One fresh, hot CS, to go.

[hider=Eltanin][b]Name/Aliases:[/b] "I have been known by many names throughout the ages, but I am known by my kind of Eltanin the Starshaper."

[b]Sex:[/b] "Male, if you must know."

[b]Age:[/b] "I stopped counting my years an eon ago."

[b]Appearance:[/b] "The body I have been trapped in is in quite a pitiful state. Its skin has been turned to leather by the sun and furrowed by age. Its limbs are thin and wiry, and its hair- how I detest hair -is this grey, thick, oily mess that sprouts from my head and face. The runes of my imprisonment are inked into its skin, a constant reminder of what I am, so that I do not grow accustomed to this form. It is only natural that I should wish to [url=http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/203/b/3/sand_ninja___boss_by_tervola-d41a68x.jpg]cover up[/url] this humiliating shape, if only to blend in with the populace."

[b]Personality:[/b] "While I prefer to think of myself as the wisest of my peers, perhaps that is presumptuous. What I can say is that few can best me in terms of experience. I have seen and know far too much of the world to be humbled by it, or hope for future fortune. The rage and and greed that boils in the blood of my people has been cooled and tempered by by current state. What was once boiling magma of passion has hardened to willpower like stone, a constant drive to return to my proper form.

[b]History:[/b] "The world I was hatched into was a very different one from the world we live in today. The stars, sands, trees and seas were all much younger then, and they radiated with life in such a way that nothing else does anymore. I lived with my mother until I was strong enough to fend for myself, and so I did. My youthful exploits were great and many, and I am quite too old to remember them all. However, as my body grew, so did my strength, as well as my greed.

"I delved into the arcane arts, and studied secrets of such complexity that mortals would die of age before fully comprehending them. With this power, I stood at a great advantage to my peers, who were too lazy to advance themselves, and so relied on their natural strengths. Though it took ages, I was able to either kill or drive away every dragon in an area so vast it took four days to fly across. I ruled these lands as my own, as none were great enough to take them from me. The mortals of these lands cowered beneath the shadow of my wings, and offered me tribute out of fear for their lives. However, fear eventually gave away to hate and resentment.

"Their attempts on my life were meager and laughable. Poisoned sheep, bands of heroes, assassins in the night; my intellect and power were both to great to be surpassed. The final attempt, however, was much different. A single old man, clothed in a long white robe, challenged me in my own lair. As I went to crush him beneath my claws, he repelled me with arcane power that I had never before sensed in a mortal. The might of his wizardry was so great that it took my all to repel his attacks, and I had little chance to return my own. We battled for days as the land around us was ruined by our struggle. However, his strength was giving way before mine, and I was able to turn the tide of battle. Despite this, the old man had one trick left up his sleeve. He cast off his robe to reveal his last resort: many runes etched into his skin for the purpose of sealing a being of immense power within himself. Using the very essence of his life as catalyst, he sacrificed himself to convert my body to energy, and then lock it within his flesh. I, who had ruled men and dragons and brought the stars to bow to me, had been made mortal.

"Perhaps what the old man had not been expecting was for me to adapt so quickly. Gathering what I could of my horde, I vanished among the populace of mortals. I do not know what they thought to be the outcome of our battle, with both dragon and wizard missing, but it does not matter. In the many, many years since, I have searched the lands for a means to return myself to my proper form, and cast off this humiliating shape. My success has been limited, as the magic with which my rival worked no longer rests in the hands of mortals, not a single dragon would bring themselves to assist me. Though sorcery has sustained this body for far longer than any mortal should live, it is not built to last forever, and I can feel it failing. I must hurry to find the solution to this problem before I am claimed by the years as no dragon has ever been."

[b]Equipment:[/b] "I carry with my what remnants of my horde that I could keep on my person. Careful spending and investment has allowed me to retain a surprising amount of it, though I still consider it to be pitifully little. The blade I carry was crafted by a people long since lost, the remnants of their civilization buried by the sands of time."

[b]Magic:[/b] "Though my abilities are quite meager compared to the works of wonder I was capable of in my prime, I am still a force to be reckoned with by mortal standards. The power of this world, the fury of its storms, the strength of its mountains, the harshness of its glaciers, the rage of its molten lava, the cruelty of its predators; all of these are mine to summon and command."[/hider]