Nadia Parnel

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element:
Fire
Height:
5'4"

Bio:
Nadia's parents were both Fire Gemminites who lived and raised her in a woodland cottage a little ways away from any towns or cities. They preferred the calm solitude that life in the woods offered as opposed to the busy life of a townsperson, and the relative safety of living like this. Her father worked as a merchant and so was away often, trading around the country, while her mother was a seamstress. Nadia eventually picked up the skills of both her parent's trades, learning how to make deals with people and how to make basically anything needed for the home that could be done with a needle and thread.

Nadia grew to be shy and nervous around other people at first, but good-natured enough that she would make friends easily. She didn't spend much time in town, but she was known around as a kind, well-mannered girl. She was taken in a reaping that was happening during a visit into town with her father, when a Drakken who was collecting another girl decided that she was a better catch.

Other:
Though her element is fire, it doesn't seem to reflect in her personality as much as it does others of her element. She is shy and contains her thoughts and emotions very well, she does not call attention to herself on purpose and excels at blending in, at least among Gems. She is kind and gentle towards others, but also very fragile, both mentally and physically- she's afraid to use her power around other people. If someone were to say that Fire Gems are like a campfire or a blazing torch, then Nadia is a lit candle on a calm night.

Onyx Briyll

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element:
Earth
Height:
5'9"

Bio:
A librarian's daughter, her mother died when she was too young to remember, and her father was always busy with work around the city's library, so she was pretty much on her own for most of her childhood. With nothing else to do whenever she got bored, she taught herself how to read. She soon fell in love with the fictions she found, mysteries and adventures all just waiting to be read, feelings and images expressed on paper. She spent as much time as possible in the library, and that's where she was when the Drakkens came for her, lost in a fantasy. She didn't fight being taken at all, but only made one request- that she be allowed to bring her favorite book with her.

Other:
Onyx likes wordplay and writes poetry in her free time, her knowledge of books and fantasy making her very imaginative and childish when she wants to be. This fluidity of emotion and imagination makes it easy for her to come up with ideas and plans on the fly, and she's pretty good at lying too. She pictures herself as if the heroine of one of the novels she loves so much, and her confidence could be her downfall.

Zane Parnel

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
34
Element:
Fire
Height:
5'11"

Bio:
Zane is a merchant, just as his father was, and his father's father before him. He's also a part of a group that is pretty much convinced that the Drakkens will eventually make war on their peaceful country, a cult of sorts. His home -where he lives with his wife and their only child, Nadia- is just one part of a vast network of underground, hidden pathways and safe places which the cult uses to get around unnoticed, and could use to evacuate whole cities if needed. Zane himself is a messenger and a fighter for the group, using his travels as a merchant as a way to get across the border into other countries (mostly Drakka) and obtain information.

Other:
Zane's personality is a little unpredictable, though he is very good at keeping up an act. He is good at manipulation and negotiating deals. He has the fighting ability of the average member of the cult, though his role is much more subterfuge. His family doesn't know anything about the cult at all.

One could not find a less impressive looking Drakken if they were given a lifetime to search. Easily 6 inches shorter than most Drakken with short, stubby horns which he commonly covers with a hood or helmet, apparently out of shame. His build is also far less imposing and his arms far thinner than those of his taller brethren, lacking the same degree of muscle when compared to other drakken. At a glance one could be forgiven for not realising he was one of the Drakken and perhaps merely an extremely muscular if dull looking Gem. However, those seemingly mundane brown eyes hide a burning lust for power, supported by an expertise in military strategy and a sound grasp of how to weave his elemental powers into combat. The darkest creatures of the blighted south would be hard pressed match his brutality. - Description of Zakroti Unalim as given by a Gem Representative



Race:
Drakken
Age:
72
Element(s):
Fire, Earth
Height:
5'11

Bio:
Zakroti was easily identifiable as a runt upon his birth and in accordance with the wishes of his father, Orstaki Unalim, was to be left out to die in the elements. His mother managed to placate his father and convince him not to have the baby put to death.
His father abhorred him growing up and he was routinely looked down upon by his taller siblings, indeed Zakroti existed as a blot in his immediate families gaze. Outside of his immediate family, his other relations did not care much for him as he was simply another nephew or grandson and were it not for his remarkably small stature he doubted any would even remember his name.

His small size was and in many ways still is a source of humiliation for him and as a child he was only able to take solace in his mothers presence. She was one of the very few members of his family to show him any kindness and he was understandably devastated by her death despite her position in Drakken society being little better than a concubine.

On his 15th Birthday Zakroti led a small force of Drakken warriors across the border into the territory of a foreign peoples and sacked two small towns, returning with nearly one hundred and fifty slaves. The fledgling lord sent them off to his father as a gift. Grudglingly, his father acknowledged the achievement and granted the boy the holding of Mu'Fanla, a small fortress situated in the otherwise barren mountains to the south of his families holdings. Although this was somewhat impressive for a first military achievement, given that few expected to see him in any form of leadership role at any point in his life time and certainly not so young, he first rose to true prominence during a conflict in the western lands, in which he saved the life of a prominent noble and was gifted the holding of Mu'Kasi, a large fortress situate overlooking the pass out of Drakka and into the neighbouring territory. Zakroti exacted a toll on armies passing through and raised considerable funds from this, which drew the ire of several nobles.

Mu'Kasi was eventually levelled after the toll fees offended a particularly ill tempered noble, which resulted in a retaliatory campaign that culminated in a six month siege; The lord agreed to pay for the reconstruction of Mu'Kasi and Zakroti has been careful to ensure that it has a considerable garrison at any given time. By this point, a number of Drakken nobles and even a handful of members within his family had begun to see Zakroti's potential as an ally.

At age 50 an opportunity presented its self that Zakroti could not ignore; His father had fallen out of favour with the family and the king and, as such, Zakroti seized the chance and met in secret with a number of family members and Drakken nobles to hatch an insidious plot

With all the pieces on the board set, Zakroti challenged his father to honourable combat. As expected, his father refused; Consequently, Zakroti led a force of Drakken and mercenaries to sacked his fathers estate, winning in spite of the fact that his army was outnumbered two to one. The young lord had his father thrown into an oubliette where he allegedly remains to this very day.

Zakroti claimed dominion over his fathers lands and vassals by right of conquest and alleged that his father had refused to fight him out of cowardice. This was upheld by the family court which ruled in favour of Zakroti, though not out of any love for the young lord himself but rather so as to avoid invalidating a right of conquest claim that the family's head was pursuing; His father had already fallen out of favour after refusing to commit his forces to a war effort two years prior and so this was considered to be an acceptable trade. Further, two key family members with positions in court had been amongst those who conspired with Zakroti to bring about his fathers downfall.

A considerable number his siblings refused to accept the leadership of their runt of a brother and openly rebelled against him and by extent the ruling of the family court. As such, Zakroti engaged in a half decade long internal war of stabilisation with the nominal support of his grandfather. This war was drawn out by repeated outside interference as many Drakken nobles joined the war on various sides simply for the joy of fighting or in order to further their own ambitions. The war ended with the Sack of his brother Lalika's estate, crushing the final credible threat to his rule.

The consolidation that followed this infighting resulted in Zakroti having five of his brothers and three of his sisters hung, drawn and quartered. Two of his brothers were forced to eat pieces of their own skin as they were flayed alive. Lalika himself was sewn into a bag along with various venomous serpents and diseased animals before being tossed into the river and washing off downstream into the ocean; His body was later found washed up on Gemminite shores, shrivelled up like a prune. Zakroti had two of his sisters publically defiled and enslaved, giving them off to be handed around the Drakken nobles who had supported his side in the rebellion. Initially, Zakroti had planned to engage in a war with the nobles who had supported his brothers cause, however the Drakken Court had been planning a major offensive and did not wish to see their numbers decreased by the infighting and thus passed down an official order to prevent further escalation. This edict officially declared Zakroti to be the rightful successor of his father by right of conflict in order to prevent any further infighting. Asa result both sides reluctantly backed down with neither willing to incur the ire of the Drakken Court or King, knowing that they would be all too willing to crush the weakened lords if given an excuse. The Court, however, did not force the family to accept Zakroti onto its internal council and as such Zakroti was not allowed to claim his fathers seat under the pretence that it still de jure belonged to his living father

Regardless, resistance had been crushed and many had been sent to meet Krenta during these efforts. Any siblings that still harboured misgivings about his position wisely fell silent after this; After all, the strong rule in Drakka. With his position finally secured, Zakroti spent his 55th birthday plotting out reconstruction efforts and rebuilding his power base in preparation for another conflict

Towards the end of his 71st year, Zakroti pledged his armies to his families cause during an invasion of the dreaded south and was elevated in status due his exceptional performance, finally being allowed to claim his fathers seat and thus a member of the family court and gaining significant prestige as a result. With his new station came the privilege (and indeed, the obligation) of taking a bride or several. Zakroti was ordered by his great grand father, the head of the family and one of the powerful Drakken warlords, to take at least one Gem Bride from the next group of selectees, a decision the lord is somewhat reluctantly obeying. Indeed, Zakroti has shown little interest in taking a bride outside of the pure pragmatic value.

Other:
Zakroti's small stance and the humiliation that was derived from it has led to the development of a superiority complex; That is to say, he presents an elevated sense of importance in order to mask his underlying fears of inferiority. As such his primary driving force was to find some validation in the world, to find some way in which he doesn't always feel so... Weak. He found that power and brutality brought him reslect and fear, and has cloaked himself in the two ever since.
Zakroti holds a considerable envy of the Gems due to the condition of their homeland, though purely because he believes Gemminia would serve as a better powerbase than Drakka as it would be able to support more people and in turn field larger armies, though this view has proven to be unpopular among the Drakken and thus he is usually rather quiet about it.
As a slave trader, Zakroti has made an immense fortune trafficking in human prisoners. He and augments his warriors with an army of slave soldiers and uses his money to hire bands of mercenaries. This huge military potential coupled with his penchant for trading in slaves has made him a widely feared and despised Lord.
Zakroti is the Muth (Duke) of Varlasmoras and Orth (Count) of Varlasmoras and Qearakas

Race:
Gem

Age:
20

Element(s):
Air

Height:
6' 2"

Bio:
Val grew up in a sort-of 'cult' of the more paranoid members of the Gem race- the ones that always expected the Drakkens to go to war against them. For the most part, they were completely and totally secret, only occasionally recruiting members throughout the ages, keeping a small force trained and ready to go. The cult, of sorts, was called the Pasirengimas Pabaiga- "Preparation of the End." They wanted to be prepared when the Drakkens finally decided to attack the Gems as a whole, and thus had far-reaching roots in major families and communities. Because of the great wisdom the elders had, this held an advantage- they believed that violence wouldn't happen anytime soon, if at all, but saw the value in having some armed force ready to go.

Val grew up in this secret community, which dwelled in the hearts of multiple of the largest cities, and the largest forests. They were few-numbered, but they kept a long vigil, making alliances with Gems within the Drakken lands, and sometimes with Drakken themselves, promising power to them, should they ever help them in the downfall of their superiors. Sometimes it worked; sometimes Drakken went missing. Either way, Val was trained using weapons long since forgotten, with techniques long since passed, against an enemy that had changed surprisingly little.

Val, among others, was taught a wide array of skills suitable for assassination, espionage, commanding, or front-line fighting. Each of the members of the cult should be able to perform a wide variety of tasks, in the event of Drakken war- which is exactly what's happening.

During the latter half of Val's current lifespan, he moved from one of the forest outposts to one of the many mountainous bunkers of sorts, dug out over centuries as secret places to defend Gem from the Drakken. Here, he learned the more brutal sides of things- practice fights often ended with blood being shed. They learned how to hunt, how to sneak, how to snap a Drakken's neck. They beat captured Drakkens to a pulp, and they used ancient techniques from a long-past time to wield blades whose secrets to forging have been lost- khopeshes.

Being surprisingly sane for a cultist, Valence was chosen to serve as his generation's leader, and to begin working against the Drakken. Things were changing; subtle warnings via dreams began plaguing the cult, until they all vanished- and soon after, they found out the Drakkens were coming.

Valence was, throughout his training, a very dedicated, undistracted pupil, who was a natural at fighting and warfare. Some other cultist Gems would whisper that he was a Drakken in Gem skin; he let the rumors continue on their merry way, ignoring them in favor of more training- if people were scared of and respected you, they would be that more likely to follow you in the heat of battle. He had an unusual drive to be the best he could be- his teachers often told him that he was Pyrus's champion, the one that'd save them all. He knew they didn't mean it; they wanted to encourage him to be better, to do more, but he still took it to heart.

Other:
The cult numbers close to two thousand, all across the lands of the Gem. Up to three hundred are stationed within the various 'fortresses' within the mountains on either side of the Gem-Drakken pass, hiding and waiting, training new recruits. Meanwhile, the other ~1700 or so Gems of the cultist live normal lives among the people, sit in outposts across the land, or work in Drakken or other nations to keep war from coming, or to delay it.

They actually receive fairly decent support from the water royalty, seeing the sense in the cult's motto- "Offer one hand in peace, and arm the other." The cult does nothing more than keep a sort-of 'Elite' group of soldiers at the ready, prepare hiding places for the population, and construct weapons and armor in secret, for the day that Drakkens, or others, will invade.

"What's this?! Oh, my! Ohhhh... A glorious painting of the glory of war! Look at that brutal streak of scarlet glittering outside the flawless rings of this rich yellow burst! Tell me, worthless one, what message of battle does this masterpiece aim to convey?"

"M-my Lord... t-this... uhhh... is just a sunrise..."

-A conversation between Cuwarr and an artist in Gem.





Race

Age

Element(s)

Height


Bio
The Naxremis clan grew to prominence among the families in Drakka through their intricate and sophisticated understanding of the weapons of war. The family Naxremis delved in the art of weapon-crafting, smithing out deadly and gruesome claymores, axes, recurves, and arrows. Every twist, every inch of detail and metal in each weapon had a brutal purpose-- whether to tear tissues on contact, or to cause the victim to bleed out on the spot among others. Thus, as the Naxremis grew in strength and influence, Stezius, the past leader, grew complacent with his weapons' quality. Confident that the drakkens were too stupid to notice the drop in quality within their weapons, Stezius held back on materials and resources, eventually hoarding a great portion of all minerals for himself whilst causing the arms to easily break and bend. During one of the battles, the Naxremis' weapons were naught but dull, and as such, the drakkens had to resort to unarmed combat (a battle they still won, by the way). Thus, the warlords seized Stezius, and incarcerated him for producing weapons sub par to the glorious fighting skills of their nation. Without a clan head, the young Cuwarr was left to inherit his father's chair in the dishonored Naxremis name.

Cuwarr was unlike any other drakken in terms of their art of war. While most drakkens preferred the usual guillotine-esque slashes, and one hit, one kill manoeuvres, Cuwarr saw something in the crimson field: a sense of meaning and purpose. Surely, war was not only about lifting a sword and swinging it at enemies; no, war was about sending a message to the cowards and infants of the less significant tribes-- a message that will forever imprint the gore that the drakkens left on the field of blood. Every death on the field deserved a beautiful passage towards the afterlife of cowards! Every cut must be felt in a certain body part, and every slice must build towards a climactic end. There should be a pattern, a drawing! After all, their enemies' bodies were nothing but flailing canvases! Why waste such willing blank slates, when you could leave your masterpiece there forever?

Thus, fuelled by a lunatic's drive for art in war, Cuwarr set about straightening the slacking skills of the naxremis weapon and armour smiths. The warriors may have forgotten the fear of a twisted and vicious edge of a serrated claymore during Stezius' droll reign, but as the grand artist, Cuwarr, took to the reins of the clan, all of them remembered the feeling of a wind-cutting blade. Of course, Cuwarr refuses to merely share his art to the drakkens alone (which was like throwing pearls in front of swine), but he also smuggles them to other tribes where he gains immense profits from it. Naturally, Cuwarr denied all accusations, and besides, all of his critics were short-lived (in that, they lived a short life).

However, the repetition of the boring and cliché life of the drakkens began to gnaw at Cuwarr's heart. And, he thirsted for more exposure and experiences aside from just artfully killing their enemies. Thus, he joined in one of the expeditions towards the land of the Gem. There, he became enthralled and fascinated by miniature, painted canvases. These paintings, as what the gemminites fearfully told him, brought out unspoken feelings inside Cuwarr, and his mouth opened at such a sight. The canvas, so brightly painted with gradients of red and yellow incited terrific and inspiring feelings of war and victory within the warlord, and he couldn't help but take all of the paintings (without paying, naturally). Cuwarr wondered how such a backward and weak race could house so much artistic talent that not even Cuwarr, himself, could surpass. He drooled at all the magnificent statues and architectures, and, painstakingly, Cuwarr admitted to himself that his art was pathetic compared to all of these.

However, if he could learn the art of these gemminites, his work could transcend war and victory! His work would be remembered for all battles and massacres to come! People would call his art sublime, phenomenal, and perfect! Turned on by the thought, Cuwarr decided to take a bride for himself, if only because that gemminite woman could teach him the art and splendour that Cuwarr could never find in his plain and predictable nation.

Other
-Cuwarr wears a translucent piece of intricately designed cloth over his eyes. This doesn't really do anything other than make him look ridiculous, but he wears it for a certain 'artistic' purpose.
-Cuwarr is calmer as compared to his drakken kindred, but he does share the same bloodlust and thirst of war as his nation. He has a longer fuse, but he is often sadistic in terms of making his enemies suffer. Also, he is a crude-mouthed person.
-Cuwarr prides himself in his marksman or archery skills. While he is experienced with the blade, his real ability lies in his bow, dubbed as the Paintbrush, and his arrows, dubbed as the Paint. He can accurately shoot a target from over a hundred yards away. However, his raw strength is weaker than most of his comrades, but he can still hold his own.

Note: Her eyes are actually mostly silvery grey with flecks of pink and blue, giving them a violet hue from a distance, though close up one can easily see the three conflicting colours.
Race:
Gem
Age:
19
Element(s):
Water
Height:
5'4



Other:
Lienna has some trouble with reading and numbers, as she never had the opportunity to go to school or access many books. She fears that her illiteracy might get her into trouble. Her preferred use of her elemental magic is freezing water into ice, and her pale white hair/skin and strange eyes are due to albinism, making her look somewhat odd, but posing as a rare beauty nonetheless.

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5"10

Bio:
Kalani was raised by two Fire Gemminites who only expected the very best from their only daughter. While they were strict in raising her, Kalani managed to flourish and even exceed their expectations. Kalani grew up to be a beautiful, independent, and proud woman. She was ready to take on the world when she was Chosen, much to her dismay. Her parents, though upset at first, knew that they had to give up their daughter and sternly told her that even though it was not what she wanted, she had to be the best at whatever she ended up doing; be the best Gem bride she could be. Whether or not she listened to their advice, we'll find out soon.
Other:
Kalani is a passionate perfectionist; expecting only the best from herself.
However in regards to other people, she is more cynical and doubts they have any true capabilities.
She is also fiercely competitive.

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
19
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5'8"

Bio:
Full of life and brimming with energy, Kasari's family is known for their bolder than average personalities and the fire behind their eyes. A lively bunch, Kasari grew up surrounded by love and laughter, a sentiment readily spread to their neighbors and community. For the most part they were able to keep themselves in check, however the Liesma family could be too bold for their own good and had pulled the suspicion of a few Drakken passing through on more than one occasion. Kasari herself could be found working alongside her father and elder brother as an equal despite the strenuous tasks Gemminites of the fire element were allotted. This being said, she was just as graceful as she was powerful when it came to the art of dance. Once a year, the community would gather to pray to their patron god of Fire usually moving carefully so as not to draw too much attention from Drakken scouts. It was at the most recent of these gatherings that a Drakken scout happened across the scene, liking what he saw and deciding that Kasari would make a perfect Bride for the next Reaping. Mere days after they came for her, tearing her kicking and screaming from her equally distraught family.

Other:
Kasari is quite attached to a pet lizard she had found in the garden as a child. His name is Leo.

((BTW, wings not included with this model. XD At least not naturally grown.))



Race:
Drakken

Age:
105

Element(s):
Water and Air

Height:
6’7”

Bio:
Azilon isn’t what you’d call a typical Drakken warrior. His love for war and battle is present but it is the way he prefers to go about it that differs so greatly. He earned his title of “The Wraith” in one of many battles with the restless south, his name infamous amongst those present at the time.

Rumors spread of a warrior who strayed from the main force to terrorize a small village a little out of their ways. When the force finally found him, he was surrounded by the bodies of the villagers who had apparently attacked each other or committed suicide. Not much is actually known about the man aside from rumors and speculation, even his face is a mystery as he doesn’t show it very often even amongst fellow warriors.

According to said speculation Azilon’s patron god is Krenta, and it is unknown whether he prays to any other god. What is known about the man, however, is that he has never once shown up to a Gem Reaping… Not that he hasn’t earned a bride, but it has been assumed he was uninterested at the time. But as the winds shift towards war, it seems Azilon’s days in the shadows might come to a brief end as he makes a rare appearance to what just might turn out to be the very last Reaping.

~~~

Most of what is known about Azilon comes from speculation and rumors, however his reality tells a slightly different tale. A Drakken infamous for his unwillingness to appear before others stems from a childhood under a ruthless father figure. He had been the product of a Gem Reaping, a Lady of the Water by the name of Naomi. Like most Gemminites, she had been ripped from her familiar life to be thrust into the arms of a warrior that would only love her in the cruelest of ways. While pregnant with Azilon, she tried to flee her life under his strict rule but was ultimately caught and chained in the dungeon until Azilon was born.

Being the son of a "traitor Gem" Azilon was regularly beaten to ensure his loyalty to his father. As he grew, it became apparent that his body structure was naturally smaller than your average Drakken leading his father to keep the embarrassment hidden away in the dungeons with his mother (whom bit by bit was losing her mind). Her shrieking and crying began to effect the boy as he sat in the darkness, his boredom and Drakken ferocity getting the better of him. To pass the time he resorted to torturing his own mother to stave off the boredom and in the end killed her, earning him a new spot in his father's eyes.

As soon as he was able, Azilon left to live on his own, taking up residence in the darkest forest the Drakken lands knew. It was this seclusion from the world added up with the sadistic way he killed his enemies that resulted in the many rumors about his cold and heartless demeanour... But is he really heartless? Or is he still just that lonely child chained up in the dungeon?

Other:
He has no wives prior, but enough slaves to keep his home comfortable. He makes his home in the Svartálfar Forest, the darkest region in the Drakken homeland, and requires his household to pray to one or both of two gods: Krenta or Norric.

(Dragon not included this time xD)


Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Air
Height:
5'4"

Bio:
Sorrin is a sweet girl who was raised by her aunt since the age of 6, having lost both her parents in a tragic accident. She wasn't the brightest kid but there was something about her that made those around her smile. Easily distracted by the world around her Sorrin was always getting lost, running into things or leaving something behind, but she never failed to remember the important things about another person. Unfortunately, she selfless and caring nature leaves her wide open to being taken advantage of. She's incredibly gullible and easy to forgive others in most cases; hurt an animal or child, however, and you will see a girl very different from the normally docile Sorrin.

Due to the nature of the accident that took her parents from her, a landslide that trapped the family for several days, Sorrin is afraid of the dark and doesn't react well to small and enclosed spaces. Whenever the nights get too dark for her, Sorrin's only source of comfort is a song that her mother used to sing to her when she was younger. On moonless nights she can be heard humming or singing it to herself in private, to nervous to ever sing in front of others.
Other:
N/A

Aubree Lamay

Race:
Gem
Age:
19
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5’9”

Bio:
It had never been a question on if Aubree was selected, only a matter of when. From the time she was old enough to know that she was pretty, Aubree knew that her fate and future lay not in her homeland, but that of their neighbors and overlords, the drakkan. It was a common thing that occurred for female members of the Lamay family, which had only survived though the male line alone. It was a sick joke that the Lamay's mothered half the Drakkan alive today. Since the history of the deal, none had every bore a Gem.

If she had been ever sad about it though, it passed the day she met Allie. The shy girl who blushed something fierce when Bree told her she was pretty. But it was the truth, from the first time Bree saw her, she knew Allie to be the most beautiful girl in Bree’s entire world. Together, they convinced themselves that the selection was not something to fear, but rather, the start of their true lives.

Much of Bree's childhood was filled with all the learnings of the drakken that were available to the gems. She was well versed in the history, lore, religion and most of the prominent culture traits. Taught to her to make the transition as smooth as possible. All of this information she shared openly and freely with Allie. As soon as they were old enough, the two girls took their studies even further. Researching how things such as how brides were selected and basic psychology of the Drakken race. After all, if they were going to be selected together, they would have to be prepared.

They planned for every thing that would occur after they were selected to be brides. The best course of action to ensure they were selected by the same drakken husband. They choreographed exactly how the first night would play out, creating a system to ensure they would always have enough time for each other at the end of the day. They studied different plants that could be turned into balms that would keep tried husbands sleeping while the mice played. Beyond even that, they discussed at length the various methods they could be used in training a Drakken without him noticing, often using angry bulls as testers for their techniques.

As the year passed, and their time drew nearer, their plans became more vivid, discussing at length all the things they would do to each other, beyond kissing. Have planned to save each other for their first night of sisterwives. Whatever had to happen with their husband was always thought of as a price to pay for being able to love each other fully, each and everyday.

When the day came though…all their plans fell apart.

They didn’t choose Allie. They didn’t even look twice at her. They just took Bree and left.

It took the whole journey for Bree to figure out what her next step was: She was going to spin a tale of the most beautiful girl in the world. One her husband couldn't live without. It might take a year, maybe two, but she would have her love again.

Race:
Gemminite
Age:
18
Element(s):
Fire
Height:
5'2"

Bio:
If you believed that most if not all Gemminites were naught but some peace-loving, air-headed fools then Atallia is the living argument against that. Born in the north to the Faeron clan, she was taught from a young age that living under the boot of the Drakken was a nefarious business - they could either remain passive and wait until the boot stomped down or they could push back. Her family were one of the few in the whole nation that argued for the latter. After losing a sister to the Drakken, her father imbued within her that the continuation of the Drakken's very existence was a mockery to the Earth.

Despite those rather serious lessons and the pressures of raising a daughter who was very clearly beautiful, her parents were good to her and gave her freedom to explore the world around her. It could have been the fire flowing through her but it seemed that from the outset, she was a flighty little thing with no regards for danger or rules. It landed her in more trouble than it was worth but she had quite a bit of fun annoying neighbours and numerous townsfolk.

As she grew, Atallia didn't really change. Granted, she garnered a bit more attention from the males --a harsh curse that she remained unaware of-- and although she was a little more likely to wear a dress, you could almost always expect her to be causing a ruckus. Her ascent to womanhood was grateful, at best, but instead of just echoing the dying embers of rebellion, she became a soaring ember - something that the Gemminites could stand behind. Quick-witted and armed with a tongue sharp enough to draw blood, very little people could hold up an argument against her. Like a roaring flame, she was unpredictable and answered to no one. No one, that is, until the Drakken guards came calling.

Talli had heard the stories like any Gemminite child of how the Drakken came and took their brides from the beautiful swathes of Gemminite youth. She had heard the stories of the Huron families and how girls suffered a life of abuse that was only ceased upon pregnancy. And the Zagmars, who became known as the "Defilers" for the fact that their brides went through horrors of catastrophic levels and more often than not, bucked under the pressure. Naturally, she didn't credit herself with much in terms of beauty but she was enough to warrant being chosen to become a bride. Strangely, as she was taken, she didn't fight or argue - this was an opportunity for her. Her intent was abnormal. She was going to show her people that they should not fear the Drakkens; she was going to have them hesitate the next time they picked their wives and there was no way in Hell she was going to destroy some light-hearted fellow.

She would find the best of them and tear him a new one.

Other:
Atallia has a tattoo of a dragon upon her left shoulder. The origins of said tattoo will probably be explained IC.
Her eyes are a gold colour but they've been known to light to a powerful red when she's particularly angry.
Isn't the strongest in terms of magic but has enough cunning and tactical genius to use it where it counts.

Race:
Drakken
Age:
146
Element(s):
Fire
Wind
Height:
6'7"

Bio:
It was said that the Drakken throne had been built on the bones of thousands of their enemies, sacrificed to the Old Gods when the wicked thing was formed. Rynek would have been envious of his brother who was destined to sit atop it if it wasn't for the fact that Rynek had already made his peace with the dead - it was the living he craved. There's an art to killing that can't be ignored. The thick stench of death that airs the nose, the screams of dying men that enlightens the ears, the weight of a blood-drenched blade that has all cower before you and the pleasure of taking a whore straight after killing; devine. Of course, if whores are in short supply, men nearly always have wives and daughters.

It's the job of the king to rule and the job of his brothers to issue his justice with blood and steel. Rynek himself was a weak thing at birth, a shame to his family. Thankfully, he wasn't slaughtered as his true powers revealed themselves only a few short years later. The boy was a vicious bastard with little to no care of others and his fighting displayed a cunning that outweighed that of even the harshest of Drakken fighters. He didn't have an ounce of honour but by damn was he a fine killer. His people were heavy things, capable of fighting with weapons that were nearly half their size but Rynek preferred the eloquent dance of the sword.

Trained for a couple of years by Wilheim the Black, considered the strongest Drakken in existence, Rynek was slowly moulded into a well-oiled killing machine with no regard who fell in front of his blade as long as someone did. Over the decades as he has fought and defended the throne of his brother, he has diverged away from the typical fighting styles of the Drakken and adopted styles from the far east - styles that his brothers couldn't even begin to perceive. Abandoning his bastard sword, he had a curved blade forged and took up training in increasing his speed exponentially using his powers.

Every man has fell before him all except for one - his mentor Wilheim the Black. Being the only man to ever land a hit on the legendary warrior, Rynek has been placed as the second strongest Drakkan alive and is just as dreaded by his enemies. Despite his... psychopathic tendencies, his anger and lust for battle can quickly fade if he finds a pretty enough girl. Of course, she has to keep things entertaining or it typically won't end well for her.

As of now, Rynek is only returning from a long trek to the South to crush a king who thought that he could harass their southern borders. The war was long with well over five years of absence from the Prince.

Other:
Was rumoured to have urged his father to obliterate the Gemminite nation after hearing of the beauty of a princess there.
One of the few Drakkens with a sense of humour - although a brutal one at that.

Race:
Drakken

Age:
73

Element(s):
Water
Earth

Height:
5'8"

Bio:
All throughout the history of Drakka, there has been one defining factor - the strong will live and the weak shall perish. The small, the puny and the insignificant have no place in the Drakken machine. Their's is an early death to avoid shame. However, there will always be an exception. In Drakka, the strong live but the weak also live if the strong wish to protect them. It was only inevitable, then, that it was the strongest who chose to protect the weakest.

There's a story told to Geminite children in hushed voices in the quiet darkness of nightfall but it's uncertain on whether it intends to inspire fear or hope. There was once a great, horned warrior, proud and bitter. His way was of the blade and any who faced him met a cruel fate. He was a wicked man but his strength was such that total power was his. As the years went by, the power darkened the man until he became nothing more than a wraith, inflicting torment upon the weak and innocent. He married and bore two sons but still he darkened. Killing could no longer satisfy him - there was no sport in slaughtering the weak who could put up not a shred of resistance. So he called his men to his side and abandoned his home to find an enemy truly worth killing, an enemy worthy of his might. He found his enemy but what he found was something greater than he could have possibly imagined. They were camped close to the Gem capital and seeking the cover of an Inn for the night, the great warrior found a young Gem woman. Her hair was the colour of blood and fire danced in the green of her eyes. In that moment, the darkness collapsed and his icy heart was thawed.

He promised her the sun and the moon and gave her both - his days he would spend with her, hearing her sing and dance. His nights would be a passionate gift and they would be trapped in one another's arms. So blissfully unaware was he, that he forgot about his young family back home. Eventually, the young Gem fell heavy with child and the great warrior was called back to his homeland to answer warcries from the South. He became lost in his war but even he could see that he was no longer the same - he lacked desire to kill and his heart wandered back to his secret bride and child. Little did the great warrior know that his secret had already spread amongst the court. His wife, furious and sick with envy, summoned the Gem to the court at once. Such was her anger that she charged the girl with treason and stealing her own husband away from her. Before the warrior could stop her, she took his hunting blade and split the girl from end to end. In a pool of her own blood, she died smiling, her hands locked with the tiny hands of another, too young to even have her horns.

And, as it was, the darkness crept back into his heart and he sealed it once and all for love was no use for a bitter world that only knew pain and woe. His wife, giddy with bloodlust, raised her blade at the child next but the warrior was fast. His strike sent her reeling and in silent anger, he had the child guarded. She was a monument to his weakness, a reminder of his pain. She was his punishment from the Gods for believing that there was something more than death. In the first few nights, he found himself at her bedside, knife in-hand. He wanted nothing more than to end her, to forget what he had done, to cover his weakness but he could never quite do it.

And so, she grew, the bane of those around her. Her father could only see her mother in her and ashamed of his weakness and sin, he cast her aside. His response was of violence, a wicked upbringing that was better suited for the likes of her brothers. Her stepmother hated her with a passion that burned white-hot, her weapons were words, sharp and twisted. Her brothers weren't much better either. She was the runt, the weak thing that didn't even deserve their time. They kept her shielded, however, under orders from her father. The younger brother liked hurting people and given his royal burden, he hurt people that hurt her. He never really liked her and she was terrified of him but he wouldn't let anyone cross her or his family name.

Despite this, she survived. Changed greatly, of course, but survived nonetheless. Meek and timid, she was no true Drakken princess nor was she a legitimate child of the king. Her name was for her position - the lowest of the low, a bastard.

The great warrior aged and bittered, his heart growing darker by the day. Violence could be beat into any child, he insisted, but anytime she raised a blade she was all-but uselesss. Eventually, he gave up, they all gave up and she was forgotten. She was a pretty young thing and the occassional suitor who reckoned his chances offered to take her from the warrior but each one was declined. The suitors forgot about her too and by maturity, she almost became a myth. Never seen by the public and locked away from those in better positions, she was only spoken about in tales and stories. Stories that were told with quiet voices - there weren't pleasant endings for those who spoke about where the little bastard came from.

Eventually, the warrior deemed that she was useless to him and she had to find her own way in the world. Not knowing a single thing about the culture and society of those around her, she sought the help of the only person to ever help her. Her brother had gotten crazier since she saw him last but despite this, he insisted that she attend the collection of Geminite brides with him. Too meek and unknowing, she agreed.

Other:
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