BayRat

Freedom In The Stars: Deathbound [A Suicide Squad inspired sci-fi adventure] (Closed down)

Clash of the Titans

Jackal watched by the fire of burning bodies as a new horde gathered in the hangar, and meshed together in a grotesque fashion that even made Jackal slightly unnerved of its transformation, then his single usable eye watched as the new-formed beast shouted its loud screech. Jackal was impressed, as if whatever was the source of their control had forced its flesh toys to evolve to match Jackal in almost every way. Bony plates sticking out in rows like plated armor between cracks of matted loose flesh, intense muscle growth that formed a large hulking mass of a humanoid monster, and its movements was much more brutish then limp. Overall, it was designed to be a challenge. Jackal, the warrior that he is, could never back down from what he thought as a gesture of an honorable duel, this thing's creation, and the gorgas runt himself. Even in his injured state, he got up anyway, and once the monster was finished showing itself off with its flexing and wailing, Jackal too, made a terrifying roar, spreading his wrings about and extending his neck to its full height to try and give the illusion of him being bigger, granted he was still about 3-4 inches shorter then the flesh behemoth before him.

The two monsters charged at each other, and clashed directly against each other, the behemoth was stronger then Jackal had expected, as even with his full charge Jackal was being pushed back. The two monsters had their arms locked against each other in a pushing contest, however Jackal started taking advantage of his other limbs. His two wings arms would arc over and claw onto the back of the monster, while he would kneel his head down to ram his horns into the torso of the beast, and his tail would slither around the left leg. He continued to try and put leverage onto the chest with his horns, but even still the monstrosity started to overcome him, Jackal was started to lean back as the beast continued to push against the already injured reptile. The flesh monster would then pull back, and shove Jackal back at least a foot way, and due to his tail caught against the beast Jackal would fall onto his back as well, unable to take the beast with him the tail would simply slide off, then the beast would charge and grab hold of Jackal, and would sprint into the nearest wall. In a flash, Jackal was pressed up against the wall with violent force, the impact was brutal, but Jackal's natural armor held despite the pain that sparked through his body, and the blood gushing from his previous wounds. Jackal then realized that it was about to employ a tactic he had used once before on their kind, that was to repeatedly slam the target against the wall into their pulp, the reptile could feel the bitter taste of irony just before the second slam against the wall caused him to momentarily 'blank' in conscience due to the force of impact and the immense pain, his eyes turned white in shock before he slowly regained conscience, which would go blank again as he was pounded against the metal wall a third time, there was now a huge dent the size of the reptile within the reinforced metal wall, and his armor couldn't last forever, as a few of the scales on Jackal's back started to crack and chip.

Be it being forced into an conscienceless state, the deja vu of being overpowered, or the artifact finally reaching into Jackal's memories from afar, but a memory began to play back in his state while being unrelentingly pulverized.

The runt of the litter

Several young hellkites were training in a volcanic pit. They were still juveniles, ranging between 40 year olds to 60 year olds, they averaged among their 'half way' mark to their adulthood. At this point, many of them were already nearing their adult sizes, 5' to 6' tall reptiles. All except for one, the infamous runt of the tribe, Jackal, 60 years old despite only being 3' tall.

With the elder watching over the kids in a pit filled with lava and rock. Many started by dog-piling others into shallow pools of lava, all except Jackal, who was caught in front of two hellkites around the same age as him, but twice the size.

"So the runt wants to try and prove himself?" Scoffed one of the two juveniles, a hellkite with pitch black scales and beading blue eyes.

"That's adorable." Added another, a green Gorgas with eyes of shimmering gold. "Why don't we crush his dreams Gar?"

Without another word the black hellkite lifted Jackal by the neck with a singe hand and pressed him against the stone wall.

"Hey why don't we try drowning the rat?" Added the green hellkite as the other grinned to him in sadistic agreement.

Jackal struggled to break free, his feet squirming back and fourth and his tail trying to wack off the arm of his stronger aggressor. However his attempt was in vein, and he was sent straight into a 3 foot pool of molten rock.
"What a desperate midget he is."
The other Gorgas held down Jackal by the hands beneath the hot liquid. Jackal struggled, all four hands trying to claw at the arms of his attackers, but being so small in comparison made it hopeless.
"Come on runt!" Grinned the greenskin Hellkite.

he was loosing air and the sluggish consistency of lava made his movements even slower.

After about 10 minutes of struggling Jackal would pass out from suffocating, fortunately though, the Gorgas's time in the pit was over as it was time to return to their huts and dens. Thus his attackers were unable to finish the deed. Jackal woke up in the dead of night hours later, he was alone, alone in the molten pit. It was customary to not support the weak in the tribe of his original family, there was no support for him, for what little support were given to whoever else anyway. Jackal had no where to return to, his birth givers didn't even bother to look for him, he knew this well before, but it was at this moment when his loneliness finally sunk in.

He crawled out of the pit, seeing his village in the distant borderlines of desert and volcanic rocks. That's when he noticed however, that fire grew out of the tents. This was not unusual, many hellkites have accidentally burned down straw tents, and fire wasn't much of a problem to the dragon race other then having to rebuild whatever materials were lost. However it became more clear when the sound of war trumpets, various roars and shouts, and clashing of blades could be heard. He saw gorgas's riding with wyverns and drakes into his village, and a massacre unfolded before his eyes as he drew closer. He saw the two juveniles that nearly killed him pressed against the ground and beheaded by a Gorgas of another tribe, he couldn't identify the specific tribe. Everything was destroyed, what resistance Jackal's tribe put up was not enough to save them in the long run, the fast paced invasion and tactical advantages the rival tribe seemed to employ was enough to decimate their efforts completely. Screams from Nagas being decapitated echoed in the child dragon's eardrums as he drew closer. Too many emotions were mixed into Jackal that he didn't know what to feel nor did he fully comprehend what was going on, he only walked closer, until he stood just on the outskirts of the ruined village.

Two drakes from the war-bearing clan spotted Jackal, and rushed to end him. However they were stopped by a rather gigantic Hellkite. It was huge, standing at least 18 or 20 feet tall, with scales of black and a crimson belly. Ebony eyes stared at the Juvenile Jackal, peering down to observe him closer. Jackal just stared back, devoid of emotion, not even fear. So much was the event and what it meant to him that he simply became drained of it altogether. Was he happy that the tribe that practically looked down upon him was destroyed, was he sad that what little sense of home he had was now gone? So much was the conflict of feelings that Jackal ended up feeling nothing, and that was reflected in his eyes, or at least, that is what the giant Hellkite saw.
With a single claw picking up Jackal the hellkite took to the air, but not before telling the other two drakes to finish the job and return to their tribe center.

The rest was history, the Westari clan, notorious for its genociding of other tribes, had ironically spared mercy upon Jackal, raising him as one of his own. The hellkite who saved him was named Ryujin, and was his mentor from then on.

Jackal recalled the following days, his first month was rough, his training was relentless and his size gave him a huge disadvantage. Many of the westari clan still commented and insulted his size, sparing partners included. When he was only a few years from official adulthood, Jackal then remembered the first ever spar he won.

"Come on runt!" Said Lazarus, a 15 foot Hellkite with golden scales and red eyes. He was pressing Jackal against the dirt, who was no near as tall, but his muscles have grown since his last memory.

He didn't speak, only trying to push back with all his might. Lazarious continued to taunt. "How the hell are you going to prove yourself if you can't even take down a rookie? Runt"

Jackal didn't speak still, but his anger only grew.

"I don't understand why Ryujin would even bother with such a genetically inferior hellkite, come on runt is this really all you have to prove?"

Jackal's eyes snapped and grew bloodshot, and started to push back against Lazarious. "I'm not a runt." He muttered faintly, still struggling barely against the golden reptile.
"What was that?"

"I'm not a runt!" Growled Jackal as his hands grripped onto the arm of the flesh monstrosity. At this point, he was pummelled 16 times against the metal wall since he passed out, the scales on his back and side of the face were almost all bruised and chipped, various sections of that side, especially his face, had gashes of bleeding tissue exposed with broken scales and skin. Yet Jackal was still breathing.

After the 17th time he hit the wall, Jackal's eyes were milky and darkened from being barely conscience, the left eye was still wounded severely with blood pouring from the bottom eyelid, his feet were now pressing against the wall to keep him from being slammed again. The fleshy monstrosity would screech a horrifying sound as it tried to smash Jackal again.

"I'm not a runt!" Jackal shouted a bit louder and adrenaline pumped through his body, he was actually starting to push against the massive arm that was pressing him against the wall. The beast would go to punch him through with his spare hand, But jackal would catch it it with his other hand, which at first, pressed him against the wall again, but after being slammed for the 18th time, Jackal began to press back against the beast in full force.

"I'm not a runt!"

Jackal would tackle the flesh bag that was larger and heavier then him onto the steel ground despite the difference. Overcoming the beasts strength Jackal would roar, some of the teeth on his left side were broken and his gums were bleeding, but his fury was clear enough regardless. Despite the nearly broken body he had now, He ignored the pain to ensure that whatever it was before him was destroyed. He would bite down on one of the two fused mouths of the grotesque amalgamation of heads, and with a click of his tongue flames violently erupted out of his mouth, and sent into the body of the armorers flesh beast. The fire would violently seek a way out of the monster's body, flames sprouting from patches of skin and burning the monsters slowly from the inside out. Still though, the creature remained intact and seemingly unphased if not momentarily distracted, and punched Jackal across his saurian cheek, sending him sprawling across the ground.

But Jackal was not done, he refused to be done. He had to protect the ship, even if it meant death, he would not fail an ally, or allies rather, a second time. A third memory flashed, a recent one of his brief conversation with one of his new allies, Henri, he recalled, for a moment, Jackal was lost at the kind thought of it as he got back to his feet. The very thought of loosing that memory only furthered Jackal's rage as he sprinted back to the beast that was also standing back up. Its body was still evidently burning from within, its mouthes and eyes were bright red with heat and leaking smoke, various patches of its skin and flesh would start to chip and fall away like clay that had been in the kilm for too long. Jackal rammed his horns into the torso of the beast, which sent it flying into what was now a whole through the wall into another room from where Jackal was being pummeled. Due to its massive body it would be stuck.
Jackal Grabbed its right arm that was sticking out, and pressed his foot against the behemoth, and would pull. Pull so hard that in minutes despite the armor and muscle still intact that were resisting the fire, the massive arm would sever from its body.

"I am not runt!" Shouted Jackal as he slammed the severed arm into the burning behemoth, so much force was delivered in Jackal's enraged, adrenaline pumping state that with the help of the massive arm that belonged to the monster he'd send its owner straight through the metal wall, as well as making a massive Hole that lead into a hallway in the facility. Jackal Roared, the look of his eyes and the monstrous growling that continued as he dragged himself and the arm towards the burning monstrosity that Jackal himself looked to be nothing more then a wild monster. The severed arm was still animated, despite being seperated from the body, and it would grab hold of Jackal's neck. Jackal screamed seething rage, residue trails of flames radiating from his jaws as he let out a more high pitched yet still enraged and terrifying roar as the hand tried to choke him. The monster got up, many of its outer bones were becoming charred and burnt, and even without an arm it continued to lash back at Jackal, slamming straight into the dragon. Jackal fell to his feet as the flesh monstrosity attempted to take hold of him, jackal rolled out of its way, causing it to fall flat on its ugly face. Even with the arm Choking him, Jackal bit down on the back of the armored behemoth, tearing out a chunk of flesh and bone-plated armor to lift his head. In the hallway behind him, another small horde of the animate corpses were assembling. Jackal Looked back and ripped the massivce arm from his neck, the beast behind him getting up again. Jackal tossed aside the arm and turned to grapple the beast that was still somewhat larger then him with his two primary arms, and would toss the behemoth into the horde that was rapidly approaching him. Due to its massive size, it would crush the entire horde of a dozen or so bodies. they all tried to scramble to their feet as soon as possible, but Jackal would breathe another jet of flames at their direction. Thanks to the condensed hallway there was no where for the horde to escape the flames, while the behemoth stood as a barrier for most of the flames they were all quickly set ablaze. Jackal turned and started to walk back towards the ship, he didn't see the behemoth get up, but when he heard its massive feet charging forward, it was too late. Jackal would be picked up in the beast's charge straight into the hanger of the ship, taking another massive impact of damage to his back which caused him to screech out in pain. The monster was utterly engulfed in fire, inside and out, ironically the heat radiating from the beast at least gave Jackal a more comfortable temperature. With a bloodshot eye Jackal's tail would wrap around the remaining arm of the behemoth, and began to constrict it and pull it away from his body. With enough room gained, Jackal pushed back with the horns on his head, sending the monster sprawling backwards on its feet as his tail twisted and attempted to dislocate the arm, though this failed. Still, the tail let go and Jackal immediately leaped over the behemoth, slamming both of his claws onto his shoulders, and his feet into the chest, causing the beast to tumble down the ramp of the hangar. Before impact Jackal leaped off and attempted to fly, but his left wing was broken, which he found out too late, as he fell flat onto his face nearby the behemoth that was already recovering. Jackal turned, and met the fist of the behemoth with his two claws, Jackal would have been sent flying, however he kept a tight grip onto the behemoth's massive arm. He then leaped onto the chest again,digging into his chest with both hands to tear apart bone-made armor and muscle within its burning flesh. The gorgas' tail would lock against the remaining arm of the behemoth, preventing him from taking Jackal off as he continued to burrow into the chest of the amalgamated monster

"Not a runt!" Shouted Jackal again, blind with fury as he continued the process.

After tearing a massive hole into its torso, Jackal turned and began to rip off its arm, Pushing off of the now collapsed and burning monster as with some struggle pulled the arm out of its body, tearing apart tendons, bone, and muscle that was still burning. Jackal in the center of the burning corpse looked down at it as it was still animate, trying to get up with its two feet. He'd vomit up his own blood before he could attack it further, and the beast took the distraction to his advantage as it sprang up, using what was left of its torso to slam Jackal onto the ground and apply great blunt force to Jackal's head. Jackal picked up the arm and used it to smash into the torso of the behemoth again, then tossed the arm aside as he would bite off its massive deformed head. He held the head in his mouth triumphantly, holding it up in the air like a trophy as blood, both his own and of the head's, trickled down his throat, gums, and jaws, dripping from his chin and passive over his eyes. The head was so large that Jackal had to stretch out a wide angle of his jaws to fit it in his mouth.

The dragon panted. "Not a..." blood continued to trickle from his mouth, the side of his body, and the gashes in his chest. "runt." A thin fleshy piece that was once an arm flailed with Jackal's arm gripping it.
"Not.." Jackal began again, lifting his arm, this time he could no longer prologue his body's condition. staggering back a few feet Jackal fell on the bottom of the hangar's ramp. His eyes white and he lost conscience again, this time from blood loss and exhaustion. The head still remained in Jackal's mouth despite passing out and falling over. In front of Jackal's unconscience body was the remains of the massive behemoth he fought, including its massive arm and legs. Past that was the hordes of bodies Jackal decimated.

Darkness Visible

@Flagg

My sheet

Fafnir Sigurd

Drakken

Age: 27

Occupation: Mercenary/adventurer

Dragons, Drake Valley, and the United Drakken Kingdom

Dragons are extremely rare and legendary creatures, as powerful as many can be, rarely will one interact with such an elusive beast. Drake valley, however, is a massive region of treacherous terrain, steep rocky mountains and slopes run through the tropical environment, painted over it a lush jungles beneath the volcanic peaks and summits, rivers of water and lava colliding in steamy pools, and an ocean that surrounds the peninsula. Many great beasts roam this region, but it is notorious for its frequency of dragon variants, for the brutal heat and environment is ideal to many of such creatures. While they are still rare even in this region, wyverns are a common exception. A wide diversity of species of wyverns can be found in Drake Valley, ranging in size, form, and ability, but all generally possess the two legs and two wing format of the wyvern clad of dragons.

While in ancient times many would be found bathing in rivers of lava, hunting in the skies, and dueling with rivals over territory, the arrival of the Drakken tribes soon changed there wild frequency. Dragon slaying was the first art in which the Drakken tribe took part in, specializing warriors to hunt wyverns down and return their bodies to harvest and feast upon. However the Drakkens discovered a new art not too long after their slaying, and that was wyvern taming. Taming a wyvern was even more difficult then killing one, and many would loose their lives trying to do either. Eventually though, what became the 7 Drakken tribes intergretated and bred domesticated wyverns in the same way how people were able to domesticate wolves. Even still though, it was difficult for the average tribe member to obtain a wyvern. Wyverns take a long time to mature, 50 years until a hatchling could reach adult hood, and they were difficult to tame to almost anyone. The Drakkens would drink the blood of dragons, a very dangerous task with few survivors due to the toxic nature of the liquid, however those that did survive became what is now called true 'drakkens', humans auguments with draconic traits. Those born of Drakken lineage hence forth were notorious for their strange appearance. Eyes of strange colors, varying between crimson red, Azure Blue, Deep Purple, or Emerald Green, that would glow faintly like dim candles, a pair of horns sticking out of their heads which are often concealed by their hair, and a reptilian tail, often barbed with spikes and other reptilian features along it. Some rare individuals are born with bat-like leathery wings as well.

Drakkens by average are slightly more physically able then the average human by birth, which is mostly due to their average size. Men and Women of the Drakken lineage often stand between 6'1 and 7'2. What is truly remarkable about Drakkens though, is their longevity, durability and immunity to fire. It is unknown if they have an indefinite lifespans like many dragons, but it is safe to say many can live to be 400 years old. A Drakken's skin, much like the scales of a dragon, are rather durable. Granted they aren't as durable as a dragon, but their bodies can take a larger beating and have a resistant skin, for example a cut that would normally dig a wound 4 inches think would be halved to two inched for a Drakken. As for heat, it is impossible to burn a Drakken by conventional means, even molten rock cannot seem to damage them directly. Another note as their blood too, has become toxic like dragons. To those that are not immune to the draconic blood (I.E. Non-dragons, non-drakkens) it is mildly acidic and can burn skin within a minute of exposure, it steams when exposed to the air.
Four over a thousand years did the tribes separate further and evolve with their draconic lineage, then each of the 7 Drakken tribes would have a 500 year bitter rivalry before finally uniting under one civilization after their last and most devastating war met its end. The leaders united on a more 'modern' kingdom, albeit they are still rather primitive in terms of other kingdoms. Their weapons are mostly primitive spears, weak metal armor, swords and bows, the only exceptionally good militaristic forces are the wyvern Knights, Knights often better equipped with weaponry from foreign lands and well, ride their wyvern mounts into battle. However their numbers are slim due to the amount of wyverns they have available. For a Drakken, to obtain a wyvern one most be very wealthy, or earn it by either taming a wild one and bonding with it.

It is uncertain how or why, but around the time Drakkens became Drakkens, did they understand draconic, the language of dragons. Ironically there has been no record of dragons being able to speak, aside from claims of the even rarer sentient dragons, but draconic is a language of magic or mystic origin that seemingly all dragons, sentient or not, can at least understand. Using that language to give orders helps in taming wyverns and other wild animals, as well ordering domesticated dragons. However there is no guarantee that speaking draconic will sway a dragon unless it is tamed and bonded with the speaker.

The bond between a wyvern and Drakken, should it be successfully created, is special. The wyvern is unquestionable loyal to its partner just as, if not greater then a dog would, however their bond is exclusive to their partner, any other human/Drakken the wyvern sees is nothing more then a snack or something it shouldn't care for.

Honorbound Draconian.

Draconian Religion started with the Traditional Draconian, a druidic faith established by the first dragon slayers and tamers of the Drakken people. It is a simple religion that worships a single god who they refer to as Kilgarrah, the God of Dragons. In the general religion, the Dragon God is often attributed to creating the dragons and allowing the Drakken people to take on their traits, in return druids often worship wild dragons or imitations of dragons with sacrifices of meat, some tribes were known for human sacrifices. Honorbound Draconian was one of the few subvariants of the religion, which developed upon the rise of Dragon Knights/Wyvern Knights centuries later. This religious Sect is far more tame and casual, while they still believe in the same god, they believe the Dragon God attests to both honor and chivalry. Prayers are often spoken in draconic to the Dragon god for guidance or assistance, and many knights will honor their god with honorable duels to the death, dragon slaying, and other tests of character to appease Kilgarrah. While most variants of Draconian religion do not deny the existence of other Gods, their worship exclusively remains onto Kilgarrah.

Appearance

Standing at 6'8" in height, Fafnir has a muscularly slim body, Brown hair that is either curly and messy or combed back smoothly, Glowing Azure eyes, and the face of a Germanic male. He has a light neck-beard that is barely noticeable, and has a scar over his left eye.
He sports iron-plated armor in the general fashion of his culture, with features of green and black leather arranged in the picture above, his tail is often hidden behind his armor at certain angles.


His tail measures 7'3" feet in length, clad with red beaded scales that are far more tough then the rest of his skin, and barbed with a keratin tip at the tip.
While his hair is combed back, it is difficult to see his horns. His pair of horns are about 3" tall, and resemble spike-shaped poles.

Personality

He is an experienced Drinker, Bar-Brawler, and Brutal Combatant. He keeps a calm demeanor among casual affairs so long as he isn't drunk, which if so he will be much more jovial and crack more jokes. In combat however he is as fierce as the Draconic blood that flows within him, and while he enjoys fighting and sparring alike, if he gets too involved he may become berserk, which that in itself can be an advantage or disadvantage depending upon the situation. He tends to be sarcastic at times when around people he has grown a mild friendship towards but is otherwise quiet, again so long as hes sober. His most prized passion though, is his dragon Fenrir, whom he values dearly and treats his reptilian companion like a dog. Being a mercenary while he will follow general orders when it comes down to situations and decisions he will act purely on his own judgement and would rather face consequences later then sooner, he also has a mentality of 'do whatever it takes to get the job done', even if that means breaking some rules, laws, or some guidelines from the very job he has been assigned. He isn't a devout religious follower of his faith, but he still upholds the concepts of chivalry and honor to some mild extent, and often gives silent prayers to Kilgarrah in very extreme situations.

Motivation: A simple adventurer, while it is in his best interest to keep himself and Fenrir alive, his work and his thirst for his adventures are his only desires in life. That very freedom is threatened by the rising empire, his very homeland being threatened as well, and besides, the rebels pay well. Thats all the motivation he needs.

Biography

Fafnir Sigurd was raised as a knight since the Sigurd Family were nobles of the Drakken nation, and was given Fenrir, a mount used by his father long ago. His childhood was mixed with the pampering of wealthy parents and the rough life of being trained by the military, much of his time surviving the wilds by himself, learning to survive, training with weapons, and in between coming home to a loving family that spoiled him with uxorious foreign gifts. The quality in these products inspired a sort of goal for Fafnir to see the world, a passion he didn't keep secret either. While his parents did support the idea, the kingdom still required for his services. When he became an adult, he spent his next five years working as a royal guard to the current king and queen of the Drakkens, and soon after retired early to set out on a life a mercenary.

Equipment

Drakken Military issue short sword

A standard military steel-blade short sword, with its sheath connected to the left side of his belt.

Ol' reliable

A primitive wooden hunter's crossbow with iron support, slung over his shoulders parallel to the ax.

Wrym Tooth

A heavy, two-handed war ax made of blackened iron, which he keeps slung over his back.

Striking Justice and Modesty

A large lance that he typically only uses when mounted on Niddhogg, and as such he has the lance sheathed by the saddle.
The shield is often worn on his left gauntlet, a round shield that provides moderate protection.

50 wooden arrowhead crossbow bolts with a leather quiver.

A pendant with the head of a dragon, a religious symbol

His scalemail iron plated armor

A sealed bag with little over a pound of dragonsbanes plant.

An empty coin purse.

Skills

Draconic Strength

With the blood of dragons and his training of a soldier, Fafnir can lift well over 500 pounds, and can be a heavy hitter, and being a drakken he can take plenty of blows as well.

Novice Alchemist

In old times the tribes were alchemic druids, most of their products were about as effective as snake oil (or in their case, dragon oil) however Fafnir knows of one recipe the druids successfully made. By combining Dragon's blood (his own blood can suffice) with dragonsbane and water, it creates a healing elixar nicknamed pheonix juice. The liquid, when ingested, encourages rapid cell regeneration. While it is not an instant healing potion, it can heal most fatal injuries and internal damage, and bone regeneration within days, given the one who had drank it is still alive for the process to work. The elixar is also very bitter and is said to burn the tongue with its foul flavor, but mixing it with teeth reduces that factor.

Fifth Limb

His tail, being sturdy and flexible, is often used to his advantage in giving the edge on his opponents, some people don't expect being tail whipped across the face.

Berserker

Unless he is sparring, in direct combat Fafnir is brutal and relentless, often trying to overpower the foes he is faced with and is willing to take a few hits in order to land a blow on his target.

Survivalist

He knows well how to survive in the wild with little or no equipment, including how to build temporary make-shift shelters.

Night Vision

Like most dragons he can see well in the dark thanks to his illuminated eyes.

Drakken

The racial benefits of a drakken, fireproof, durability, and a long life ahead of him.

Hunter

As a survivalist he knows how to track and hunt beasts of moderate difficulty.

Dragon companion

Fafnir's companion Fenrir is not only a great mount, but a powerful weapon in of itself.

Heavy Drinker

He can stomach a good amount of alcohol before getting intoxicated.

Fearless

In part to his berserker, Few things scare the Dragon Knight, his 'inner dragon' speaks for itself.

Dragon Expert

Being raised in a culture rich of dragons, he knows most about them, including their weaknesses such as their cold-blooded vulnerability to well..the cold, the dragonsbane plant, weak points in their defenses (which varies on the individual) and various other dragon related facts and information that could rival a knowledge of books on a bookworm.

All trade Jack

He has a very average skill with weapons, nothing too remarkable except that he at least knows how to use and wield probably almost any common weapon or primitive tool.

Fenrir

Classification: Dragon, drake subgroup, species Megalania Dracolupas

Fafnir's companion is unique in that Fenrir is actually in the drake clad dragon variant, rather then a wyvern. The general difference being that as a Drake he resembles more like a lizard with 4 legs, and lacks any wings to fly with.

Weighing about 1,3016 pounds, Fenrir is 23 feet in length (10 feet from head to back, and another 13 feet from back to the tip of his tail), and will typically stand 6 feet in height, although on the occasion when he stands on his hind feet that height differs obviously. He is clad in forest-green, plated scales that are as durable as iron, with three toed claws and canine-like legs, and a moderately long tail. He has a sharp row of scuted plates along his back to the tip of his tail, and a sharp row of spines running along his chest. His narrow, saurian head possesses a pair of horns and two reptilian eyes that gleam a faint yellow light in darkness.

He has a leather and iron reinforced saddle along his back with reigns and a sheath for his lance attached to it.

Skills:

Nightvision

His glowing eyes can allow great viability even in the darkness of night.

Tracker

Fenrir has an excellent sense of smell, especially with his forked tongue, so much so that he can rival a blood hound's tracking skills.

Bio-armor

With scales as strong as iron it is difficult to damage the dragon.

Apex Predator

The savage and ruthless ecosystem is certainty far more monstrous then compared to most other typical environments of the world, monsters there, dragons or not, tend to stand out monsters among monsters, its no surprise that outside of Drake Valley the typical wild predator pales in comparison to Fenrir. It is difficult for another beast to intimidate Niddhogg, unless if it happened to be a massive dragon or another incredibly large beast.

Firebreather

Like many dragons Fenrir can breathe a jet of flames from his mouth. His breathe weapon can shoot flames either in a straight cone with a 20 feet reach, or a 10 feet spread of fire.

Trusty mount

He is loyal-for-life to Fafnir, and is a well sported mount.

All-Terrain

Fenrir can sprint up to 55 mph with good distance, and can maneuver over rough terrain easily and can even climb to some extent, while he can't dive well he can still swim fairly well on his own.

Stealthy Hunter

Again, like a wolf, he can be surprisingly very stealthy and quiet when he wants too, moving silently along the ground and stalking prey with ease due to his nature.

Ferocious

He'll eat just about anything, living or dead given the chance, with the exception of plants. This tends to be a problem when going into town that is ripe with a human population that the beast will see as food, and will gladly sneak a bite while Fafnir isn't looking.

Fireproof

Like every other typical dragon, it is impossible to harm him with fire and heat.

Old but Young

Dragons are notorious for their seemingly indefinite natural longevity, Fenrir is no exception as he is already 300 years old and has served under two masters before Fafnir, making the beast well experienced.

Faithful Companion

He will never leave Fafnir's side, to the point where he would give his own life for his beloved master.

Stopping Power

Its no surprise that the dragon is incredibly strong, whether it is tearing another monster apart or ramming its horns full speed into an unlucky prey item.

Foul mouth

His bite is somewhat lethal, not just in how sharp the teeth are or in how powerful his bone-crushing jaws are. His canines are laced with a weak but interesting venom that prevents blood from clotting, and causes fatigue in its victim. While even minor wounds can lead to fatal blood loss, the venom itself is easy to combat. A healthy immune system alone could knock it off within a day's rest, and the wounds can be treated with bandages to stop the bleeding. Symptons of the venom increase over time while the victim is awake, however, in addition to growing increasingly weary and unable to naturally stop blood from flowing from wounds, a victim that stays conscience for more then 5 minutes will start to feel an intense burning pain, followed by blurry vision and hearing, prone to vomiting, and becoming drained of endurance. The venom also can make the wounds become infected should they go untreated within a day.

Weaknesses

-His underbelly is not as hard as the rest of his scales, and can be vulnerable to cut or stab.
Being cold blood it is difficult for Fenrir to survive in cold climates, ice being a tactical weakness.

-Dragonsbane can repel or deter almost any dragon, as they cannot stand the mere scent of the plant. Fortunately it is a rare herb that only grows in certain mountain peaks of Drake Valley.

-His species are natural pack hunters, Fenrir is an alpha without a pack. It is a personal side quest for Fafnir to find him at least a packmate

Age of Rebuilding: Return of the Gods

Just a note that while I am not abandoning this rp, due to college and other stuff I'm committed too My IC posts will be rather slow, most of the posts I'll make here is to continue to manage the rp and read what people write, and answering questions or accepting new sheets if they arise. Kilgarrah will be essentially 'hibernation' (And when I mean hibernating I mean holing up in his mountain with treasure and booze)for a good while.

Age of Rebuilding: Return of the Gods

Oooh, awesomeness!

Loads of great posts! Being away roleplaying for two days keeps one out of the groove it seems.

@Dragonmancer Btw, if i get deamons any way wrong in my next post, do tell. Or if i should use something else.
I just felt as using something less stereotypical than barbarians as the foe.

@Klomster

For future reference, demons are basically interchangeable to angels, as they are immortal god-like (but not actual god) entities with varying powers and a powerful spiritual influence. Angels can become demons, and demons can become angels.

The main difference between angels and demons is the cliche dark and light contrast, however nuetral angel/demons are technically considered demons since they do not align with light.

Demon/angels can become gods under rare and extremely impossible circumstances

Age of Rebuilding: Return of the Gods

Kilgarrah the Great and Terrible!

A massive reptilian tail would slam the tabletop, creating a hard and loud knock that would silence the court. "Alright settle down now my fellow Gods, your great and magnificent King shall speak." The dragon nodded to himself as he snapped his 'fingers' or claws rather. His wings would stretch, so much so that they would spread behind and somewhat embrace his fellow Primals, Iuppiter, Kalla, and well, squidface. The claws on his wings gently grabbing their shoulders.

"If you aren't aware, the silence is about to end, the gates will soon open to allow us to interact with the material world again. I understand many of you are impatiently waiting to return, but we must remember a few things. First of all, let the silence be a listen of humility, for even..." He paused as if admitting the next words pained him greatly "am not perfect, we all make mistakes sometimes, it is our duty to protect this world above all else. Politics and whatever fancy thing comes like the world being ruled be mermaids or, filthy insects, it is still our world nonetheless. That being said, we should never repeat the selfish mistakes we have made last time that likely caused the calamity to have ever happened." In response to his snap from earlier, a dozen of angels carried a massive golden goblet decorated with gems and the crest of a dragon, which was large enough for the Dragon God's hand. The cup was filled with Ambrosia. "Additionally, many of the mortals, namely humans, have become...independent, naturally so since we were forced to abandoned them for only 500 years. Of course that short amount of time means a lot to the short lived creatures, they have evolved without us and many of which, I fear, has taken an atheist approach to our existence." The dragon paused to sip his divine alchohal. "But fret not, we need not rush this, for if we try anything rash chaos will surely follow. Go along and do whatever be done to satisfy your domain, but as I warned ye lot, keep the politics as a..secondary means at best.

The angels would start to serve the gods Ambrosia and various luxurious foods. "You are all dismissed, you may stick around here for one last fast or go right ahead and leave, your all welcome to stay for this little 'celebration' of our freedom. Yes, even you insect bag."
The dragon would release his wings from his brethren, and would gulp down heavy amounts of ambrosia.

Age of Rebuilding: Return of the Gods

Welp, gang's all here. @dragonmancer Now's your chance to UNLEASH THE DRAGON and whatnot.

@SepticGentleman

Give me a moment lads!

Freedom In The Stars: Deathbound [A Suicide Squad inspired sci-fi adventure] (Closed down)

@R31GN we got two monsters of characters! I have a feeling him and Jackal will get along real nice.

Freedom In The Stars: Deathbound [A Suicide Squad inspired sci-fi adventure] (Closed down)

How's my post folks?

Freedom In The Stars: Deathbound [A Suicide Squad inspired sci-fi adventure] (Closed down)

JACKAL WESTARI

Jackal in his boredom, crawled around the ship, trying to get his bearing and memorizing the general layout of their 'magical' home. He didn't bother with the lights either, as his own eyes provided the illumination necessary for vision. He would continue for what seemed like hours, until a variety of banging came from outside the Gladius. Jackal would approach the hanger of the ship, going silent as he continued to hear the desperate banging of moaning of creatures outside. Jackal wished to investigate, but there weren't any windows in the current room to see, the only way to find out was to open the door. The issue came of course, the Jackal wasn't sure how to open the door. Sure he saw his allies leave through there, but he couldn't remember how. The giant reptilian shrug as he saw a pad filled with buttons and pressed one. "lucky guess" he'd think to himself as the door to the ship's hangar opened.

His crododilian eyes widened at the sight that waited for him. Dozens of humans with glowing blue eyes immediately tried to get onto the ship. Despite their urgency, their movements were sluggish and limp, unnatural, Jackal could only describe it as like a puppet. Additionally, the next thing he noticed were many bore fatal wounds and scars that would surely cause death, yet they still remained animate, and they didn't speak, only moaned and other similar sounds.

One of them stood out from the crowd as being the first to reach Jackal, in which he tried to grab and bite the beast. Unfortunately for the 'creature' he bit onto the hard outer scales of Jackal, which would shatter much of his teeth due to how unrestrained the creature used his bite force. Jackal was barely harmed by this, and he would grin wickedly, or at least, attempted to with his saurian lips and monstrous teeth. Just as the corpses were driven by the sole purpose of whatever that was possessing him, Jackal too, was possessed, enslaved by the thirst and instinct for bloodshed. Jackal gave his 'reply' of his own by biting down the neck of the blue-eyed assailant. Lifting it into the air until the head snapped from the neck, His hands would catch the head as he was rushed by another pair of these creatures, which both arms would slam the two attackers into the metal floor of the hangar's door. A third limply followed, which would be impaled directly by the tail of Jackal, right through the chest. They were soft and lacked any sort of coordination or sense of danger. To jackal's surprise, the corpse on his tail continued to move and try and claw and bite at his own tail, disgusted at what he muttered as 'the undead' he used his tail to slam the struggling corpse against the metal surface several times until its body was reduced to pummeled gore. He lifted the other two creatures that were clutched in his hands and rushed back and the swarm of these limp bodies that were pooling into the hangar. Using the two initial, and still struggling, corpses in his hand as weapons as he began to swat them back and fourth at hoards and hoards of their fellow blue-eyed bodies, which continued until one of them finally broke free, granted severely crippled and bruised from Jackal's abuse. Jackal quickly leaped back to avoid being bitten again.

He would stretch up his neck and open his jaws to breathe in oxygen, then he would slowly start to exhale gas from his lungs in a much more sustained breathe, and that released gas wasn't just C02, but the bio-gas his fellow fire-breathers could exhale. With a click of his forked tongue, his mouth suddenly became a 'forge' of utter flames, one could describe it like a small engine or firey vent (Hence "Ventmaw" -cough-) of a ship, as a line of fire trailed from his mouth as he lowered his head, and sprayed fire down upon the still growing horde of the blue-eyed creatures. The sustained breathe lasted for about a minute, in which time he would help bathe the flames over the hoard that were all condensed from trying to fit into the large hangar door, making it easy for him to 'mow down'. The creatures however didn't initially fall, they still continued to run despite being on fire, it wasn't until the intense heat broke down their body into an immobile state did they start to pile down in charred husks of human bodies. Jackal panted, quiet literally out of breathe as he watched the last of the first wave of these creatures collapse in smoldering corpses.

There were a few survivors of the flame bath, which tried to get up from tripping on falling over burned bodies, which Jackal approached and consumed like an animal, there were only three of them and being scattered gave him the time to 'safely' eat at each of these animate bodies. A couple hundred of 'bodies' or at least, what was left of the animate corpses, covered both the bottom half of the hangar ship and the floor around Gladius. And yet, Jackal could hear more moaning in the distance, as evidence as he barely even eliminated a fraction of their 'forces'. The Hellkite continued to pant as he walked back up to the ship, he couldn't recall if anyone was with him or not back in the ship, and he also wondered if the others were alright out there. As he thought this, he also realized how cold it was outside of the ship, with the burning corpses providing little heat, Jackal would start to make a pile of bodies up in the hangar room, and would burn a corpse, one by one, as if starting a camp fire made of corpses. What pieces of flesh that stopped burning he took to eat instead. He kept the door opened in hopes his allies will return in a hurry, while also keeping vigil of it in preparation for another wave to strike. After the first corpse was completely burned into a charred skeleton, Jackal took the skeletal remains of the other yet-to-be-burned corpses and began to remove pieces of their skeletons, which served two purposes. One, it helped him understand the layout of bones in a human body, secondly, and more importantly to Jackal, he began to fashion a primitive weapon out of hair fiber and bone material

Thats when he heard movement again. He stopped building his weapon of bone, in which was difficult due to the poor quality of the fiber to tie it together. He took his silent motion to listen as he heard something crawl in the vents, and also, from the walls outside. Another mob, albeit smaller then the last, seemed to have been busy crawling to the top of the ship, when they heard the hangar open, it took some time to get down, but they did, and were now faced with Jackal. The Gorgas was still exhausted from his previous fire breathe, so he charged, his tail acting as a spear to stack two bodies against each other. As he fought, he now noticed how far from human they were. It wasn't just there difficulty to kill even with mutilation, but their limb proportion was off as well, much longer then humans he recalled. They were fanged, had claws. They were the very definition of an abomination.

As the two corpses struggled to free themselves of Jackal's tail-spear, He would bite down another creature by the neck, taking off its head. It still moved, as if it didn't even need a head, so Jackal kicked it to the ground to allow other sprinting creatures to trip over it. A tremendous roar echoed from Jackal's mouth, so loud, with the help of the metal walls and hallways of the facility, it would echo throughout the entire building and beyond. This didn't phase the creatures, but Jackal's war cry was always something he loved to bring out. As the creatures struggled to get up, Jackal would flap a mighty beat of his wings, sending a tremendous amount of pressure to knock them off of their feet again and tumble down the ramp of the hangar door. As they tried to recover, Jackal enjoyed himself to the two creatures stuck on his tail, taking off limbs one by one with his mouth and the claws on his wings, and happily consuming the torn bits, continuing to do so until they stopped moving. Jackal turned to meet a claw strike his face, some of it hitting the weak scales of a scar he was still recovering from, as well as slashing his very eye. Jackal screamed a roar even louder then the last in both pain and anger as he would press his horned head against the creature and would charge into him, full sprint while carrying him against his horns and forehead, until they left the hangar of the ship and hit the metal wall of the facility. The force was so great that the very wall in front of them was gravely dented. Jackal had his injured eyes closed, the mangled corpse of the creature now had a huge hole in his torso with a destroyed rib cage and half of a spinal cord. He tore off the corpse from his head and turned back to the charging hoard of creatures. His wings would spread and he'd take off into the air, a few meters above the hoard, he then swooped down on an angle, his feet catching the head of one of the creatures as he brutally dragged it across the metal floor until flesh and later bone ripped off the corpse in a trail of gore. he dropped and turned, flying back into the remaining hoard of creatures, with three hands, his two main arms and one from his wings, took hold of three creatures, while his feet kicked away the last two before landing. He would smash two of the creatures together before holding them with both hands of his wings, and held their mangling bodies in place as he ripped one of his main hands into the chest of a third creature, tearing it apart until he found the spinal cord, which he ripped out without hesitation or remorse. Dropping the mutilated corpse he would pin the two other creatures ontop of each other. At this point the two remaining creatures were trying to dogpile and claw away at his back which he ignored for now, his back scales were the strongest and most durable anyway. With the two other creatures stacked against each other on the ground, he would ram a sharp end of the spinal cord through both creatures, he then reached back to grab one of the creatures clawing at him and would take the other end of the spine, spearing it through him and forcing it down until he was stacked with the other two. The last one was smart enough to reach around and tear at the soft scales of his chest, the massive claws of the creature tearing away two chunks of meat from the giant lizard, in which another painful and enraged screech emerged. Jackal threw back the creature a good distance away, then charged onto him with all fours like an utter monstrosity, tearing away at limbs and flesh with 4 arms and a mouth to follow, until the very corpse itself was in bits. He turned to the stacked bodies of the 4 creatures, still alive and trying to separate themselves from the spine. A torrent of fire met their struggle to an end soon after.

Jackal, bleeding and coughing up blood, would start to gather the fresh corpses, taking out their spinal cords and spearing them to the ground. He would set it up much like his days in a tribe, with mutilated corpses stacked on spinal cord spears with a severed head on top. He made about a dozen of them around the ship.

Jackal crawled back to the campfire, holding his bleeding wounds with heavy panting. He could still hear more of them move in the vents, however to the echoing sounds the vents make, he wasn't sure if they were nearby or further in the ship, if there was anyone else in there they might be next. Jackal decided to wait in the hangar again, still with the door open. He was gravely injured but he could survive for now, he could still fight albeit he was tired beyond any exercise he had done before, he could only hope his crew was alright.

Age of Rebuilding: Return of the Gods

@SepticGentleman