Extraho Veho Vita (DragonRider Life)

[BeauteousDeath]

Portrait done by Lillian Thorn

~Name~ Caitriona (Cat-ree-ohnah) Laoch
~Age~ 300 years old, appears to be 30 years old.
~Race~ Human
~Hair~ Chestnut copper
~Eyes~ Green
~Skin~ Fair, tanned.
~Height~ 6 feet 0 inches
~Weight~ 140lbs
~Marital Status~ Widowed, Findecáno Laoch
~Children~ Astrid
~Occupation~ Dragon Rider, Council Member, Warrior, Mage
~Dragon~ Zeus
~Dragon Type~ Sonear di wer Vaslakni, Dragon for Eater of the Universe
~Dragon's Color~ Black with a silver tint.
~Distinguishing Features~ The most noticeable is the facial scar, starting at the right eyebrow, running diagonally to the left across her nose, under her left eye, and ending at the corner of her left jaw. Another distinguishing feature that is generally hidden is what marks her as a Dragon Rider, born with it, it looks to be a tattoo of a large Dragon covering her entire back.

~History~
Caitriona was born in a simple village in the mountains of the North that struggled to survive everyday, called Chuloch. Though she was born with the mark of a Rider, she did not meet Apollo until she was 10 years of age, at which point they began their training after meeting each other for the first time, in Alliobryandan, an Elven city within the thickest part of the forest, that was specifically designed to train Dragons and their Riders. By the time she was 40, she and Apollo were deemed battle worthy, and fought with many other Riders and their Dragons to maintain peace between countries and various races.

When she was 80, appearing no older than 25 at the time, due to being a Rider and linked to her Dragon, she met her husband, Findecáno, who had an identical twin brother named, Caranthir. They were Elven, and Findecáno was a marked Rider as well. His twin, was not. This made Caranthir jealous, and he came to hate his brother, and Caitriona. Especially since Caitriona seemed to take all of Findecáno's time, and she was a mere human, who happened to have been born with a Rider's Mark as well. Eventually, Caranthir caused too much trouble, and chaos. Causing a rift between Dragon Riders and normal human beings.

214 years later, Caitriona and her husband, Findecáno, welcomed their daughter Astrid into the world. Caitriona and Astrid, however, ended up losing husband and father just 5 days after Willow had been born. The exact nature of his death is still unknown, as Caitriona and Caranthir, now known as King Connor, are the only people who know what happened to him. Everyone assumes that Findecáno died in an ambush or some battle as he was away on his Dragon, Hera, who also perished.

6 years later, Astrid, a very promising future Dragon Rider, her Dragon being Ares, son of Apollo and Hera. Caitriona appears to be harder than before she'd lost her husband. Astrid, being the only person alive to see any features softening, or a smile coming to her lips without a fight. Caitriona, still a battle hardened Rider, now leads the remaining Riders and their Dragons, in survival and the war against the king.

[ladybella]

~Name~ Peronelle Nit'Awni (prefers to be called Perry)
~Age~ 152 looks around 20
~Race~ Elf
~Hair~ Almost as long as she is tall and as black as the night sky. She normally braids it to keep from walking on it and keep it from getting in her way.
~Eyes~ As green as Emeralds, round and wide, and as bright as the sun. In her left eye she has a brown speck.
~Skin~ Fair, as an Elf's skin should be.
~Height~ five foot three
~Weight~ 102 pounds
~Marital Status~ Unmarried and single
~Occupation~ Dragon Rider, Mage and Warrior
~Dragon~ Zephyr
~Dragon Type~ Inik Tilsin, Sand Lizard
~Dragon's Color~ Pearl White
~Distinguishing Features~ She has a dragon mark on her left arm, the head is restig on her shoulder, while the body stretches the length of he arm, the tip of the tail ending at the tip of her ring finger.
~History~
When Perry was born and her parents saw her mark, they instantly put a sword in her hand. They were worried that she would not be able to defend herself. However, she proved to be one of the most skilled warrior elves of her time. Being born in an Elven city, Perry met her dragon, Zephyr when she was five, but he was not allowed to stay with her, her parents saying he needed to first learn to be a dragon before he could learn to be a partner in their dragon rider relationship. However, because of their bond, Perry and Zephyr spent a lot of time together, in their minds.
When their training started together, they already proved to be able to speak with each other from a long distance, which helped their training progress. However, Zephyr was injured during an arial battle practice and their training was put on hold while Zephyr recovered. When he was finally able to fly again, their training progressed slowly, Zephyr not being able to stay in the air very long at first. The pair were finally able to graduate their training when they were 64 years old and were put to work keeping the peace.

[Callthecops]

Name: Charon, the Anvil.
Age: 637 Years (Appears to be 30 years old)
Race: Elf
Hair: White/Gray
Eyes: Yellow
Skin: Fair
Height: 6’4
Weight: 186 lbs
Marital Status: Unmarried
Occupation: Elven Battlemage/Dragon Rider
Dragon: Odin
Dragon Type: Inik Tilsin
Dragon Color: Amethyst
Distinguishing Features: A pair of two, long, parallel scars that run down the right side of his forehead, and through his eye. The rest of his body is littered with dozens of scars, and contains no Rider’s Mark.

History: Charon was born an extremely unusual Elf, more specifically, a large Elf. Unlike most of his kin, Charon found himself taller than average, and far heavier. This extra weight is manifested purely in his muscle mass however, and though he has retained the Elven figure, he was clearly born for battle. The moment he was old enough to wield a blade, he started training, finding himself with a natural affinity for the bastard sword, not typically the weapon of choice for an Elf. The one thing Charon truly had in common with other Elves was his affinity for magic. He was never any good at healing or conjuring things, but destruction came naturally to him.

He quickly became a very capable Battlemage, and continued to test himself in battle frequently. He earned the name, “The Anvil” due to the fact that it seemed no matter how hard one fought; he remained steadfast and overcame. Almost 200 years ago, during his travels, Charon came across three Inik Tilsin. The dragons killed his horse, and all his men, though one was slain, and the second was beaten down to the point where Charon could finish it off easily. The third dragon however, proved to be the strongest; the beast and The Anvil fought for several hours before the dragon finally spoke. It chose Charon as it’s Rider, because he had proven himself as a force, equal to it’s own.

[inDefiance]

~Name~ 'Shar' - Sharienne Odae Barenias



~Age~ 25
~Race~ Human
~Hair~ Mahogany in Autumn, Tawny red in Spring
~Eyes~ Grey
~Skin~ Fair.
~Height~ 6 feet 1 inches
~Weight~ 188lbs
~Marital Status~ Single yet did have many suitors.
~Occupation~ Dragon Rider, Warden of Fierce Mercy Representative and Mystic-Blade.
~Dragon~ Ambrisahn
~Dragon Type~ Vorel Tilsin, Beautiful Lizard
~Dragon's Color~ Steely Blue.

~Distinguishing Features~
In times of war, and when riding Ahmbrisahn, Shar wears plated armour along her shoulders, breast, legs and arms. A corset of gold tinged steel protects her mid-riff and allows for good movement. Her helm is her prized protection as well as her talisman of the DragonStar upon her chest. Her helm has been cast and fashioned with symbols and common patterning of The Wardens of Fierce Mercy.

A broadsword and shield both of which have the standard of her liege and stamp of her Mystic-Blade's wardenship does she carry. A blade shorter than her main weapon yet broader than a dagger is the defensive weapon of her sister mystic-blades. It bears the eyes and heart in the DragonStar in honour of her cause and imbued is it for her to cast her spells. Helanna is its name and any who dare to hold it against Fierce Mercy's will shall understand that there is fury in the heart of a DragonStar and their eyes will burn with the suffering of all those that have had their life taken from them.


~History~
From the lush grassy greenery in the southern reaches is from whence Sharienne hails. Born into a family of resplendent pedigree (a long line of reknown horse breeders were the Barenias), a rich and privileged daughter of a rich and privileged horsebreeder she became. She, her two elder sisters and younger brother became well-versed and well-practiced in the ways of equine care and handling. But Sharienne knew she was always meant for more; something inside her called her name.

Her younger brother and she fought all the time, even to the point of physical violence. However, she would always pick him up afterwards, brush him off, kiss the top of his head and state: "Tomorrow... It is a new day, you will see, and your heart and ways may still change yet..." Those words carried her and her brother into their teens and closer did they become. In fact, those words carried upon the wind and to the ears of the Wardens of Fierce Mercy were they swept.

Two sister Wardens came one day and offered her an apprenticeship as a Mystic-Blade. Her parents did abhor the thought, but when their liege graced the Barienas family with shiny words, (words strong enough to place the Barenias in higher standing) only then did they fall in line with their liege's pride for their girl to become a mystic-blade; a woman trained in the ways of both spells and combat. Away from her beloved family, home and horses, away from the whispers and accusing eyes stating she was a deviant, away from the lush life of a rich horsebreeder's daughter she went. But oh, did Sharienne flourish in her training and teachings.

Into womanhood, she soared, a warrior and a lady; a fighter for a cause, a flower for compassion. A Warden of Fierce Mercy, a beautiful sister mystic-blade bearing the crest of the DragonStar did she become. And by the will of a goddess was she empowered now.

And so came the time of proper aligning of the DragonStar; probably the single most important day in the life of a Warden of Fierce Mercy. It was time to see which one woman mystic-blade amongst many would be chosen as a Rider. They had prepared their rituals and spells, their arms and techniques to face off against each other, to show prowess worthy of a Dragon's mettle and trust. But Sharienne was not amongst those hand-picked sisters readying themselves to compete against another sister.

No, Sharienne was already climbing the mountainside to greet the judge, the immense form of the Dragon. A sense of deja-vu, perhaps a tingling sense of two universes touching, she felt as soon as she heaved her tired and bloodied frame up and over the edge of the cliff. A knee she took and felt completeness soar within her; Shar sensed the Dragon had known her name ever since she was born. And as both pairs of shining grey eyes met, Shar knew that she had held that Dragon's name secret all along too.

Deep within her heart, hidden just behind the mirror to her soul in those grey eyes, she always knew she was meant for more. Sharienne Odae Barenias was meant for Ahmbrisahn.

[Deamonbane]

~Name~ Harad Mousif
~Age~ 24
~Race~ Human
~Hair~ Brown
~Eyes~ Ice-blue
~Skin~ White, almost pale
~Height~ 6" 4
~Weight~ 189 lbs.
~Marital Status~ Single
~Occupation~ Dragon-rider, blademaster
~Dragon~ Morgoth
~Dragon Type~ Vorel Tilsen
~Dragon's Color~ Purest black
~Distinguishing Features~ His dragon scar is unique, a dragon curling up around his neck, and breathing fire over his eyes. His chest is covered in fire burns.

~History~
He was always told that he had been born for greatness. As soon as he could stand, instead of a regular schooling, like the rest of his brothers, he was taken to the nearest barracks, and left there by his parents, whom he, obviously, doesn't remember too well. As soon as he was old enough, a blade was placed in his hands, and he was taught to use it, every day of his life, along with other weapons. He became what you would call a specialist, being able to wield just about any weapon in any arsenal with ease. His muscles toned, his eye sharpened. But his most agile weapon was his dragon, that had been around him since his birth. Little could keep the two separated, and they seemed to be of one mind. The dragon soon got to big to remain indoors, and he didn't like it anyways. Harad took to sleeping outside, and a common sight it was to see the two napping on a knoll in the middle of a forest. In their tricks, they were thick as thieves, and played tricks on any man, woman, or child of any race that took their fancy. The tricks began to become more elaborate in nature, and the lord of the barracks was sorry to see the two off, even though he was relieved.

[FrozenSprites]

~Name~ Mia Brion
~Age~ 21 years old
~Race~ Human
~Hair~ Dirty blonde
~Eyes~ Hazel
~Skin~ Fair, tanned.
~Height~ 5 feet, 7 inches
~Weight~ 130lbs
~Marital Status~ Single
~Occupation~ Dragon Rider, Thief, Inventor
~Dragon~ Nox
~Dragon Type~ Svanan
~Dragon's Color~ A dark brown. bordering black
~Distinguishing Features~ The most distinguishing feature wouldn't be on Mia but instead on her dragon. Her dragon was wounded when she first encountered it, and instead of killing it or capturing it, she used her knowledge to help it. Now he has a metal device on his tail that helps him fly.

~History~
Mia Brion was a name that many in her old village hated. She was known as "IT" which was short for "Immortal Thief" since she was a thief that could never be caught. She was quick, agile, intelligent, and most of all, a technological genius. She may not have been skilled in the art of magic, but she was skilled with other things, such as her knowledge of traps and smoke bombs. She was also as daring as any warrior, being able to go toe to toe with guards and come out unscathed with her specialized weapons like her hook rope, a device she used to disable guards quickly.

Anyways, it was around the age of 14 that she left her home town and began her travels as a master burglar, robbing even the most defended homes in the country. Royalty, the upper class, nobles, no one could be considered safe from "IT's" thieving spree, until she reached the age of 18. She was travelling through the swamps when she came across a dragon that was about to be captured, killed, or something by a group of men. Using her smoke bomb as a shroud, and her specialized hook rope, she took down all of the men with little resistance and moved onto the dragon.

His "tail fin" was damaged badly, but with her technological prowess, she managed to create a metal cast of sorts that would be able to work like a natural "tail fin." (Yes, I'm basing this off "How to train your dragon" or whatever it's called.) The dragon was very thankful for Mia's assistance, but when she went to leave, he followed her. For three days, Mia tried to hide throughout the swamp, but this being the dragon's home, she was unable to do anything about it. Finally, the dragon was pushed away when Mia had a slight temper tantrum and left her alone, and she was ambushed by the men she had fought off earlier.

The dragon was still nearby, and managed to save Mia just in time to prevent whatever punishment the men were going to give to Mia. She was bruised, battered, and her clothes were damaged, but she was alright. At that point, she decided to befriend the dragon, not fully understanding their bond was more than just simple friendship. She unknowingly became a rider at that point.

Now, three years of training so far, she isn't an expert at riding her dragon, named Nox, but she is still good at it and combined with both their wits, speed, stealth, and ingenuity, they make a dangerous duo to fight against.

[Chyoko]

Lilium Ignis



Age: 25
Race: Human
Hair: Dark mahogany
Eyes: Ice blue dragon eyes
Skin: Pale coco
Height: 5 feet 3 inches
Weight: 110lbs
Marital Status: single
Occupation: Dragon Rider, ex-assassin, infiltrator, mage
Dragon: Vutha Siksta (goes by Vutha)
Dragon Type: Inik Tislin- Sand Lizard
Dragon’s Color: Inky black

Distinguishing Features: One scar is blatantly apparent on her face. It was of a coiling dragon on her cheek, the tail curling just over her lip as it breathed fire across her nose. Her eyes are that of a dragon, even reflecting light in the dark.

Rarely will you ever see her with her hood drawn, unless she trusts you, or it’s during an interrogation. There is an elephant shoulder pad on her left shoulder, and a hidden blade that goes up into a long bracelet. The flowing red fabric is used to conceal anything she needs, such as her hand held knife. The belt she always sports is an old family heirloom that she keeps with her at all times.



History: Lilium Ignis’ story starts the day before she was suppose to be born, the day her dragon hatched… and died. The bond that would bind both human and beast, though formed, wasn’t as powerful as a single day of life shared would make it.

So as her dragon perished, she was forced into this world without part of her soul. Unfortunately, her mother took her grave spot so that she could live. Unable to look at the child that killed his wife, Lilium’s father gave her away to an uncle that saw nothing but promise.

Believing that her dragon still lived, she was raised to be an asset to Gurth Maethor (Death Warrior) an elite group of assassin’s. As she grew older, the hole in her heart left by the demise of her dragon festered, released during her kills. But doubts were starting to form in her protectors’ minds about the truth of her Mark.

By the time she was twenty-three, not once had she ever met with or came across her dragon. They started to believe that the Mark on her face was but a hoax, it resembled a skillful burn more than anything. Unable to refute what they accused her of, she fled Gurth Maethor. But she was still one of the most deadly killers any had seen, her skill going so far as to use her limited magic to make a refined poison.

But despite her skills, she was still made to leave under the pretense that she was a liar. Lilium traveled far away from the only place she knew as home, into I’ Dor ar Lith, where a miraculous event happened.

From the sand rose a beast, blacker than even the pitch of night, the only distinguishable feature it’s gapping maw filled with blade like teeth. The creature let out a horrific roar, angling its head downwards to look at the slight intruder upon its territory. Lilium looked up at the horrible beast with grin, and her voice rang out.

“Marfedelom geou clax wux sjek wux nar.” (Death will take you if you strike) The two stood in the blistering heat for the better half of an hour, watching, waiting, observing, neither making a move to attack. Finally the stale mate was ended as the beast lowered its massive head.

“Wux geou qe sia urthalre.” (You will be my Rider)

[jetipster]

Name: Doron-Man Hith’silme (Often called Dory)
Age: 261 Years (Appears to be 26 years old)
Race: Elf
Hair: Brunette
Eyes: Green
Skin: Tanned
Height: 6’3
Weight: 198lbs
Marital Status: Unmarried
Occupation: Healer and Dragon Rider
Dragon: Irisvar
Dragon Type: Vorel Tilsin
Dragon Color: Emerald
Distinguishing Features: A rider’s mark in the form of a curled sleeping dragon in the middle of his back.

History: Doron’s family of elven healers who weren’t best pleased by his rider’s mark appearing at birth. Generations of his bloodline had avoided conflict and declined military training in favour of the magical arts. Whilst a few relatives had become battlemages, many relished in enchantments and construction, but were most revered for their healing. Doron was brought up to follow his ancestors skill tree and became an adept healer, showing far more prowess than other pupils his age. However both he and his family knew that it was only a matter of time before his dragon found him and they made the bond.

After being searched out by an ally of the riders, Irisvar joined minds with Doron and combined their healing became more powerful than anyone had imagined. He struggled with combat training, but Irisvar relished the challenge. Together however they have worked to become an excellent rescue team, Irisvar’s speed and larger than normal size capable of carrying more passengers and Doron working hard to improve his ranged magic and defensive wards.

He has shared his healing expertise amongst the riders and relishes being the go-to guy for queries. However he has to juggle the conflict of demands to be a tutor and a desirable companion to other riders on journeys. He rarely attended council meetings, although with dwindling numbers, he had no doubt his opinion would be called on more frequently from now on. But for now he was enjoying his current task of searching the vast continent for traditional remedies and exotic herbs, as well as looking for that special guy...I mean…erm…someone.

[Syntax Error]

Name: Mythos Hawking
Age: 268 years old, though he appears to be in his late 20's.
Race: Human
Hair: Jet black and curly.
Eyes: Misty blue
Skin: Pale, save for a bronzed upper body from working the forge.
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 210 Ibs.
Marital Status:
Children: None
Occupation: Blacksmith, Dragon Rider

Dragon: TyBerion
Dragon Type: Sonear di wer Vaslakni, Dragon for Eater of the Universe
Dragon's Color: Blood red, with yellow sunburst patterns across the wings.
Unique Skill:

TyBerion has the ability to imbue weapons and armor with a single magical property, so long as they are crafted using his own fire. The magical effects tend to be elemental, such as a sword becoming set aflame upon impact, burning into flesh or melting a shield that has gotten in it's way. Or, in Mythos' case, a hammer that is unbreakable.

Distinguishing Features:

Mythos easily sticks out in a crowd, mostly due to his physique. He has a wide body, with broad shoulders, and a large mane of curly black hair to match his beard. Unlike most Dragonriders, he prefers to wear simple clothing, sometimes even travelling while still wearing his blacksmith apron.

The only other thing that distinguishes him from others is his hammer, "Myvillion' Isk" (draconic for 'North Star'). It has a long handle, made for carrying with two hands, and the steel is heavy and 'Power Wrought'. He forged it with TyBerion's fire, and the dragon imbued it with magic, making the entire weapon (even the wooden haft of it) unbreakable.

~History~

Mythos was born and raised in Ashfall, a small city in the northernmost region of inhabitable land in Naur Khelek. Named for the grey colored snow of the winds that carried ash from the volcanos that lay a little more than 5 leagues away. A small band of Humans and Dwarves alike settled the land, and founded the city. Both species have shared Ashfall and its' resources for generations since. They had no rulers, only Elders: Human and Dwarf, Men and Women, that acted as lawmakers and judges for the city. Mythos had a modest upbringing in a family of miners, the oldest of six children. A boy of careful and meticulous thought, he took an apprenticeship with a Dwarven blacksmith named Gaeric at the age of fifteen. For years he honed his skills at the forge, preferring to create practical things as opposed to weapons. Steel shovels, teakettles, iron stoves, even puzzles. Gaeric said that his talents could easily carry over to weaponry (which he could sell to the Southlands and fetch a hefty profit), but Mythos always refused, stating that it didn't feel right to create something that was only used for killing. To him, there was just no sense in it, weapons served no purpose in helping people. Despite this, he became a highly sought blacksmith in his own right.

Three years later, at the age of 18, Mythos and many other residents of Ashfall were drafted into a coalition army. The Northern Legion had pledged to help fight off invading armies from a distant continent. Their ships had landed on the Eastern border, seeking to conquer I’ Dor ar Lith, then subsequently the entire continent of Nix't Astal. For a year and a half Mythos was forced to work at the forge and travel with the Legion. Though he did sharpen many blades, he would spend most of his time and effort into forging or repairing armor when he wasn't being watched over. He never saw battle himself, but by the end of what is now called, "The Drasille Wars", the invading Drasille Empire armies were beaten back into the ocean and forced to flee back to their homeland.

Mythos returned to Ashfall to find the city in a terribly corrupt state. While most of the able bodied men from Ashfall and the neighboring villages were sent off to war; Khlovis, a minor Lord, had declared himself "King of the North" and had practically enslaved all of Nuar Khelek's Easternmost region. He sent cavalrys to collect harsh taxes and would take children from their families to be his "servants" if anyone refused to pay him or recognize his authority. Anyone who dared fight back was hanged, assassinated, or 'went missing'.

One such cavalry came the morning after Mythos had returned home. A Captain General in grand armor rode to his family's humble logged cabin with five soldiers accompanying him. The Captain had been ordered to collect payment from the Hawking family and had heard that Mythos' father had refused to pay the last month's messenger. When his father did so again, the Captain and his men drew swords and decreed that they would take two of his daughters as collateral. For the first time in his life, Mythos was enraged. Filled with righteous anger. He dropped the metal he'd been crafting inside his tiny forge outside, walked straight up to the Captain and belted him across the eye with his hammer. He and his brother, Thorman, fought off the remaining cavalrymen.

The rest of the people in Ashfall heard of the Hawking family's defiance. Others began to rise up and speak out against Khlovis, in both Ashfall and its sister villages. Within months, Mythos found himself forging swords and axes for their rebel army. Even sooner after that, he had found himself reluctantly leading men to battle. He became one of the Ashfall Rebellion's most feared and respected generals, though he never wanted the title or the responsibility. He simply wanted peace in his homeland, and if he was going to be the only one with the gumption to see it done, then it was simple as that.

The fight between Khlovis' armies and the Rebel brotherhood of Northlands lasted for five more months. Mythos and the rebels were terribly outnumbered and most of the men were still tired from the Drasille Wars, but they knew the terrain of their home better than any invader could. They used that to their advantage in many battles thanks to Mythos' advice. They were good, loyal, and proud people, all of them. None would bow to the False King so long as they drew breath. Mythos, however, was unsatisfied with the lengthy battles. It seemed like they would never end. Day after day he had to see good neighbors wounded or dying. He'd had enough.

One day he had gotten a report that a large dragon had been seen flying around Ashmount, the city's tallest mountain. Something about that report got him thinking. The dragons and Dragonriders were said to be envoys of justice. Protectors of peace. Ashfall hadn't seen a Dragonrider, let alone a marked one, in centuries. Perhaps it was time they did. Mythos decided to make the three day journey up to Ashmount's jagged peak. It was there that he found and met TyBerion. The large and proud dragon stared him down, flashing it's fangs viciously and snorting flames, but Mythos showed no sign of the terrible fear that wrenched at his gut.

The next afternoon, Ashfall was once again under attack. The Rebel defenses were beginning to crumble. One of their best generals had taken off in the night without a word, seemingly abandoning them. All seemed lost, until Mythos arrived, landing atop the throng of soldiers where the battle was thickest, standing with a large two handed steel hammer that had a faint ghostly white glow to the metal. Alongside him was TyBerion, the blood red dragon, snarling at both sides of the warring men, quiting the chaos.

Khlovis vanished from the world. Some say he ran in fear when word was sent of a Dragonrider's appearance on the battlefield. Others say his own men had him murdered in secret to appease the Rebel faction and their new powerful ally. In the end, none of that mattered to Mythos. What was done was done. He had ended the fighting, and peace had come to his home.

After being chosen by TyBerion, Mythos had become a Dragonrider. Through the bond he became able to understand the dragon's thoughts and language. At his new dragon companion's behest, Mythos came into contact with the council, and made his presence known to the others. For years he was thought of as somewhat of a maverick. He had little concern for other parts of the world, so long as the North remained safe. He and TyBerion prefer to live a more reclusive lifestyle, searching the Northlands for those in need of help or guidance. He and TyBerion made a pact: To uphold justice and make sure that every creature in Nix't Astal was given their right to defend their home and their right to exist. He has proven himself and his dragon to be a strong and capable duo. Though they haven't been a part of anything too dangerous or noteable since the Rebellion, they have yet to enter any fight or conflict and not come out victorious.

[Mystyltainn]

~Name~ Ryker Hatavia
~Age~ 128 years old, appears to be about 18.
~Race~ Human
~Hair~ Brown
~Eyes~ Green
~Skin~ Slightly tanned.
~Height~ 5'9"
~Weight~ 147lbs
~Marital Status~ Single
~Occupation~ Dragon Rider, Warrior, Wanderer
~Dragon~ Andromeda
~Dragon Type~ Svanan
~Dragon's Color~ Dark purple with some blue hues.
~Distinguishing Features~ His long hair is always tied up into three vertical spikes in the back, a look that he claims is the traditional hairstyle of warriors from his village.

~History~
Not much is known about Ryker. Whenever somebody ventures a question about his past, they are quickly regaled with a tale of harrowing adventure that changes every time he tells it. In fact, the only thing that stays consistent between his tellings is his encounter with his dragon partner, and even that is hard to believe - from what he says, their chance meeting started with him falling off a cliff and landing on her back mid-flight. Though, knowing him, that might just be a figure of speech. What can be assumed is that he has been wandering the world from a very young age, and that he met and was chosen by his dragon somewhere along the way, seeing as he has no Marking that brands him a Rider.

What is known is that he is somewhat of an oddball, with plenty of personality quirks that distance him from most people, though this proves to be one of his most endearing traits to the friends who get to know him. Not that he has many to speak of; most people can't get past dealing with his almost perpetual happiness. Forget half-empty or half-full; for the Rider Hatavia, the glass is simply full.

This doesn't mean, however, that everything is always hunky-dory with him. He can and will get violent rather easily, most likely influenced by his partner's rather war-like temperament, though he will never truly get angry until the fighting gets serious. When he gets mad, however, expect him to battle with an almost inhuman rage, axe in one hand, round shield in the other. He's been very reliable during the times he's been called upon by the council, and with his quick reflexes and unrelenting fury, he has made somewhat of a name for himself as fighter and a warrior, rather than just an outcast.