{Kaivor Igvrius}
(props to the OG artist, for this. Also, ignore that tail)
Race:
Drakkan
Age:
203
Element(s):
Water and Earth
Height:
6’ 11”
Bio:
The Igvrius family is an old one, but the name had no real weight until Kaivor’s father and grandfather performed outstandingly well in the war with the Anathos. His grandfather didn’t live to see the end of the war, but his father was still young-ish and was able to reap the benefits of their service. Wealth, and power, but certainly not health. Kaivor’s father suffered from a persistent respiratory issue all his life, as well as issues with fertility. He had several Gemmenite wives, and he only managed to produce three children near the end of his life. The eldest of these was Kaivor.
As he grew up, his dying father spoke to him about the Drakka of his childhood, when there’d been no king. He was trained from an early age in the ways of combat, but has seen little in the way of actual fighting. He started to take after his father’s ideals, that Drakkan should never be a unified land, and that the only worthwhile opponents left were other Drakken.
His father died when Kaivor was fifty. The Drakkan was sickly, and old, but he stumbled outside and forced one of his servants to duel him. The servant was untrained, but he still easily bested and killed the dying Igvrius. Kaivor made sure news got around that his father wasn’t, in fact, ill or frail, but that he died in a fair duel.
As Kaivor grew, so too did his beliefs. He decided that the concept of a king was inherently un-Drakken. Drakken were meant to fight, and the Gemmenites were far from worthy opponents. Until a real foe came about, a foe like the Anathos, Drakken were meant to fight amongst each other. He disliked the idea of the Gemmenite bride offerings, simply because it was orchestrated by the forces that united Drakka. Granted, it wasn’t as though he could come up with a better solution, much as he’s tried. He finds the idea of a new, Gemmenite, slave race to be more palatable than the current arrangement, but would never openly support an idea put forth by a prince.
Now, he’s ready to take a wife and has been offered the chance to do so. He was against the idea, at first, but it was his brothers who convinced him that an Igvrius heir was necessary.
Other:
-Kaivor fights with a pair of handaxes.
-Kaivor’s brothers are twenty-four and nineteen years younger than him, respectively.
Adult Content Preference: No preference. I'm flexible.
(props to the OG artist, for this. Also, ignore that tail)
Race:
Drakkan
Age:
203
Element(s):
Water and Earth
Height:
6’ 11”
Bio:
The Igvrius family is an old one, but the name had no real weight until Kaivor’s father and grandfather performed outstandingly well in the war with the Anathos. His grandfather didn’t live to see the end of the war, but his father was still young-ish and was able to reap the benefits of their service. Wealth, and power, but certainly not health. Kaivor’s father suffered from a persistent respiratory issue all his life, as well as issues with fertility. He had several Gemmenite wives, and he only managed to produce three children near the end of his life. The eldest of these was Kaivor.
As he grew up, his dying father spoke to him about the Drakka of his childhood, when there’d been no king. He was trained from an early age in the ways of combat, but has seen little in the way of actual fighting. He started to take after his father’s ideals, that Drakkan should never be a unified land, and that the only worthwhile opponents left were other Drakken.
His father died when Kaivor was fifty. The Drakkan was sickly, and old, but he stumbled outside and forced one of his servants to duel him. The servant was untrained, but he still easily bested and killed the dying Igvrius. Kaivor made sure news got around that his father wasn’t, in fact, ill or frail, but that he died in a fair duel.
As Kaivor grew, so too did his beliefs. He decided that the concept of a king was inherently un-Drakken. Drakken were meant to fight, and the Gemmenites were far from worthy opponents. Until a real foe came about, a foe like the Anathos, Drakken were meant to fight amongst each other. He disliked the idea of the Gemmenite bride offerings, simply because it was orchestrated by the forces that united Drakka. Granted, it wasn’t as though he could come up with a better solution, much as he’s tried. He finds the idea of a new, Gemmenite, slave race to be more palatable than the current arrangement, but would never openly support an idea put forth by a prince.
Now, he’s ready to take a wife and has been offered the chance to do so. He was against the idea, at first, but it was his brothers who convinced him that an Igvrius heir was necessary.
Other:
-Kaivor fights with a pair of handaxes.
-Kaivor’s brothers are twenty-four and nineteen years younger than him, respectively.
Adult Content Preference: No preference. I'm flexible.
{Aryll Imaali}
(Art isn’t mine. Definitely not. Many thanks to the artist.)
Race:
Gem
Age:
18
Element(s):
Earth
Height:
5’ 3”
Bio:
Aryll was born in the (CAPTIAL) to a pair of unscrupulous merchants from a long line of even more merchants of questionable business ethics. Though it was often spoken with distaste, anyone who did business near the capital knew the name Imaali. She grew up comfortably, and received the best education that her parent’s money could buy. She became proficient with numbers and coin, and a skillful barterer.
Despite her parent’s best efforts to ensure the contrary, she made friends among the rabble that congregated in market places. She knew the farmers and the fishermen, the smiths and the artisans. Naturally, she grew, and around the time she turned seventeen she’d found a lover in a skinny potter’s apprentice named Sigmund.
For a year, her biggest worries were her father finding out about Sigmund, or the price of fish rising, or an especially taxing history lesson. Though she knew of the reaping, and feared it, she never dreamed it would happen to her. There were thousands of girls in the city, but she was unfortunate enough to catch a reaper’s eye and was immediately grabbed, a last minute addition to the girls taken that year. There was no time to say goodbye, not to her parents, not to any of her friends in the markets, and certainly not to Sigmund.
At the time, it seemed surreal. It couldn’t actually be happening, not to her. As the journey east dragged on, the more real it started to seem. The more real it seemed, the more worked up she got. She was scared, terrified. But mostly angry, pissed. What right did these brutes have to take her from the life she’d been so happy in? None at all, so far as she’s concerned.
Other:
N/A
Adult Content Preference: No preference.
(Art isn’t mine. Definitely not. Many thanks to the artist.)
Race:
Gem
Age:
18
Element(s):
Earth
Height:
5’ 3”
Bio:
Aryll was born in the (CAPTIAL) to a pair of unscrupulous merchants from a long line of even more merchants of questionable business ethics. Though it was often spoken with distaste, anyone who did business near the capital knew the name Imaali. She grew up comfortably, and received the best education that her parent’s money could buy. She became proficient with numbers and coin, and a skillful barterer.
Despite her parent’s best efforts to ensure the contrary, she made friends among the rabble that congregated in market places. She knew the farmers and the fishermen, the smiths and the artisans. Naturally, she grew, and around the time she turned seventeen she’d found a lover in a skinny potter’s apprentice named Sigmund.
For a year, her biggest worries were her father finding out about Sigmund, or the price of fish rising, or an especially taxing history lesson. Though she knew of the reaping, and feared it, she never dreamed it would happen to her. There were thousands of girls in the city, but she was unfortunate enough to catch a reaper’s eye and was immediately grabbed, a last minute addition to the girls taken that year. There was no time to say goodbye, not to her parents, not to any of her friends in the markets, and certainly not to Sigmund.
At the time, it seemed surreal. It couldn’t actually be happening, not to her. As the journey east dragged on, the more real it started to seem. The more real it seemed, the more worked up she got. She was scared, terrified. But mostly angry, pissed. What right did these brutes have to take her from the life she’d been so happy in? None at all, so far as she’s concerned.
Other:
N/A
Adult Content Preference: No preference.
