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Hello, I'm Dragon, or whatever clever or not so clever thing you conjure up to call me. I have been role playing since my grammar would make your eyes water. I hope that I am no longer making people cry because of poor writing anymore. You can be the judge of that. I am an artist and a writer, hoping to make a career out of one or both of those things. I love to read. I hardly discriminate when it comes to reading, but my favorite genre is fantasy. That is where a lot of my inspiration and passion is, and a lot of what I hope to write and publish is in the fantasy genre. I love world building and character design, and it is something that I hope to keep improving.

As for other interests I love video games, Skyrim being my all time favorite and the Dishonored games coming after that. I love music and my taste is all over the place. My favorite movie is Jurassic Park, which probably says a lot about my personality. I love nature and the outdoors, and I have recently delved into Vulture Culture.

School is an all consuming factor in my life currently, so my schedule fully revolves around keeping up with homework and whatnot. I am a nerd who cares about my GPA, and a nerd in general.

As far as writing goes, length consistency fluctuates, but I tend to write a substantial amount. I have a habit of writing a lot of guy characters, which I attribute to growing up with guys when I was younger and my favorite books having main male characters. Who knows? I am comfortable writing either gender though. I think that communication is huge in role playing, and talking about it keeps the interest alive. I haven't done a group RP in some time now, and I am not sure where my interest is in those anymore. More recently I have been 1x1.

I am sorry if you actually read all of that. I don't think that was the most interesting thing you could have read. I have recommendations if you think any of that was fun or engaging.

Most Recent Posts

Arendal Nevarth

The man seemed rather intrigued by his own sporadic train of thought, but it was proving to be a decent enough distraction for Arendal, so he humored the questions to the best of his ability.

"I was born after the war was over. I am young for an elf. Older for a human," he answered, eyes still scanning everything. It was unnerving to feel like one was walking around in a tomb. Especially when the air itself seemed off. "For most of the elves that fought in the war, it is still a bit of an open wound. There is still a lot of resentment for your kind in some respect, though its mainly for the ones who live outside of Aigeovarth. I have heard of the many atrocities though. Many times over." Since he was born after the war, he had only really experienced the unity and rebirth that existed, never living through what his parents did. It was not something that was shoved to the side and ignored though. He was not shielded from the bloody truth that came right before his own time.

A small sound caught his attention from somewhere in the distance. Straining his ears he listened for anything to happen again, but only the sound of their footsteps could be heard. "As for ghosts... I believe in the possibility." Lifting his staff so it no longer clicked as they walked he reduced some of the noise. He knew that he heard something. It could have been anything though. A shifting stone, a rat... Being in dark ruins left a lot of room for imagination.

Sloan "Rowen" Warrington

After watching the spectacle that was the hunter trying to procure a place to sleep she ordered another drink, sitting down at the table that he had been at and ignoring the occasional odd glance in her direction. It was a new sort of attention, but one that she really didn't care about considering she was now so much closer than she had been in a very long time. Her mind lingered on the possibility of what they may or may not find. As dark as her thoughts grew, she couldn't shake the foolish hope that had been rekindled. Rowen wasn't expecting to find her sister alive. But the small portion of her still wanted to believe that she was still alive.

When her drink was finished she headed off to bed. Doing her best to stifle all of the thoughts inside her head she tried to fall asleep. Thankfully, it came quicker than it had in a long time.

The next morning she woke early and put all her armor back on and making sure that her sword was securely strapped on. When everything was packed neatly she went downstairs, a bit more apprehensive than she had been the night before.
Arendal Nevarth

Arendal could have named thousands of more reasonable things to do than go any deeper into the ruins. Yet, that did not stop him from following after the man, a morbid curiosity beginning to grow inside of him. Hand clutching tightly onto his staff he ventured into the dimness.

It felt like he was walking into a tomb, the old air drying out his throat. A look of disgust was lost in the dark, only to be illuminated by a light of the man's own creation. Arendal wasn't as lost in the darkness, but they were far better off seeing what was coming, even if that meant something would equally see them coming as well. "I suppose it will be a lot better than stumbling onto something and all of us being surprised. Or, falling into a hole," he trailed off, pointing to a gaping area that had been obscured. Walking over to it he peered over the side. It wouldn't have been a pleasant fall, but the floor was visible below, covered in the fallen debris. Backing away from the hole he hoped that it was age that made it cave in.

From the outside, the structure really didn't look like much. Being on the inside really showed that there was more to it than he had anticipated.

Sloan "Rowen" Warrington

Her gut wrenched, in shock and relief. She had finally found the help that she desperately needed. Even if it was far too late. If she had been looking at the situation from the outside, she would have thought it was foolish. Completely foolish. She abandoned everything she had made for herself, left behind the stability that she had fought to gain. Now she was giving up all the money that she had. All for what she knew was probably a lost cause.

The difference was she wasn't ready to accept the fact that her sister was dead. Rowen had no one left. She had already given her world to her sister, so she may as well give it up to search for her. There was nothing left to lose.

There was no smile, no tears of joy or outcry. She only nodded. "Alright," she said, extending her hand and meeting his gaze with a determined look. "We have a deal then."

Arendal Nevarth

Arendal was a bit put off by the man. He wasn’t scared, but he wasn’t exactly comfortable either. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it to stay or not. Another crash of thunder made him grimace. The choice had been made, so he was just going to go along with it all.

Following the man further he listened to him intently. There were not many humans that he encountered who were really attuned to the magics of the land. Most of the time he tried to close himself off from anything outside his own creation. Outside magic had occasional effects over him, resulting in things that he was not keen on people seeing.

He could feel a weird energy about the place, but without really searching it was like a distant hum. Something lost if he was not looking for it. That was how accustomed to shutting out everything else that he had become. When the man told him to reach out, he was hesitant. For one, he was still unsure about the man. He also didn’t know what he would find if he let himself reach out. Hesitant, he closed his eyes, letting the inner curtain of his mind open a bit as he tentatively reached out.
Sloan "Rowen" Warrington

Rowen was not one to blanch at much, but she couldn’t help but almost hesitate when he spoke. It was nothing on his part though. It was more of a sudden realization that this was really her last hope, and without him she would have no hope of finding her sister. “I need your help finding my sister. I have spent a lot of time trying to track you down. Multiple sources pointed me to you, so I have a feeling if you can’t help me, then no one can.

As many people as she had spoken to, everyone was assuring her that it was a lost cause. All the pity stares, all the meaningless and empty words of encouragement. It meant nothing. She wanted help. “Before I waste any of my time or yours, I am going to tell you that everyone else that I have spoken to has told me that she has long been dead and I am chasing nothing but a lost hope. My sister has been gone for months. She was taken by what I can only assume was a bandit clan. One that had more than one dengore rider in its company.” There was an angry light in her eyes as she thought back to that night, her sister’s screams piercing through all of the other chaos. “I am willing to pay all that I have and then some. Whether or not she is dead or alive.

She was aware that some of the people at surrounding tables had grew quiet trying to listen to the foolish person speaking to the hunter. Nothing but an answer could make her feel any worse than she already did, so she ignored the not so subtle stares and whispers.
Arendal Nevarth

The ruins grew closer and closer, and he continued on at a fair pace. The wind had picked up at his back, speeding him along. A low rumble of distant and rolling thunder made it clear that he wouldn't have made it back to the village in time. He only hoped that the ruins would provide decent enough shelter for him to avoid being soaked. Since it was so close to the border he hoped that he wouldn't have to contend with anything else. Just because Brevyon detested magic didn't mean it didn't exist. There were plenty of things that like the type of energy that places like that; none of which he cared to encounter on a good day, let alone when a storm was coming.

The ruins were now upon him, and he could tell that it was a lot more intact that it had seemed from a distance. A lot of overgrowth had obscured parts that were still standing, and he knew that it would be sufficient enough.

Out of the shadow of an opening a figure seemed to melt out, taking him by surprise. His hand gripped his staff a bit tighter as he assessed the situation that he just walked into. A man stood there, his bright eyes surveying Arendal. Behind him an ethereal wolf watched as well. He was momentarily put off by the man's appearance, but his tone wasn't exactly threatening though.

If he had wanted to harm him he probably could have done it while he wasn't paying attention instead of surprising him like he did. Still, Arendal didn't fully let his guard down. "That is why my kind avoid coming near the border," he said, regaining his composure. "I was under the impression that I would find this place empty. I made the mistake of misjudging the weather when I set out this morning. I was hoping to stay out of the storm."

He still hoped to do so, but didn't want to start something if the man was doing something in the ruins that he was trying to hide.
Sloan "Rowen" Warrington

Rowen had ordered a drink and sat herself down amidst a good many people, hoping to catch any information before she had to start digging for it herself. She was good at finding things out, and she was no stranger to inquiring about things that could be touchy. However there was a reluctance and weariness in her to have to coerce people into talking. Besides, it seemed as though her hunter had a reputation from all that she had heard, and the last thing that she wanted was to get herself into trouble by asking one wrong question.

The longer she sat the more she heard. None of it seemed to be what she needed though. There was enough to keep her mildly entertained and stall her from her inquisition. There was a lot of talk about the wall, the things that people had seen on the other side, and stories of things that had gotten through before. Creatures she had only heard of before were mentioned, described in exaggerated ways, and there were things that she had never heard of before that she could only take the word of the people for.

She had gotten another drink and just started on it when the place seemed to die. Looking up she saw that a man had walked in. Immediately she knew that this was who she had been searching for. The silence was broken by the woman doing her best to get him to leave, only affirming what she knew already by calling him 'hunter'. She must have been staring, because when he began to walk towards a table he nodded in her direction. Even after realizing she still couldn't look away. For the first time in a while it felt like she was potentially getting closer to finding her sister, even if it was just a fleeting feeling.

The atmosphere of the place had shifted drastically, some people leaving, others sharing whispers or beginning to drunkenly carry on their conversations. Finishing her second drink she built up the nerve to get up and go over to him. The only thing she feared was him saying no, not the glances that seemed to bore into her back with every step that brought her closer to where he was sitting.

Arendal Nevarth

Normally Arendal was not one to wander anywhere close to Brevyon. There were certain dangers associated with the area, and the closer that one got to the border, the less likely you were to find anyone but humans or those strong enough to handle whatever occasionally trickled out of Brevyon. It was not a welcoming environment, the shadow of death still having purchase over the land. He knew that it was foolish to really fear any of it. The dead would stay dead, and the living he was more than capable of handling. Above all, there wasn't much of a reason for him to be near Brevyon.

Except for this time. A small favor for a dwarven barkeep that he was fond of, and did odd jobs for whenever he passed through that way. While he had been rather reluctant to go in the first place he agreed. All he had to do was deliver a letter and a small sum of money to one of the dwarf's relatives that was working on opening a shop and needed the investment to get started. He had been paid in advanced, and he hadn't picked up any jobs while in the town, so he had decided to start off in another direction and not linger around.

It had been a while since he had stayed anywhere for longer than a week. In recent months all he had done was go from town to town running errands for people, or just travelling. There had been a desire to move. A restlessness had formed inside of him, and it was something that he still couldn't put a reason or name to. Being aware of it yet not understanding the reason was irritating. So he decided that he would go along with the urge. There was little else he could do.

For the most part the weather had held up, and he got a good ways from the village. When the clouds began to appear in the distance he knew that he was in for a storm. There wasn't time to turn around, and he really didn't want to gamble making it back in time. So he began to look for somewhere dry to stay as the clouds slowly crawled closer and closer across the sky.

It didn't take too long for him to spot a ruin in the distance, though he couldn't tell if it would make for decent shelter or not. Still, it was the closest thing around and he didn't have time to be picky if he wanted to avoid the soaking that a storm would give him.

Sloan "Rowen" Warrington

Nothing would have been more pleasing than to wring the neck of the man who had given her advice. Realistically, she had no way of knowing that Warren would have been so far out of her way. Especially not from where she had been north of the capital. Rowen had been unable to afford a map, having left home with hardly enough to eat with. A lot of her money had come from failed plunder, and that she had been saving up to get help with.

After spending two weeks travelling she was finally in the rather meek but fortified Warren. The underground highway had been a straight shot through, and she had even been able to ride with a group of supply merchant after walking half way. There had been no real conversation, and despite her gratitude she had kept to herself. The tunnel itself was well constructed, relying on a natural cavern that ran under Grimlaw that the dwarves had used to their advantage while excavating and creating the highway. Large stone arches with intricate stonework supported the ceiling that disappeared into dark obscurity at some points. There was nothing like the handiwork of the dwarves. Even the castles of Brevyon were mere shacks compared to all that she had seen since her return to her homeland, a thought that still felt foreign to her.

Parting ways with the merchants at the end of the tunnel she was greeted with rain. In the tunnel it would have been impossible to tell what time it was had their not been elaborate clocks. She had expected it to be a lot lighter out when she left, but the downpour and darkened sky had dimmed the daylight. The lights of the town were welcoming through the gloom though, and after inquiring to one of the guards who was standing watch at the mouth of the tunnel she was told there was an inn where she would be able to get a place to stay just up the road a bit.

Around her, other travelers were making their way through the street, heading beyond Warren. Others were finding their buyers, or, like her, heading to the inn. It was not a hard place to find, being one of the biggest buildings in the whole town. This only made sense because they had to accommodate all the people travelling through. As she grew closer she could hear the boisterous people inside, many of whom just seemed like they were getting out of the rain for a drink. There was a large porch that stretched across the entire front of the inn, a lot of people loitering around under the cover and chatting.

It was so strange to see everyone so at ease with one another. Strangers and friends alike. Heading inside the warmth of a fire and from all the people hanging around inside began to ease the chill that being underground then in the rain had brought on.

Every day that passed only strengthened her need to find serious help in searching for her missing sister. That is what led her to Warren. The reputation of a certain man had gotten around, and from what she had heard there was no better person to track down the people who took her sister. That is, if she could find him first. Last that she was able to piece together was that he was off towards Warren, which was still no guarantee that she would find him there.

There wasn't much to go on though, so there she was.

Getting a room for a day to start out with, she ended up in a corner room upstairs. The noise from down below her was muffled, even more so when she thanked one of the innkeepers and discarded her things onto the floor. When she looked up her reflection in the small vanity mirror caught her attention. There were dark circles under her eyes that seemed almost a permanent feature as of the recent months. Her usually short cropped hair had grown out a bit, which she would need to take care of before it became the awkward length where it was too short to do much with, but too long to keep from her face. It was still damp from the rain, so she pushed it to the side.

There was no real reason for her to facade that she was a boy anymore. There were no repercussions of it, and in Aigeovarth it wouldn't make a difference. She was beginning to grow from the habit, but she didn't correct anyone if they were mistaken. Rowen also chose to go by Sloan. For years the only person to call her that was her sister. So she chose to keep only one part of her disguise. Things were far less personal that way, and that made everything easier.

Back downstairs she went for a drink, hoping to figure out where her tracker was if she could.
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