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| Afanc - Male - Ruin; Riderless Taint. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 22 2014, 09:41 AM (326 Views) | |
| Chirpadee | Oct 22 2014, 09:41 AM Post #1 |
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behold her lovely plumage
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Character Number- 11th Name- Afanc Age- 43 Gender- Male Element- Ruin Appearance- Afanc is a leggy creature with somewhat average proportions otherwise. The majority of his body is coated in short, rusty brown fur that is somewhat course in texture. Dapples of lighter beige sprinkle his back and sides like freckles on a young deer. It gives the dragon a look of youth even though no fawn would ever come close his size. He stands tall and somewhat stork like on long, strong legs. From the knee down thin needles sprout and fall over his feet. Long toes ending in hooked talons are almost completely hidden in what appears to be thick beige fur. Only the very tips of the claws protrude like an owl’s from the thick mass of spines. Even so when he walks those tips hardly seem like a danger. His tail is long and whip like ending in a small tuft of needles that match those around his legs and joins a ridge that runs from his shoulders right into the mass of brown. His neck is fully engulfed in the slender, hair like quills which hang shaggily around his skull and around the sides of his mask. His ribcage is larger than some of his breed giving him the appearance more like a deer with his long legs and smooth shape. His hips are narrow but do not seem to have trouble supporting his weight. Unlike some of his kin the ruinous male does not appear thin. Instead he seems well fed. His ribs are barely visible against his sides and while one might not call him overweight, they certainly would not call him underfed. Four wings fold at his side, the primary pair quite a bit larger than the secondary which begins slightly under his first pair and arches over his rump. The feathers on their backs match his body in hue, their feathers a deep rusty brown, however the tips of the feathers have turned a mottled black, somewhere between freckled and plague spotted in appearance. The undersides are quite different. They are lighter in hue, closer to the soft freckling along his sides and the dark stripes mimic an owls. Much like an owl the feathers are soft and thick for silent flying. All of this is common and rather par for the course for his breed. It is his mask and even more so what lays below it that makes him appear alien. His mask is almost entirely flat. That is not to say that it is lacking definition. The shape seems to resemble a deer with a long nose and a rounded shape. However it does not protrude from a normal draconian skull. Instead it appears as if it were adhered to a human face, flat and vertical. It gives his visage a strange sensation of uncanny valley especially the way his lighter mane flows around it like a lion. His ears also protrude to the sides, leaf like and overlarge on his head. Quills grace the tips but their shape seems more akin to prey then predator. The holes for his eyes are large and while triangular are rounded at the edges giving the whole affair a gentle look. From behind those holes four spots of lime green light blaze like tiny lanterns. They wander seamlessly between the two holes as if there were nothing between them. In the right moment it would not be unheard of to catch him with all four specs swimming in the same dark pit. His horns are adhered directly on to the mask. Three pairs that attempt, and somewhat poorly, to resemble antlers. The first set goes straight upwards and curve just slightly outwards in a smooth white arch. The second branching set sits beneath the first and curls straight out and slightly up. The final set rests below that and curls down and inwards so the horns over all frame the innocent expression of the face. If not for the pale white and sickly yellow mists which roll from beneath the mask, his tail tip, his wings, and from the quills around his feet, it might be easy to mistake him for something gentle. What sets him apart from his brethren is the way his mask operates. While many ruins have a simple jaw which is attached within their mask, it is hard to tell if Afanc has a jaw at all. Looking at him straight on there is nothing to give away where his mouth might be. Perhaps his neck seems a little thick in the way it joins with the lip of the mask, or the strange way nothing seems to move when he talks. That is where the horrifying truth lays. The mask he bears lifts. What lays beneath is an ungodly hole. It expands like a gulper eel, the bones not seeming to connect to anything. Sharp teeth protrude from this lower flap of hellhole and from the mask itself offering a grim reminder that not everything that looks friendly is. His jaw expands to let him swallow most items whole, though larger prey he must first break into parts. The mouth does not allow for chewing, nor does it allow him to speak. There is no fine control, but it does allow him to eat, a solitary thing that sets him apart from his brethren. His crystal is set oddly. The gem rested on his tongue when it was whole. A teardrop of Sodalite with its blue and white swirls of color. When it shattered it broke from the center. The pieces now protrude from his tongue like jagged spikes and if not for the roof of his mouth being solidified by his mask it would slice it open regularly. Personality- A beast who lives to be worshiped. He is a creature of poise and careful grace, though that is a crafted persona designed to get him what he wants. He has always been a somewhat quiet creature, not really one for speaking before he is ready. His early life was marked with silence and he never did fully kick the habit. The reverent is delusional. Since the fall of the dark lord he has spent his time molding himself into a small local deity. He bares enough resemblance to a docile forest animal that those far separated from society make the mistake, and this is what he likes. He ascribes to the philosophy that it is easier to behave innocently and prove someone wrong, then to start out aggressive and deal with defensive prey. He is not one to ever engage in direct combat if he can avoid it. He would rather fight one on one or simply disappear and fight another day. One might call him a coward, but he prefers the term survivor. It is hard to do any fighting when you are dead. He is much more likely to make unexpected attacks, wound his prey and then disappear, only to return later to finish the job once infection and other such problems have set in. Far easier that way, far less messy. He is happy to be underestimated and thought of as weak if it allows him an advantage. Afanc seems to believe that because he has a jaw he must use it. He is obsessed with sweet foods, particularly candies, and he will go out of his way to ensure his diet is full of them. He has a strange obsession with eating different animals, tasting them and seeing what their flavor is. So far beside candy human has reigned as his favorite. Not that this is unexpected given his tainted nature. The reverent is easily bribed. He likes to be worshiped and this comes at the cost of his resolve. If his prey breaks down and begs, or grovels, he is likely to keep them alive for that very purpose. He demands tributes and gifts for his generosity, or he behaves as the changeable god and wreaks havoc on those who denied him his right. Partner- None Rank- Bone History- Afanc is a strange sort of dragon. For his first three years he never spoke a word. His rider had been a small girl named Elsie who had been kidnapped by the taints. She shook when a dragon so much as looked at her and she was ever frightened to stand before taints. Afanc did not help with that problem. He did not defend her instead watched with a strange silent passiveness which made the girl even more afraid. While many in his litter were brutish and loud, his silence unnerved her more then the direct chaos of his hatchmates. He never ate in her presence and at times she thought he didn’t at all. His white mists were like a soft fog which lingered around his placid face and feet. His movements were slow and careful more like prey then predator. Their classmates were not impressed by the pair and Afanc never showed any inclination to change that thought. It was hard to read the dragon when he never spoke. They graduated, Elsie still alive though she had broken at some point in their training. She had reverted to a creature nearly as quiet as he and she followed him like a pale wilting shadow. It was not until his third year that he finally found a voice. His first was stolen from his rider. He had spent his first three years listening and learning. Elsie understood this was not some great revelation or a thing to be celebrating. It was terrifying. Now that they could speak she began to fear her slow moving dragon. Months ticked by and his voice adapted, shifting to other sounds until he picked a trio of male voices he used in perfect unison like a Greek chorus. He seemed pleased by his choice, and Elsie was pleased that he no longer parroted her in sound. Elsie lasted until he was five. At that point her shrinking demeanor did not suit the war. He did not kill her himself, but he purposefully left her behind in dangerous territory. It was a mated pair of chimera who got her, he was too far removed to watch. It hurt when she died, and then there was numbness, glorious numbness in its wake. He was pleased with the silence it provided in his mind. He was free of her fear. He met her end with indifference. There were more important matters to attend to. It was painful, and for a time there was an emptiness, some distant burning loss, but he filled it in the battles that followed throughout his life. The army moved and he followed carving a brutal path in his own way. As the years past he forgot her, between the influence of the dark lord and the violence he brought. It was a dark day when the army fell. The reverent fled to a dark corner of the pine forest where he holed up watching the world shake off the war. His life was altered when he stumbled on a small village in the deep trees who lived fighting off the encroaching taint of the forest. The beast watched them for weeks from a distance, however he was not as stealthy as he believed. The beast became a creature of local legend and they began leaving offerings. This was something he took great pleasure in. His diminished sense of worth since the war was restored. He milked it slowly, letting them catch glimpses and call him a god. He thrived on their wants and the monster began to rove deeper into the forest. He searched out villages too small for other dragons too care about and too remote for most sekkains to take interest in. They offer him sweets and pray in his name, and he in turn kept the forest at bay. Years past this way. Travelers in his corner of the woods were said to go missing far more often then was the norm. Yet the locals swore their forest god is benevolent. He takes no more than one sacrifice a year and only demands they grow sugarcane so they can offer him a tribute composed of sweets. Outsiders, however, are removed to keep his tiny towns sterile of external influence. He was happy to remain forgotten in the woods until the compulsion began to stir in him. The taints began to gather in mass and he found himself curious what bloody path they would cut. For the first time since the fall of the tainted army he has emerged to observe the world beyond his sheltered territory. The ruin slipped himself back into their ranks, his sense of self-worth having skyrocketed. A quiet beast in a loud army, waiting to fight again. User Information Username- Chirpadee Contact- PM or Skype Yourself- I have a problem. That problem is dragons. How did you find Sekkai? Arts forever ago. |
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| CloakAndDagger | Oct 22 2014, 04:56 PM Post #2 |
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THE DUNGEON MASTER
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[align=center]Accepted[/align] |
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7:49 AM Jul 11