Tuddums

[Ebonfort] Give a Leg Up

A smirk graces Genrit's lips at the thought of him being from a distant land. He truly is a curious specimen at this rate. How many other dragons or even other creatures out there have been frozen for as long as he has? He'll leave that fact on the side for now, figuring it to be too distracting while he's trying to learn about Pyresia. His smirk fades when the copper dragon mentions the dwindled population of dragons and his body shifts in place, moving to a sitting position as he considers this. Genrit briefly entertains the thought of whether or not he would have survived the death of magic if he had been free to roam during that time. If it really was as dangerous as it sounds, maybe him being frozen was more a blessing than a curse. That's not to say he's grateful for the act at all. He's still as furious about it as ever.

His smooth line of thought comes to a screeching halt when he's informed that there are thousands of dragons living in Pyresia. His body stills and he stares blankly at Harrok, practically looking through him. His breathing slows, becoming uneven. Thousands of dragons living together? He hardly believes that he's sitting and having a conversation with two other dragons for reasons other than challenging territories. Thousands... How would...? But...? Genrit doesn't even hear the rest as he stares through him, his head starting to pound. He's not sure if he should feel outrage or confusion, though right now he's leaning more towards confusion. His head tilts down as he starts to look at the floor, fresh smoke spilling out from the corners of his mouth. He genuinely tries to envision a group of dragons living together, but it makes no real sense to him. It's not that he's going out of his way to force the idea out of his head, he just can't imagine living so close to other dragons. He would feel trapped.

He blinks a few times when the healers are mentioned. He's brought out of his momentary daze and he looks back up. His head curves back to look at his injured leg and a deep grumble resonates from his throat. He doesn't particularly relish being crippled on account of a rash move. Especially one done to kill such a nauseating specimen. He sighs, a plume of smoke escaping as he does so. Genrit returns his attention to the dragons in front of him and he speaks. His words are slow, chosen very carefully.

"I would like to start by saying that the thought of thousands of dragons living together disgusts me. Even more-so with other species." One of his claws scratches against the earth beneath him idly. "This news comes as such a shock to me not because I come from a distant land. In the cave we are standing besides I was attacked and frozen for three hundred years. This caused me to miss the death of magic and awaken upon its return. I come from a time when dragons would live in isolation, only meeting to breed and raise a child. So I'm sure you will be able to understand my distaste towards how our race has changed." He stops scratching the ground and his tone changes, becoming more firm. "However. I am wounded, I cannot deny this. I understand that if I am not treated I will have a limp until the day I die. If you are presenting me with an opportunity to avoid this fate I would be inclined to visit this city, regardless of my feelings towards it." His gaze turns distasteful for a brief moment, but quickly returns to a more neutral one. "I have nothing to offer in return, however."

He finishes, uncertain if he said what he wanted to correctly. He has never had to speak this much all at once, never having had a conversation that required it. He really just wants to get across that he hates what dragons have become, but he is willing to accept help from them. Because at the end of the day, they are still dragons. And he has enough respect for them to at least co-operate. Besides, there's a morbid curiosity surrounding Pyresia. He's also curious as to whether the dragons will eventually choose to separate once more now that magic has returned. Hmmm...

[Ebonfort] Give a Leg Up

The air of boredom coming from the female dragon starts making Genrit feel a bit tired of this himself. He breathes slowly from his nose and his mouth shuts as he listens. His eyes transfer between the other two dragons, taking note of their marked wings. They remind him of a time when he was much younger and accidentally got blood on his wings. He was unable to find a source of water big enough for him to properly clean it so he had to just deal with it for a little over a year. He assumes that these specific markings are for identification or status in some way.

The congratulations, though half-hearted, prompt a small smirk as his eyes look down at the decapitated head next to all of them. The smirk doesn't stay for long at the mention of needing to make his claim "official" by visiting the city of dragons. So it is real. A grumble rolls up his throat in distaste but he holds his tongue as the copper dragon speaks. He wouldn't admit it, but the attitude of these two dragons is rather... Unnerving to him. To see other dragons working together in some way other than to raise a child or push out another dragon whose behavior is detrimental to both of them is new to him. The feeling is only made worse knowing that they come from an entire city of dragons who have renounced the dragon lifestyle.

Morbid curiosity begins to form as he briefly considers his response to Harrok Mojavico and Sky Talon Vesenthicar. He wonders if his heart or mind would be able to handle the sight of such a place, though he's curious as to the nature of all those who live there. His claw taps on the stone beneath him a few times before he responds. His head turns to the copper one as he speaks. He sees no point in directing his thoughts to the bored blue dragon as he assumes everything he gets will be dull in nature at best. Not to mention that he doesn't take their ranks into consideration at all. Until he sees them fight and one conquers the other, they're of the same value in his eyes. "Genrit'khaath. A pleasure to meet you, Harrok Mojavico." He briefly hesitates as he's uncertain as to how one would talk about a weird thing like a city of dragons. "This city of yours..." He pauses again and his eyes flick between the two of them as he takes a deep breath, calmly exiting the cave and into the warmth of the sun. His wet scales shine and he refocuses on the copper dragon.

"Does this city of yours truly exist? I'm still having trouble believing that dragons would stoop so low as to live together, let alone ally with Dwarves." Genrit's tone is one of genuine curiosity. His disposition towards dragons is significantly more relaxed and positive than it is towards the other races. Unless they're competing for territory, of course. Depending on how things go he might almost be friendly. Imagine that.

[Ebonfort] Give a Leg Up

Genrit's body freezes mid action as he hears the faint sounds of Draconic outside of his cave. He's resting in one of the pools of water that remain, washing whatever blood is left off of his body. He's been in it long enough for it to start bubbling, looking rather inviting. Water drips off of his horns and onto stone as his head turns towards the direction of the exit. He can tell that there are at least two dragons outside. Either that or some other creatures that have learned his language. His body rumbles as he climbs out and begins smoothly ascending, taking care not to put too much strain on his injury as he does. He can feel the magical presence of his visitors as he ascends, confirming that they are indeed dragons

Once he finally reaches the entrance he calmly turns around a corner, his pale eyes observing the copper dragon. He's sure that they sensed him too. His chin raises slightly and his chest puffs out as he gives the dragon a curious yet mostly condescending look. It's apparent he isn't too pleased by the sudden visitation. He notices the other dragon's intrigue in the severed head and grumbles before speaking. His deep voice is accompanied by some smoke puffing out of his mouth, the glow coming from inside his throat illuminating his rows of teeth somewhat. "What do you want, little one?"

[Ebonfort] Give a Leg Up

@Drache

[Ebonfort] Give a Leg Up

Starting Date and Time: 25th day of Vermillio, 300DM

Starting Location: Cave to the South of Pyresia.

CS URL: Genrit'khaath

Genrit’s pale eyes snap open. A bloodied head sits in front of him, the same mutilated skull of the dragon he faced almost a week ago. A short jolt of pain goes through his hind leg as he remembers their encounter. He’s still limping. He grumbles and pushes his huge body up, supporting himself with three of his four legs. He’ll have to remove the flesh and brain from the head soon, otherwise it’ll just turn into a rotting mess. As much as he enjoys staring into those worthless, dead eyes. He slides it to the side and crawls out of his cave. The warm sun is bliss against his scales, though he can’t help but feel uncomfortable because of the sensation of having some of his corroded flesh exposed. Genrit stares up at the sky and wonders to himself if he’ll always feel this sensation. It would be a cruel reminder of his actions.

Breathing deeply, his head cranes down to look at his scales. He needs metal. Both as a necessity and as a pick-me-up. A deep rumble rises from his chest as his claws press heavily against the rocky ground beneath him. He turns and extends his wings, flapping them and gaining height. It’s a relief to not have to put any more pressure on his injury. His eyes shut for a moment and he allows the periods of weightlessness sink in. The heat, the quiet, and the solitude. In this moment the blood soaked behemoth is reminded of just why he feels so much pride, both for himself and his race. He can’t imagine many others having such a privilege as this. His eyes open and he glides, curving around his home a few times before sailing off towards a curve in the mountains nearby.

He lands with a loud thud, his wings smoothly folding in as he hops slightly, trying to cope with his hurt leg. There’s a large hole scratched into the harsh stone, deep gashes signalling that it was the work of a dragon. A small smile graces his lips as he remembers when he first came to this place. His parents had used it to gather metal when they were raising him. He would still harvest it for metal long into his adulthood, digging deeper and deeper underground. A thought crosses his mind, he wonders if anyone has stumbled across this mine. Though it is rather concealed, it has been 300 years. He hums in thought and goes in to investigate.

Genrit crawls inside, working his way down the shredded depths of the cave. His darkvision allows him to pass far beyond where the light from outside reaches. He soon reaches the bottom, finding where he left off the last time he was here. He extends a talon out and grinds it against a claw mark in the rock before him. He can’t help but feel like he should have grown somehow, despite being nearly full sized for a male dragon. Something about 300 years passing by in a blink of an eye is rather alienating. Even though it’s as though it was only a few days ago, he knows that the world is now much different. This cave, however… It’s like he never left.

Deciding not to dwell on this much longer, he fully reaches his claws out and begins carving his way through the stone, searching for the precious metals contained within. After a few hours he manages to dig out a large vein of silver. It’s rather stressful work, but he finds it quite soothing at times. None of the screaming of animals that one experiences in hunting, but with similarly beneficial results. Genrit’s mouth opens, the light from the warmth inside of his gullet spilling out as he sits down in front of a few chunks of rock. He lifts each of them up and swallows them whole. As they slip through his body, they are melted down into molten stone, the metal slipping through and into his system while the rock remains separate.

Once he has finished swallowing the last chunk of earth he hums deeply and turns, beginning his ascent out of the scar-ridden cave. When he finally exits he coughs uncomfortably, his leg acting up and a pressure building in his throat. He limps off to the side of the entrance where there is a pile of surprisingly smooth rock. The presence of this formation is soon explained as Genrit retches loudly, his teeth clenching in a grimace before his mouth opens wide. He regurgitates the molten rock onto the pile, it spreading out over it. It’s not pretty, but it’s more efficient and saves far more time than what a non-fire breathing dragon has to do to gain their metal naturally.

When the last few drops of rock drip from his mouth he shakes his head rapidly, shivering. That much metal should be fine for now. He will return soon though, he needs to catch up on his metal intake. He spreads his wings and takes flight once more, cruising higher than he really needs to. He gets a good view of what he still believes is his land. He can see his home and he begins his descent. He has some decorating to do. He plans on using his illusion magic to make some rocks appear as bones of various creatures and place them outside. As a dragon he will generally just eat the bones of his prey, meaning that he needs to use other means to make his home appear a bit more… Intimidating. The skull of the other dragon will be real though, however. Gruesome business.

Genrit lands in front of his home, making the ground shake slightly as he once more has to hop to compensate for his injury. His wings shiver and retract. At least he feels the strength returning to his body. Soon he’ll be feeling like his old self again. Though he’s not sure just how well his leg is going to be doing over the coming weeks. He turns his neck to look back at his injured leg and he frowns. He flexes his claws on the foot and grimaces from the pain. He sighs and shakes his head slowly, going about gathering some nearby rocks. No sense dwelling too much on something he can’t fix, especially when he still has work to do.

The Bold and The Prideful

Ah, so she has some sort of importance about her. Though he has no idea who The Silent Ravens are, he at least acknowledges her place in their society. Which doesn't really mean much given his overall disposition towards humans. He shifts in place and shakes his head quickly, flicking some slightly coagulated blood off of his face. A thoughtful rumble rises from his throat as he considers what she says about Vircastoria. So it fell, did it? Genrit internally muses about just how much of the world fell into chaos when magic faded. It must have truly been a dramatic change. If it was enough to get dragons to cooperate in such away, he can't imagine just how hard it hit the lesser races, let alone those that resided in such a magic reliant city.

"A shame. You were so proud once. But now..." His head turns to the mutilated corpse behind him and a small smirk graces his lips before he looks back at her. "Now you're just like the rest of the animals in this forest." He chuckles and taps a talon against a stone next to him a few times, carving a few lines down it as he continues. "Though at least you kept some scraps of your dignity. I can't say the same for the other dragons of Pyresia. Cowards." He stops tapping the rock and slinks forwards, lowering his body and moving a few long steps closer. His head hovers just off the ground a few meters away from her. "You still ride horses. You have creatures that serve you. I assume you still have cattle, too. Being nomadic you rely on your skill and your wits. Like a true dragon. Not like those that chose to beg for help from what we once saw as nothing more than dirt." His lips curl into a grin, smoke puffing out from the corners of his mouth as his rows of teeth are shown. "I can respect that."

The Bold and The Prideful

The manner with which she speaks is reminiscent of the times he has confronted humans in the past. He can't deny that he enjoys having someone watching the way they speak around him. It gives him a sense of importance and overall power over the situation. His chin tilts up slightly and some smoke begins to smolder out of the corners of his mouth. "Genrit'khaath." Pyresia... Another mention of the city of dragons. He can't help but feel insulted by the suggestion that he comes from such a place and it shows with the distaste in his voice as he continues. "I sustain myself with that which is in my territory. Alone, like a dragon is meant to be."

One of his claws digs into the earth, scratching a hole into it as he observes the human with his pale eyes. His tongue slivers out and licks a wet patch of blood on the side of his mouth, smearing it and further staining his otherwise white tongue. "What might an insect like you doing all the way out here? There are no settlements nearby and I don't see a horse. Quite a distance for such small legs." His tone is antagonizing, though there is genuine curiosity. He doesn't approach her any further than he already has. He's certain that if she really gives him a reason to kill her the current distance won't make too much of a difference.

Ebonfort

I finally did it, kids.

"Took your damn time didn't you?"

Chise Hikaru

Name: Chise Hikaru

Race: Anuirean

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Birthday: 22nd day of Crimsea, 272 DM

Birthplace: Azure Strand

Resides in: Ebonfort (Currently renting a room in Azure Strand)

Occupation: Ebon Knight

Appearance:
Chise is what you could consider pretty, though her harsh attitude and body language tend to override such observations. She will choose to cover the majority of her body if she can, being self-conscious and rather mistrusting of other people’s gazes. Though as a fighter this generally works in her favour as, unlike some of the more revealing fighters, she actually has at least something softening the blow of an attack. She is 5’10” with toned and well defined muscles. Though she is an Anuirean she chooses to dye her hair black for her own reasons.

Personality:
Put simply, Chise is angry. She is short tempered in conversation and even shorter tempered in confrontation. A hard shell of ferocious attitude is all that passers-by and acquaintances will ever see. However in her own time out of view from the rest of the world she is a quiet individual and does whatever it takes to clear her head. She hardly ever raises her voice while alone or causes herself undue stress. When alone it’s eat, sleep, exercise. Violence and anger are reserved for the harsh outside world.

History:
Chise’s parents were both Anuirean and they raised her as such, teaching her swordplay and unarmed combat from an early age. Because of this she ended up becoming somewhat of a white knight for the other children who lived near her, protecting them from bullies and abusive adults. Coming from Azure Strand, her actions did not go unnoticed and she was very quickly perceived as being a future threat, having a natural inclination to confront crime.

When she turned 14 both of her parents were killed by thugs sent by a local crime boss and she was left an orphan. Naturally this then led to her being adopted by the Ebon Knights. This change of events and even further grooming in regards to combat is what turned her from a positive believer in justice to a bitter and violent individual. She lashes out because of what happened in her childhood and it has inevitably skewed her own perception of justice, not seeing the point in protecting certain individuals or arresting instead of executing certain criminals.

A further 14 years has passed and she is now a fully grown woman and Ebon Knight. She has tried her best to forget about what happened back in Azure Strand, but it is constantly in the back of her mind. After a particularly violent outburst against a thief she found herself carrying the anger over to her own private quarters, a place that is usually free from stress. Her mind once again turned to what happened to her parents and how her life was forced into what it is now. In a moment filled with impulse and anger she went completely AWOL and made for Azure Strand. She has dyed her hair black and left behind anything that marks her as an Ebon Knight. What she plans to do in Azure Strand cannot be traced back to her life as an Ebon Knight at all.

She plans to spill blood and will not hesitate to do so against the inhabitants of Azure Strand as she looks for everyone responsible for murdering her parents. From her time living there as a child she knows full well that everyone who lives in that town is a criminal in some way or another. And if there’s anything that she’s maintained over her life, it’s the belief that criminals deserve punishment equal to or greater than their actions.

Who knows, maybe her vigilante actions will actually make a difference in this virtually lawless hellhole.

Skills
Racial Bonus: +30 in Unarmed Combat
Unarmed Combat: 20 +30
Weapon (Falchion): 10
Grappling: 15
Wrestling: 10
Riding (Horse): 5
Interrogation: 10
Bodybuilding: 20
Total: 90 + 30 racial

Possessions:
Quantity | Item | Acquired | Value
1 | Clothing | Starting | 10gp
1 | Vambrace, Steel | Starting | 50gp
1 | Chestplate, Leather | Starting | 10gp

Ledger:
Cost | Item | Subtotal
+100gp | Starting Money | 100gp 0sp 0cp
-2sp/day (Poor Living)
-5sp/day (Common Inn Rent)
+7gp/day (Occupation Pay, currently suspended)

Story List:

Ebonfort

Cave, Sweet Cave is complete and ready to be reviewed. Thanks for the help @Drache!