Calemvir, The Awoken

Race: "Look upon my scales and tell me, am I not an Elder Dragon! You humans and your feeble lives, yours are but a speck in accordance to my own."

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Strengths:
"You would have me list my strengths as if I lack some? An insult, and I will remember this!"

A form of most powerful and complex muscle hidden behind black scales. Calemvir boasts a towering strength and size among even his own kin, not to mention the lower races of this realm. To stand before such a being would be folly indeed, for amidst the battlefield deadly claws and teeth, or even a swipe from a bludgeoning tail from such a great beast could spell one's end.

Clad in a skin of black scales, this natural hide of overlapping scales common amongst most dragons, protects Calemvir as if it was a suit of plate without the weight, allowing for a perfect freedom of movement. Unlike many of his kin however, Calemvir's hide has been subject to the direct power of dark magics which even now resides upon his scales with their influence, imbuing them with a resistance to most magics.

A dragon's cunning leaves something to be admired, doubly so in Calemvir who has lived millenia to hone it. As many a hero, adventurer and foe has met their end through the devices and machinations of this dragon as by its claws.

A natural advantage of a dragon is the ability of flight. Large, leathery and bat-like wings protrude from Calemvir's back to his upper thigh which allow for flight and gliding in the air. The beating of these powerful wings show the true splendor and power of a true dragon, though such flight can only be sustained for a time due to the large body mass of any dragon and not indefinitely.

Perhaps the most fearsome trait of a dragon remains with its deadliest weapon, Calemvir's fiery breath promises death. A third lung stores the flammable gases of methane and phosphor which when released with the dragon's breath ignites in contact with the air creating a deadly torrent of flame.

Stuff of legend, is a Dragon's horde, on untold riches do Dragons sit. Calemvir had amassed quite the treasury within his mountain cave which he jealously guarded before his fall. Nevertheless, should it remain the wealth is there and perhaps of use if one was to convince him to part with some of it.

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Flaws:
"How dare you puny being, demand of me to speak my flaws, for there are none!"

While a Dragons hide is indeed strong and true, there are however vulnerabilities among it's hide. A lack of strong scale around Calemvir's eyes, underbelly and the inner leathery skin of his wings remain critical locations, which if struck could grievously wound. Calemvir however has with the help of his Goblin slaves mounted a large and jeweled chest-piece across his upper chest to provide some protection for this vulnerability whilst revealing to all his wealth to behold.

A Dragons greed is a well known trait, and in Calemvir it is no less true. For he holds a maddening lust for gold and when it can be acquired, there will be no reasoning and no planning for it will have to be added to the treasure trove immediately.

Mentioned just as much as their greed and treasure troves, is the arrogance of Dragons. Calemvir is of firm belief that Dragons are superior to all races, even his fellow lieutenants whom are powerful indeed, but simply unable to match the splendor of a Dragon. The lesser races distract themselves with paltry ideals and beliefs, Calemvir is firmly above such things

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Opinions

"A man, simply human by all accounts of the word. Bastian Wenderuthweiler while certainly insignificant, never ceases to amuse me with his actions of debauchery and ignorance. The man however, is not completely lacking in his use for he is a fine swordsmen and for some unforeseeable reason owns the gift of control over the baser races, if one was to look beyond his final hours with the Overlord, he might even be called... courageous.
Unfortunately, his courage is put to use sating baser, human desires rather than directed in any useful capacity. One must after-all, have courage to court the likes of Serikul
- Nevertheless he certainly makes things interesting, perhaps a friendship with such a man might prove fruitful."

"Orcs, far too large and muscle-bound for their own good, it makes them rather inconvenient to eat. I imagine this remains doubly so for Ukdur Hellhammer who stands among the largest of his race. Even if he fails to match the splendor of myself, his ability to make war owes him some due respect. Why the Orc even managed to gather the Orc Clans, with all of their infighting, and make himself their leader. There must be some quality I'm missing here when I look upon the brute, other than that his kin would make fine slaves."

"Serikul, The Queen of Spiders and the amusing object of Bastian's desire. I'm told she was once human, and a thief no less. Hmm, how many such thieves have departed from this realm through my claws?
She certainly has an interesting set of skills and her command over arachnids is rather intriguing, I remember her songs even now. For as long as she knows not where my treasure horde sits, we shall get along amicably."

"Hah, the cultist Uaziezuhr. A connoisseur in dark magics, always dancing with the demons of the abyss. When I look upon such a corrupted being, I see a fool so twisted amongst the darkness in dark pacts and deals that I see no fortunate end for him. Nevertheless, while his sins catch up to him, the cultist has proven himself a schemer among other things. To trust this man would be my folly, to use him though, my boon."

"Ah, the Dragonkin Skrall. If I respected any of the lot, it would certainly be Skrall. Should I believe his tales, I would believe that while my own ancestors flew in the skies, he stood upon the ground fighting demons. Certainly the Dragonkin's imagination deserves some merit for it's wild stories. Nevertheless, he is of draconic origin and as such worthy of any respect I might bestow upon him."

"The lich Lord Phastum? Speak not of his name for that old spirit was a coward, he might yell and boast of his power but when the time for battle came he fled into the dark. I would like nothing more than to see the abomination gone from here."

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Backstory:
While the Overlord ruled the realm, Calemvir whom had stood loyal by his side since the early years of his rising. Languished in the new found power through his association with his master, he embraced what was clearly his destiny as a god-king over men and their ilk. For naturally, a beast such as he was superior to the tiny, frail, and short-lived beings that would come to worship him. For power equals truth, and a Dragon's power over men was indisputable evidence of his superiority.

For as long as the Overlord stood, Calemvir ruled over his own piece of territory which he ruled with an iron fist. Terrorized and subject to heavy tributes to their ruler, the people's wealth diminished as the Dragons horde grew into abundance. For the longest time, there was no resistance to his regime assured by a Dragon Cult which was formed to worship their new ruler. Naturally, these sympathizers made up of the least morally concerned folk, benefited from the Dragon's laissez faire rule with riches of their own. All they had to do in return was grovel and worship Calemvir whilst enacting his justice and law upon the land.

This would all come to an end however, when the "Heroes" took up arms and marched against the Overlord and his Dark Lieutenants. News of his fellow lieutenant's being defeated, angered Calemvir greatly. These petty lesser races had to be put in their place. Calemvir took flight from his great treasure horde stowed within a large complex of caves within the mountains, to engage the so-called hero that had entered his territory weeks prior. Sir Stanwyck Reeve, the Gallant was the warriors name, and one which would be added to the list of Dragon-slayers.



Sweeping down from the skies, came the black Dragon upon the marching formation of Stanwyck's retinue. A loud cry and a gout of flames amidst the tight ranks of soldiers ended the lives of many and announced to all his arrival. A terrain of ash, fire and screams now surrounded the Dragon and his prey, Sir Stanwyck. A long and drawn out battle ensued, there was something terribly, terribly wrong here. This puny man weathered the fiery breath, and failed to show even the slightest sign of fatigue which encumbered all men. Enraged, Calemvir flew into a relentless assault which would be his undoing.

A swift and sudden blade tore its way across his upper chest, blood seeped from the wound endlessly. Suddenly disheartened, Calemvir took to flight as his life blood left his body freely now. His weakening form continued flight laboriously, covering a grand distance before plummeting to the ground far away from that wretch Stanwyck. There, the Dragon bled out upon the brown earth in a valley of evergreen, in his last tormented moments an energy pulsed throughout his form before the darkness reigned supreme. It would be when the Overlord called, when he would awake once more.