(w/o the shield)
Name: Stian Berland
Age: 20
Class: Wyvern Rider
Level: 01
Personal Skill: Fiery Blood – When the user’s HP is not full, Damage +4.
Skills:Equipment:- Iron Axe
- Hand Axe
- Vulnerary (3)
Story:Stian was born in Malia (in the town of Narla in the country’s centre) to parents who were both hunters and warriors. For the first few years of his life, Stian’s childhood was such a common story, any citizen of Malia could accurately tell you it whether they knew Stian or not. He lived in harsh conditions, as did every other Malian. Stian learned first from his parents, then his peers and other adults. He was luckier than the strays for sure, but had nothing too remarkable going for them either. Perhaps a surprising amount of optimism. Stian learned the basics of unarmed combat, chose an axe for his main weapon. As most teenagers did, he eagerly joined on the hunting expeditions and helped in the occasional guard shift as soon as the adults let him do so.
This common tale became an uncommon one on the day The Wyvern appeared. While the beasts could certainly survive the harsh northern climates, they were most typically found in the mountainous regions to the south. Why one had flown all the way to Malia was unknown. Stian saw it fly overhead during one of the expeditions he was accompanying. The hunters and guards reported the happenings to the city, and it was cautiously decided that the beast should be either found and disposed of or captured alive and sold off. Stian suggested keeping it for themselves, but was rebuked on account of the resources the wyvern would cost.
The youth did not give up, however. Instead, he tracked the beast on his own, found its lair, and through sheer stubbornness and undaunted will, managed to get the old scarred wyvern to accept him. Stian revealed his success only to his parents, announcing he would leave Malia and become a sell-sword, which was the common Malian thing to do, though Stian’s reason was not quite so regular. Stian traveled southwards with his wyvern companion (newly named as Gamleen), earning money however and wherever he could. This nomad and sell-sword lifestyle led him quite naturally to eventually join the Red Branch Company, which offered a surer income in exchange for serving in riskier mission.
Sample Post:It was early winter, but the snow, ice, and morning mist were already a daily occurrence. Stian was securing Narla’s perimeter alongside several other (adult) guards. It was still afternoon, but getting dark already, and they would have to light torches soon. It was in that moment, as they turned to take a side-path around the town, when a high-pitched shriek sounded. It was similar to an eagle’s but louder, and soon the creature responsible for it could be seen as it flowed overhead. It wasn’t flying particularly low, and yet it appeared large. Too large. Stian was dumbfounded in awe as he recognized the shape as a wyvern – something he’d only heard of about till then.
He noticed his obvious distraction only as a sharp SMACK ringed in his ears, and his head was turned slightly from the impact.
“Stop gawpin’ silly, boy,” the culprit rumbled from almost a foot above him.
Stian directed a fierce scowl at the bulky man, though the blonde teenager’s expression was akin to a cute pout compared to the mild yet expressive frown the older dark-haired and long-bearded warrior was sporting.
“But Jonas, the wyvern!” the youth sulked, yet was unable to conceal the note of excitement when speaking of the winged dragon-relative.
Jonas grunted, spun on his heel, and moved ahead with the others as they had finally been able to calm the two horses accompanying the group.
“We’ll deal with it later, now’s time to finish our round,” the brute announced, leaving Stian to jog to catch up with him.
Stian was perfectly sure he knew what ‘dealing with it’ meant and was surprised to find he didn’t like it one bit. The wyvern had impressed him, even though he’d seen the greyish-white white creature for maybe the span of a half a minute. He found himself wanting it. He had already fixated on the idea that it could be human friendly.
However, his fears that the townsfolk would want to hunt it down proved true some hours later, when all the people gathered at the chieftains’ hall, a place usually dedicated to feasts and sometimes to meetings, the kind of which they were holding just then. It almost unanimously decided they would need to get rid of the wyvern.
And although Stian had suggested what he deemed the perfect alternative…
“Chief, what if we keep it for ourselves? I bet a flying mount would be useful.” but his idea was practically trampled on by the killer trio combo of their current leader’s cold glare (and coming from the chieftainess, the redhead beauty who had won her position by combat of trial, it was deeply devastating thing indeed), his father’s grown and his mother’s
“Hush you fool, we’re hunting it because we don’t want it to have none of our game! ‘Sides, meat or no meat, you can’t tame a wild wyvern, boy!” The red-headed leader of Narla shook her head.
"Even if it's tame already, we can't keep it. Dead or alive, we're capturing it, and selling it," was her only comment. The others were all excited about the idea of getting to fight a creature like that, but Stian remained convinced having it as a mount would be
way cooler.
It was then and there that Stian decided he would find the wyvern first, confirm if it was tame or not, then get it for himself in secret, all the while pretending he'd been convinced the creature should be hunted. He even used his well-known cockiness to brag and convince them of the lie:
“Well, if I can’t have it alive, I’ll cut off its head for a trophy myself!”And so, Stian had joined in on the wyvern-hunting expedition. However, this effort proved to take longer than expected. There were quite a few rumours of sightings, but no other evidence. No animal carcasses, no bloody trails, no tracks that would lead to the wyvern. The beast was smart enough to hunt at night and left nothing to hint at wherever its lair might be. In fact, it was suspected to have several hideouts, so that even if it was seen mid-flight, it could easily switch up its resting location soon after (and again, usually at night). As cunning as the wyvern was, there wasn't a single report of it harassing, heavily injuring or even killing a human. Thus it was presumed the wyvern was tame, and simply owner-less. Nonetheless, the Malians wanted it out of their territory one way or another.
It wasn’t until the following mid-spring that anyone had any kind of breakthrough. And it was either by luck or chance, or perhaps the blessing of a deity, that Stian found it as he was investigating one of the recent rumoured sightings by himself. The wyvern was standing at the edge of a cliffside cavern, gazing at the sunset, the range of pale blue, pink, orange and crimson slowly fading into obscurity behind the western sea-line.
Stian approached it carefully, but the wyvern gave no reaction behind a single tail-swish.
“Hey, wyvern?!” the teenager shouted at it. In answer, the lizard-like creature barely turned its head, seemingly reluctant to cease its observation of the admittedly stunning sunset. However, its action was enough that it focused a single baleful eye on Stian, then boomed a deep grumble, the kind a dragon might issue before blowing a fire-full directly into someone’s face.
“Hey, hey, easy, handsome,” Stian tried placating it. The wyvern stomped the ground and clawed at it, but with the way it threw its head back Stian figured it both understood and was pleased by the compliment.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s right, you’re real beautiful. The others either want to capture and sell you off as a pet or kill you, but not me. I figure you're just lonely having lost your owner, right? So why not let me be your rider?”At this, all Stian perceived was a larger-than-the-average-horse sized white blur come at him, and a second later felt a sharp sting as four lines were carved into his face. He promptly fell right to his ass, gasping in shock, forgetting all about the wyvern as he checked if his face was still attached. The blood was flowing freely, but the cuts were surprisingly shallow, no deeper than if some huge but pissed off cat had attacked him.
This thing could’ve easily ripped me to shreds! He knew that for a fact and it took a couple of moments for his panic to recede, and the reason to kick back in.
But it didn’t. So, just a warning? Or it doesn’t see me worthy? Either way, Stian’s humiliation only fuelled his anger, and he stood up, then drew his axe, gripping it tightly in both hands as he faced square-footed and straight-backed against the wyvern.
“Ya think I’m too young and stupid too, huh? Just like all the rest,” he ranted at the wyvern, which stared down at him with a calm belied by its spread wings and swishing tail.
“Yeah, well, I’ll show you. I’ll hurt you and I’ll tire you down, till you can’t move an inch. Then I’ll bring ya some meat. That’s right, I’ma feed you, buddy. You’ll see, I’m strong. And I can take care of you. So just give it up! Be my companion!” Stian exclaimed in fervor, simply winging it at this point. The wyvern bared its fangs, approached, but did not attack.
Rather, it simply stared. Stian didn’t know how long they stood there, neither willing to back down. His arms burned and his eyes watered, but he knew he had to show he meant it, otherwise the wyvern probably would kill him for real. To this day, Stian couldn’t tell you how long the stare-off lasted for.
But he did know he fulfilled the self-made promise to bring a trio of hares to the wyvern the next time he visited it.
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