the land, before the green grass was brought gray by the fire and ash; there was a young elf that enjoyed life without fault. He was born among seven other siblings, each unique in their own ways, and taken care of by the lovingness of his two parents. There has never been a time when Kevalas’ eyes shone as bright, elated with a powerful energy, and content with everything as a whole. These were the days when he was a child and his mind wondered, ambling along without pause.
Certainly, once he grew old enough he wanted to travel the land, being the free spirit that he was, and he decidedly left the homely forest at twenty in excited urgency. On his travels he met with the strangeness of the dwarves, which took to him very snidely and so he wasn’t impressed with their negativity and took his journey elsewhere. Along his way once again, that is when he met up with the humans, each treating him with amazement and awe. That is when he decided he preferred the hospitality of the humans.
This was the time when he first met a Dragon Rider, a young man with a purple dragon, and the stories he detailed grabbed hold of Kevala’s very core.
Speaking with the interesting folk, he gained a fascination and almost obsession for their customs, the way they looked and spoke. He found the beauty in their faults. The humans’ culture and habits became his muse.
Travelling back to the trees of Du Weldenvarden, he returned with rounded ears and levelled eyes, a new accent to his speech and an ordinary physique. His kind acted just as fascinated with his change as the humans did when they first saw him. This of course had been a very proud moment in Kevalas’ life.
This fad wasn’t loved for long though, and Kevala continued to perverse the human culture and turn it into a strange art and obsession, and the folks around him whispered in their minds how odd his actions were becoming.
Once he had started the practice of eating meat, this was when he was promptly ostracised by the rest of his kin. Even his sisters and parents ignored him, and Kevala was left alone within the mystical world of the elves. Naturally he thought to take himself elsewhere, where he would find acceptance and interest. The world of the elves had become boring and unresponsive to him. He had been practicing this bizarre behaviour for fifty years now, but now he set forth once again to the human lands.
Blending in with the humans was easy, his appearance the perfect semblance of any handsome young man, but he still found it hard to join with any community due to his immortality. He was left a forever traveller.
Once again he had met the same Dragon Rider and his larger purple dragon, who now acknowledged that he was an elf and spoke to him with intrigue. Noticing the respect that this man was given by his peers, Kevala wondered if he too should become a Dragon Rider, brought on by the fancy of respect and happiness. He found himself idolising the idea of the Dragon Riders.
Being a Dragon Rider wasn’t all glamour though.
Kevala was only a century old before the Rider War broke out and he was left to watch the misery that transpired. His people, the elves, were left to hide within their forest while he walked unnoticed within the crowd of humans. Galbatorix took control of the land and reigned supreme with the help of his Forsworn and last of the Dragon Riders; which he still, in a twisted way, admired as Dragon Riders.
Almost another century passed, Kevala was brought before the mad king. He had finally been found out as an elf.
More interested in gleaming knowledge from the prisoner, Galbatorix unfortunately found out that Kevala had nothing of interest to share due to his separation from the elves for years. Fortunately, he had no loyalties to the elves but was incredibly interested in what he saw as the last of the Dragon Riders.
Galbatorix presented an egg to Kevala and it hatched, obviously starved by the lack of hands placed onto it. The white dragon was named, Innir.
Anything extra:
Information on Innir, the Grey Dragon:
Name: Innir
Age: 6
Gender: Male
Appearance: Innir, unlike his Rider, is built very muscular. His scales are mostly dark grey on the topside, except for the edge of his snout and stomach which is pure white. With beaming red eyes, he has the appearance of a very menacing dragon. Stout and thick around the legs, with powerful and ferocious jaws, a spiked tail and claws, he is the epitome of a Dragon perfectly suited for brawling. Although not fast in flight, he does have a very agile body and, dangerously, is able to move his head and feet very quickly. Basically, Innir isn’t suited for impractical aerial manoeuvres, but is perfectly able to make tactical and heavy dives.
Personality: Almost an angel on Kevalas’ shoulder, Innir speaks with kindness and reason. He doesn’t have much of a way with words or thoughts, but he is always looking out for his Rider and trying to make sure nobody takes advantage of Kevalas’ gullible and naïve nature. Easily angered, this dragon also finds solace in quiet observation, as he’s not much of a talker, and does prefer action over words.
Password: [[Mod Edit]]
Other name: N/A
Race:: Elf-Rider
Side: Empire
Birthplace: Someplace around Lake Ardwen of Du Weldenvarden.
Age: Two-Hundred-and-Thirteen-Years-Old (213)
Gender: Male
Birthday: Sometime in Autumn.
Eyes: Hazel.
Hair: Dark Brown.
Weight: 60 Kilograms.
Height: 5'6".
Magic User: Yes. Specialises in creating wards and enchantments, although isn't much good at breaking them. He also has a fascination for magic using water.
Preferred Weapon(s): White Chokutô and Magic, although his true strength lies within his mind.
Personality: Kevalas is a kindly monster – brutally happy, beautifully and unbefitting of any normality, and without a tinge of guilt.
Kevalas’ disregard for his own people started when he became fascinated by humans, and with a loss of interest in his own people, he considered the semblance of a human better than a boring elf. This hapless interest caused Kevala to concede eating the meat of animals, which he later relished and now thoroughly enjoys. This is mostly due to his very flippant and uncaring nature.
Albeit charismatic, Kevala is also a very whimsical person, and is very hard to grasp understanding from when he’s speaking in tangents, which are usually brought on by distractions and his ever-shifting thoughts. This can’t be confused for being air headed, or not mentally present during a conversation, as his eyes are always watching and ears always listening. As such, he will always act the keen observer and fascinated commentator – his gaze fixated on the past and present. Let it be known that he has little to no care for the future though.
An almost kindness seems to resinate from his face, but that is merely a farce brought on by his appearance. Really, Kevala has little sympathy or even empathy for the world and people around him, while trapped within an optimistic outlook that knows no woe or pain. Not even the fallen grace from his kin bothered him, content with any and all situations that are posed before him.
Impulsive to a fault, the ramblings of his thoughts continue to perverse the unsympathetic fascination he has with people, causing him to feel cynical of all negativity and his ‘kind’ words to sound insincere.
Appearance: An oddity of sorts, Kevala could be considered very strange by elf standards due to the fact his prized appearance has been that of resembling a normal human being – albeit a very beautiful one. This includes his eyes being levelled and his ears rounded.
Garbed normally in a comfortable, long-sleeved, and cream-coloured tunic with golden fringes, Kevala also wears black pants and brown leather boots.
Of course, when in the midst of a battle, he will wear finely made white armour – this includes a jewel encrusted helmet, gauntlets, boots, chain-mail, and basic armour plating consisting around his chest and limbs. His sword is worn on the right side of his black-leather belt, as he is left-handed and desires the pommel of his blade to be easily grasped.
These clothes are of course fitted for his lightly-built frame, which is tanned and slimly muscled, although broader around the shoulders.
An outlook of purity, an angelic expression is usually spread across his content face. His hazel eyes have the natural wide-eyed curiosity that allows others to ease in his presence, framed by wildly strong eyebrows and a smooth complexion, to which is bordered by a short mane of curly hair. All that is left is his nose, a little larger than most although perfect for his profile and the beautiful smile that is almost always spread across his lips.
Likes/Dislikes: Kevala likes the smell of water, listening, singing, but favours observing people the most. Kevala dislikes, but rather acts more apathetic towards fighting.
Strengths: Powerful mind. Fantastic eyes, hearing and agility. Powerful wards and knowledge of smithing with magical aid.
Weaknesses: No patience. Easily Distracted. Naive, assuming, and gullible.
Family: Mother - Denrir. Father - Ingavnir. Sisters - Tanra, Marya, Liluke, Bellatuse, Elnia. Brothers - Grothnirth, Ramra.
Not-So-Brief History: Prelude to a time before war ravaged the land, before the green grass was brought gray by the fire and ash; there was a young elf that enjoyed life without fault. He was born among seven other siblings, each unique in their own ways, and taken care of by the lovingness of his two parents. There has never been a time when Kevalas’ eyes shone as bright, elated with a powerful energy, and content with everything as a whole. These were the days when he was a child and his mind wondered, ambling along without pause.
Certainly, once he grew old enough he wanted to travel the land, being the free spirit that he was, and he decidedly left the homely forest at twenty in excited urgency. On his travels he met with the strangeness of the dwarves, which took to him very snidely and so he wasn’t impressed with their negativity and took his journey elsewhere. Along his way once again, that is when he met up with the humans, each treating him with amazement and awe. That is when he decided he preferred the hospitality of the humans.
This was the time when he first met a Dragon Rider, a young man with a purple dragon, and the stories he detailed grabbed hold of Kevala’s very core.
Speaking with the interesting folk, he gained a fascination and almost obsession for their customs, the way they looked and spoke. He found the beauty in their faults. The humans’ culture and habits became his muse.
Travelling back to the trees of Du Weldenvarden, he returned with rounded ears and levelled eyes, a new accent to his speech and an ordinary physique. His kind acted just as fascinated with his change as the humans did when they first saw him. This of course had been a very proud moment in Kevalas’ life.
This fad wasn’t loved for long though, and Kevala continued to perverse the human culture and turn it into a strange art and obsession, and the folks around him whispered in their minds how odd his actions were becoming.
Once he had started the practice of eating meat, this was when he was promptly ostracised by the rest of his kin. Even his sisters and parents ignored him, and Kevala was left alone within the mystical world of the elves. Naturally he thought to take himself elsewhere, where he would find acceptance and interest. The world of the elves had become boring and unresponsive to him. He had been practicing this bizarre behaviour for fifty years now, but now he set forth once again to the human lands.
Blending in with the humans was easy, his appearance the perfect semblance of any handsome young man, but he still found it hard to join with any community due to his immortality. He was left a forever traveller.
Once again he had met the same Dragon Rider and his larger purple dragon, who now acknowledged that he was an elf and spoke to him with intrigue. Noticing the respect that this man was given by his peers, Kevala wondered if he too should become a Dragon Rider, brought on by the fancy of respect and happiness. He found himself idolising the idea of the Dragon Riders.
Being a Dragon Rider wasn’t all glamour though.
Kevala was only a century old before the Rider War broke out and he was left to watch the misery that transpired. His people, the elves, were left to hide within their forest while he walked unnoticed within the crowd of humans. Galbatorix took control of the land and reigned supreme with the help of his Forsworn and last of the Dragon Riders; which he still, in a twisted way, admired as Dragon Riders.
Almost another century passed, Kevala was brought before the mad king. He had finally been found out as an elf.
More interested in gleaming knowledge from the prisoner, Galbatorix unfortunately found out that Kevala had nothing of interest to share due to his separation from the elves for years. Fortunately, he had no loyalties to the elves but was incredibly interested in what he saw as the last of the Dragon Riders.
Galbatorix presented an egg to Kevala and it hatched, obviously starved by the lack of hands placed onto it. The white dragon was named, Innir.
Anything extra:
Information on Innir, the Grey Dragon:
Name: Innir
Age: 6
Gender: Male
Appearance: Innir, unlike his Rider, is built very muscular. His scales are mostly dark grey on the topside, except for the edge of his snout and stomach which is pure white. With beaming red eyes, he has the appearance of a very menacing dragon. Stout and thick around the legs, with powerful and ferocious jaws, a spiked tail and claws, he is the epitome of a Dragon perfectly suited for brawling. Although not fast in flight, he does have a very agile body and, dangerously, is able to move his head and feet very quickly. Basically, Innir isn’t suited for impractical aerial manoeuvres, but is perfectly able to make tactical and heavy dives.
Personality: Almost an angel on Kevalas’ shoulder, Innir speaks with kindness and reason. He doesn’t have much of a way with words or thoughts, but he is always looking out for his Rider and trying to make sure nobody takes advantage of Kevalas’ gullible and naïve nature. Easily angered, this dragon also finds solace in quiet observation, as he’s not much of a talker, and does prefer action over words.
Password: [[Mod Edit]]
Hopefully that looks better.
