El Gato Naranja

♆ 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 ♆ (Roleplay Re-Booted)

Corvus Helstrom, Son of Khione

Location: Cabins
Interaction: Greyson, Anyone in the Pavillion

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"Ohhh... that's a relief." Corvus sighed in relief as Greyson made it clear that his little mishap with the grease laden hand wasn't something he was going to be bothered by. At the very least, he wasn't going to show it. But that was as good as anything for Corvus. After all, the last thing he wanted was someone in the camo to be too annoyed at him. This was a small place, and in such a small circle, it would be better to keep oneself well acquainted with everyone else, and keep a good relationship with them at the same time. Half bloods ought to stick together, after all.

Greyson then said that there was going to be no need to worry about Erin and her quest to redeem herself from everconsuming hellfire, as she has begun to gather people to help her in the journey. "Right... backup." Everyone knew that he could become a cryophoenix at will, so maybe that was something good for being backup.

And of course, a bunch of others, mostly boys, were coming with Erin. Brandon, Tyler, the sons of Thanatos, Dorian, and Spencer... all to disprove that Erin had done something wrong.

Sure enough... their little talk was going to go to an end, as Greyson she promised to meet... someone. Who was he an item with again? Corvus wasn't sure anymore. Memory was spotty right now. "Ah, yes, you were going to the stables, right? Right, okay, um, I'll catch up with you later too, then. Corvus winked back at Greyson, smirking a bit as he looked towards the direction of the Pavillion. "Yes, I'll go and see... have a good talkk with... whoever it is." Corvus would then quickly transform into his little phoenix form, flying over towards the Pavillion. He could have walked... but he's feeling a little lazy today.

---

Mikhael Kravchenko, Son of Asclepius

Location: Infirmary
Interaction: Lukas

"Another day, another dollar, more broken bones, whoops." Mikhael walked back into the infirmary, a clipboard on one hand and a pen in the other. He had been busy keeping track of all the sicknesses and injuries that the people here have been enduring. He was perhaps one of the most meticulous record keepers in here; a befitting trait of a son of the god of medicine.

But, with such meticulous attention, comes a bit of attitude. Of course, anyone who stops to think about it knows that Mikhael is this way because he is very much concerned, but he could be... a little abrasive if someone is a little bad at their job. Rule number one; don't do medical mistakes in front of him.

One of the first things that Mikhael saw as he came in was a novice, who was doing a pretty poor job at venipuncture at a boy. The one who was getting injected had a sweaty face, one contorted with pain while making not one sound in an effort to not make a scene of screams. "Hey, Andreas, was it...?" Mikhael looked over the novice right after he was finished, wearing a face that spoke of... disappointment. "I've taught you this twice already... look at his face, chyort. He looked like like he is going to pop a blood vessel in the brain from trying not to be loud..."

Mikhael sighed. "Be thorough next time." He then disappears back in this self made laboratory, where he concocts medicines and potions out of herbs and other ingredients. He was, after all, a medicine maker. That was his thing.

An hour later, he'd come out, carrying several vials of liquid and then several plastic containers, which contained tablets. They were labelled appropriately, and it wouldn't be long before these were pressed to use, what with emergencies happening almost everyday here.

And, perhaps out of sheer coincidence, he'd bump into Lukas.

"Hey watch- oh, hey, it's you." Mikhael's tone quickly shifted from one of slight irritation to that of someone that was somewhat pleased to meet someone else. "Many emergencies and stuff today, eh?" Mikhael spoke with a marked Russian accent, though it had been tempered by his time here in Camp Half Blood by quite a bit. "Say, I think we should up the safety standards of the... games. And such."

---

Innocence Lost - A Science Fantasy RP [v.03]

Finbarr Callaghan

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"Well, well, well, look at what we have here..." Finbarr looked into the figures behind each bar, deeply hoping to find a familiar face from the Star Marines in there. The way he walked while inspecting the cells at Jan's invitation spoke of confidence and power; the proud stride of one that commanded with an iron fist. This was very far from the truth, though, as he was possibly one of the most well mannered out of the Star Marines, having refused to be tampered by the bloodshed of conflict and the terrors of war. And yet, here he was, pretending to be someone he was not. This kind of acting was supposed to be his career after all those years in the subterranean city in Titan... but he would just get dragged in here, infused with magic derived from grounded up crystal people.

"So, that's the cell for the guest of honor, huh." Finbarr pointed towards the rather prominent cell in the end of the hallway, coated with a great many fortification and primary and secondary systems of technobabble that prevented the artificial intelligence within from simply migrating to the ship's system. It stuck out, as it was pretty big and had an awfully larger amount of lights all over it.

There was this one thing, though. Someone has been talking in the cells. Of course, they all talked one time or another; but this one was just... annoying. He had a funny way of saying things, and... well, the guy got a pretty heated response from someone in the cell right above him.

After disembarking from the elevator, Finbarr walked towards the source of the noise... and surely enough, there was the guy that just kept babbling on and on, much to the others' irritation. And then... on the floor above, there were these two, who had anti-magic collars on, which meant that they were the Star Marines that Jan was talking about.

Maybe he remembered them. Maybe not. Or perhaps they remembered him. Or no, as he was shapeshifted at the moment. "So it's them? The famed magic kids?" Finbarr asked Jan with a voice with a slight tone of disdain, as if he was a commanding officer finding a bunch of deserters. "Hmm, you got a name, eeeh?" He looked straight at Alan's soul as he asked his name. "And is the man below bothering you?"

---

Rosefell High.

Eleazar Nikolavich Diaz-Sapohznik

The sweet aroma of grilled meats had begun perforating the air with great pleasure, mixed in with the somewhat burnt odour of used charcoal. Grilling was no easy job for one person, not with these many customers holding out their plates and waiting for their turns to get a barbeque, or a steak or a burger patty and whatever else. Eleazar glanced towards his sister, who had taken to making French Fries with a portable gas stove. Those were good too... and would probably get wiped out within thirty minutes, as high schoolers had titanic appetites for greasy food.

In either case, Eleazar would find the guy from Liberty that Cael was clearly very happy to meet hold out his plate, asking for a burger.

"Of course, monsieur..." Eleazar would then take a well grilled steal off the grill with a gripper, and with decent speed, slap it in between two burger bread slices with sesame seeds on top, as well as melted cheese and a healthy serving of ketchup. "You want this to have mustard too?" He asked Christian that much, because some people weren't fans of mustard. Hopefully he was, otherwise he'd be missing out.

It wouldn't be long before another person came in. A girl... and she seemed to know Spike. He didn't know her, so she was probably from Liberty. Either way, she was saying things about getting a burger and a hotdog, which immediately piqued his interest.

"Well, well, I've got melted cheese slices here along with the meat, so just say what you want to get!" Carefully taking a hotdog, he then looked over towards Tyler, and then at Spike. "So it's gonna be a burger for Spikey, and a hotdog for... what's your name? Mines Eleazar. You can call me Elea... or Zar. Anything works as long as it makes sense with my actual name."

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Azariah Kravchenko

_______________________________ NAME: Azariah Kravchenko AGE: 25 RACE: Karlezek PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Mithras HEIGHT: 5' WEIGHT: 100 lbs _______________________________ "Don't look down."

Azariah Kravchenko _______________________________ The Keeper The Keeper "I only seek wealth... and friendship." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ What are you? What are you? APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Damn, everyone's so much bigger." Perhaps the first thing people think when seeing Azariah is that he’s… well, unimpressive. Short and light, he does not look like someone that could really bring a beating to anyone. Strangely enough, his hair is white, perhaps because of a birth defect, or the magic that he had immersed himself in. He keeps his hair neat in a buzz cut, though he would sometimes opt for an undercut instead. Azariah is pretty fair skinned at the day, but at the night, he reverts to a light purple. Underneath, Azariah has a rather toned body due to the hard work that he did while studying as an apprentice. For his wardrobe, he usually wears cloaks over his tunic and trousers, as he often feels cold. He seems to like black and blue the most. CAPABILITIES ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Arise, my… uh, six legged walking rock?" While at a disadvantage due to his short stature, Azariah is nevertheless a fairly competent swordsman, being able to hold his own against most opponents that would be encountered in the wilderness. He is not a true master, as it is not his focus; it is purely for defense, as Azariah is a magic wielder. In particular he is one of the few Karlezek that still knows the arts of mechanical animation; or, more properly, he had learned from someone who did. In theory, any material can be used to create a functioning animatronic; however, the actual creation of one requires sigils to be written on each working joint and cog, and each sigil has to have specific parameters of movement. The Karlezek had expedited this process by building metal shells with specific instructions on what sigils to place and where, but those are limited in number and can't really be replaced while in the middle of the wilderness. The rest of his spells are mostly offensive in nature, seeking to harm opponents. However, being simply an apprentice, they are often time consuming to cast, as the translations are rather difficult to pronounce. Most of the time, he is able to conjure balls of fire and bolts of lightning, though he rarely does this as it is too slow of a process. EQUIPMENT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I have everything I need." Azariah has a forged steel broadsword, which is half his length. As backup, he keeps a dagger hidden inside his coat. As a magician, Azariah has a tome. He had only mastered Mechanical Animation. Speaking of which, Azariah also uses a pair of Karlezek magishells animated by magic sigils for protection. Made from steel, they have the likeness of monkeys, and their primary purpose is to protect Azariah from attack through their razor sharp claws and teeth, though he is able to control them with verbal commands. He only uses one at a time as they are irreplaceable if destroyed or lost.

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Who are you?
Who are you?

GOAL
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
"I will get rich, but I will do so my way."

Unlike others, who seek vengeance against slavers or are looking for lost family members, Azariah has a far more mundane goal. He found a rigid life within the walls of Mithras that kept a strict hierarchy as the norm as boring. He also wants to shirk the responsibilities of being the heir of a clan of traders while still getting rich. He pretty much wants to see the world, even if it is one laden with chaos. After all, what good is his magic and sword training if he can't use them?

PERSONALITY
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
"Don’t give me the hard jobs, damn it!"

Azariah is a laid back, carefree person, disinterested in taking up the responsibilities that have been expected of him by society. It may seem that he’s selfish, and maybe even a lazy bum, but Azariah is simply not cut out for being a master; at least that is what he tells himself. He believes in choosing his own path in life, nevermind what everyone tells him to do. However, he is loyal to a fault, at least to those that respect his life choices, and will do anything short of dying to keep a friend safe. Azariah is friendly to most, eschewing the rudeness and cynical attitude that the average rough Deadwooder shows.

Having been raised in the walled off society of Mithras, Azariah does not know the horrors as well as others; while he knows about all of them through books and stories, he is yet to face the likes of Grief Demons, slavers, and other monstrosities. He has, however, a good comprehensive knowledge on known creatures. Azariah is thus a little naive; though his optimism and continual hope for the future serves as a light in any group. He knows when to speak, and usually keeps quiet when someone is in the process of exploding.

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Why are you?
Why are you?

"Life within walls is torture."

Azariah Kravchenko was born and raised on Mithras, the child of Karlezek traders. He was told that some of their brethren came to the flying city when the queen invited the mages of Deadwood to Exusia;some of the best and brightest of the Karlezek mages left the cities of their kind to live a life of disconnection from the rest of the world. It would seem that their decision to leave was a wise one, as the world exploded, taking two thirds of the Karlkezek realm with it in the cataclysm. These Karlezek would stay on Exusia, becoming a small but wealthy community of magefolk, traders, and warriors.

Azariah grew up in relative stability within the walls of Mithras, every day of his life being spent within its halls and noble mansions. He was also given the best tutors by his parents. However, it was their intention to marry him off in an arranged marriage in an effort to keep their failing trade afloat.

He knew that this was his eventual fate as their eldest heir, and he had no intention of letting it happen. After all, it was, in his perspective, boring, tedious, and full of intrigue and the danger of assassination in the middle of the night by his own kind. What he wanted was to get to the flying city and be free of all the responsibilities of being an heir while doing whatever the hell he wants. Truthfully, he was spurred on by the mage that he studied under as an apprentice. His master, Harukou, said that life within these walls will get tedious eventually, as seeing the same things again and again was not living. Plus, sooner or later, they will have to reclaim the dead lands; no city will not last forever. No civilization ever does. They might as well go Exusia and then get rich there, and then maybe help to reclaim the lands after that. Sad thing was, Exusia only lets in those that it wants. He was, as such, resigned to his eventual arranged marriage and boring, useless life… until an advertisement showed up in the central plaza of Mithras, telling of an offer for anyone brave or foolish enough to investigate the lands, in exchange for being allowed into Exusia and gain great wealth...

It smelled of freedom.

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What else is there?
What else is there?

He is a cook, and is also skilled at celestial navigation (navigating using the stars and constellations).

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

@Maxx@Atrophy@KremeSupreme@Zombiedude101

To start, all four of you are accepted.

---

@The Man Emperor Now, I kinda feel like he has a bit too many abilities + equipment tbh. He's a great swordsman, has a magic sword (which is kinda vague as to what exactly it does), and he's an accomplished magician. Probably my big thing is the latter because you don't go too much into the rituals and stuff needed to cast these spells. Look at Hazel. I kinda want people to have one niche if you know what I mean.

I'm gonna grab some food and get to everyone else later.

@The Ghost Note

Ok fixed wa

Rosefell High.

Grisha Blackmore, Liberty High

Grisha Blackmore

Name

Gregory "Grisha" Salazar Blackmore

Nickames

Greg, Grish

Age

18

Gender

A MAN

Sexuality

Asexual. Never horni.

Relationship Status

No girlfriend since birth

Label

The Historian | The Gamer | A Weeb

Grade

Senior

School

Liberty High

Appearance Details

• Hair: Black (Natural), Grey (Colored) | Straight | Undercut
• Eyes: Brown; wears horn rimmed glasses at times.
• Height: 5'8"
• Body Type: While titanically overweight during elementary and kindergarten, Grisha had worked hard for the last five years, getting a decently lean body in the process.
• Clothing Style: Grisha is not picky when it comes to his wardrobe. He could wear the blackest and saddest stuff one day and then put on the happiest colors in the next. There is no real pattern to it; he picks whatever he sees first. However, he is most usually seen with a dark colored shirt and an unspoiled white hoodie.
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings: Nothing here; just virgin skin.

Personality Traits

Protective - Generous - Dedicated - Observant - Intelligent - Aggressive - Assuming - Suspicious - Warfreak

Biography

Gregory "Grisha" was born on Los Angeles, California, as the first born son of Patricia Salazar, a Filipina, and Terrence Blackmore, an attorney that owned a law firm. Their life was one of good comfort. They were not ultra elites like those casino regulars in the night life of LA, but they were rich enough to both pay off the astronomical housing and land prices in California while sending all three of their kids to good schools. Grisha grew up along a sister and a brother, both of whom he had to deal with as the eldest. To this end, he'd eventually be the nurturing, perhaps overprotective person he is today, as those two often got in trouble in their later years while he chased them around. They would, however, move to Columbus after Terrence took an offer from his uncle, who happened to be all the way in Ohio. It was for the better, anyway, as LA at night was becoming quite tempting for the kids.

For three of his high school years, Grisha attended Liberty High, becoming a decent enough student for most parents to be satisfied with. Though he just couldn't get himself to ever like anyone romantically. The feeling is simply not there, even if someone was already flirting with him. He'd find interests in subjects like histiry… and gaming. He'd even be a Twitch streamer at times. And so, high school flew on…

But just as he was about to enter senior year, Liberty High closed for unknown reasons. The only choice he had was to go to some grubby, rundown school, and he's not gonna like it so much... though he started dying his hair grey because he as no longer bound by Liberty's rules. Neat, huh?

Family

Patricia Salazar (Mother): "My mom will charge into the principal's office if she so much sees a scratch on me…"

Terrence Blackmore (Father): "When he's not in the courtroom, he's grilling."

Sasha Blackmore (Sister): "She likes ponies. I will kill you if you touch her."

Marcell Blackmore (Brother): "The gayest man alive."

Misc.

Derrick Monasterio | #F5B041

He has a pair of bearded dragons as pets.
His Twitch username is YourMomma.
He is fluent in English, Tagalog, and Ilokano.
He walks with a limp as his left leg is slightly shorter than the right.

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Karlezek

_______________________________________________ LIFESPAN: ~250 years | HEIGHT: 4'6" - 5'1" | WEIGHT: ~110 lbs FREQUENCY: Uncommon | MAIN SETTLEMENT: The mountain range west of Dakora and the Shattered Isles |

DESCRIPTION ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Deep within the mountains of the world are ancient dungeons and halls, most of which are empty and devoid of life. These lands, however, used to be part of a greater realm, an empire that once called itself the lords of the mountains. This empire is now fallen, a shadow of its former self. These are, of course, the Karlezek; a technologically advanced race of humanoids that once prided themselves as owners of a vast empire. Often known as Dwarves by the other races due to their short stature, the Karzelek nonetheless possess greater strength. They are skillful artisans and blacksmiths, making some of the best armor and weapons in the whole of Deadwood. When exposed to sunlight, their naturally light purple skin becomes pale. They do not seem to become darker with continual solar exposure, and don't get sunburned. Perhaps the most well known and feared part of the Karlezek arsenal are their machines; or rather, the empty metal shells animated by sigils of magic written unto each of their joints and cogs. Like the kisha of the Augury, these silent guardians act as protectors, and in those strongholds where the Karlezek had either fled or died, some of these watchful sentinels remain, guarding the treasures of their deceased masters. These machines have become rarer these days due to the fear of magic that has spread all over Deadwood and even into the realm of the Karlezek, who had a long, varied magical tradition before and after the Cataclysm. Few are those that still possess the knowledge to create them, and fewer still are those that are willing to inherit these feared arts. A few Karlezek have resided in Exusia since before the fall.

Azariah Kravchenko

_______________________________ NAME: Azariah Kravchenko AGE: 25 RACE: Karlezek PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Mithras HEIGHT: 5' WEIGHT: 100 lbs _______________________________ "Don't look down."

Azariah Kravchenko _______________________________ The Keeper The Keeper "I only seek wealth... and friendship." ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ What are you? What are you? APPEARANCE ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Damn, everyone's so much bigger." Perhaps the first thing people think when seeing Azariah is that he’s… well, unimpressive. Short and light, he does not look like someone that could really bring a beating to anyone. Strangely enough, his hair is white, perhaps because of a birth defect, or the magic that he had immersed himself in. He keeps his hair neat in a buzz cut, though he would sometimes opt for an undercut instead. Azariah is pretty fair skinned at the day, but at the night, he reverts to a light purple. Underneath, Azariah has a rather toned body due to the hard work that he did while studying as an apprentice. For his wardrobe, he usually wears cloaks over his tunic and trousers, as he often feels cold. He seems to like black and blue the most. CAPABILITIES ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Arise, my… uh, six legged walking rock?" While at a disadvantage due to his short stature, Azariah is nevertheless a fairly competent swordsman, being able to hold his own against most opponents that would be encountered in the wilderness. He is not a true master, as it is not his focus; it is purely for defense, as Azariah is a magic wielder. In particular he is one of the few Karlezek that still knows the arts of mechanical animation; or, more properly, he had learned from someone who did. In theory, any material can be used to create a functioning animatronic; however, the actual creation of one requires sigils to be written on each working joint and cog, and each sigil has to have specific parameters of movement. The Karlezek had expedited this process by building metal shells with specific instructions on what sigils to place and where, but those are limited in number and can't really be replaced while in the middle of the wilderness. The rest of his spells are mostly offensive in nature, seeking to harm opponents. However, being simply an apprentice, they are often time consuming to cast, as the translations are rather difficult to pronounce. Most of the time, he is able to conjure balls of fire and bolts of lightning, though he rarely does this as it is too slow of a process. EQUIPMENT ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I have everything I need." Azariah has a forged steel broadsword, which is half his length. As backup, he keeps a dagger hidden inside his coat. As a magician, Azariah has a tome. He had only mastered Mechanical Animation. Speaking of which, Azariah also uses a pair of Karlezek magishells animated by magic sigils for protection. Made from steel, they have the likeness of monkeys, and their primary purpose is to protect Azariah from attack through their razor sharp claws and teeth, though he is able to control them with verbal commands. He only uses one at a time as they are irreplaceable if destroyed or lost.

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Who are you?
Who are you?

GOAL
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
"I will get rich, but I will do so my way."

Unlike others, who seek vengeance against slavers or are looking for lost family members, Azariah has a far more mundane goal. He found a rigid life within the walls of Mithras that kept a strict hierarchy as the norm as boring. He also wants to shirk the responsibilities of being the heir of a clan of traders while still getting rich. He pretty much wants to see the world, even if it is one laden with chaos. After all, what good is his magic and sword training if he can't use them?

PERSONALITY
_{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}
"Don’t give me the hard jobs, damn it!"

Azariah is a laid back, carefree person, disinterested in taking up the responsibilities that have been expected of him by society. It may seem that he’s selfish, and maybe even a lazy bum, but Azariah is simply not cut out for being a master; at least that is what he tells himself. He believes in choosing his own path in life, nevermind what everyone tells him to do. However, he is loyal to a fault, at least to those that respect his life choices, and will do anything short of dying to keep a friend safe. Azariah is friendly to most, eschewing the rudeness and cynical attitude that the average rough Deadwooder shows.

Having been raised in the walled off society of Mithras, Azariah does not know the horrors as well as others; while he knows about all of them through books and stories, he is yet to face the likes of Grief Demons, slavers, and other monstrosities. He has, however, a good comprehensive knowledge on known creatures. Azariah is thus a little naive; though his optimism and continual hope for the future serves as a light in any group. He knows when to speak, and usually keeps quiet when someone is in the process of exploding.

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Why are you?
Why are you?

"Life within walls is torture."

Azariah Kravchenko was born and raised on Mithras, the child of Karlezek traders. He was told that some of their brethren came to the flying city when the queen invited the mages of Deadwood to Exusia;some of the best and brightest of the Karlezek mages left the cities of their kind to live a life of disconnection from the rest of the world. It would seem that their decision to leave was a wise one, as the world exploded, taking two thirds of the Karlkezek realm with it in the cataclysm. These Karlezek would stay on Exusia, becoming a small but wealthy community of magefolk, traders, and warriors.

Azariah grew up in relative stability within the walls of Mithras, every day of his life being spent within its halls and noble mansions. He was also given the best tutors by his parents. However, it was their intention to marry him off in an arranged marriage in an effort to keep their failing trade afloat.

He knew that this was his eventual fate as their eldest heir, and he had no intention of letting it happen. After all, it was, in his perspective, boring, tedious, and full of intrigue and the danger of assassination in the middle of the night by his own kind. What he wanted was to get to the flying city and be free of all the responsibilities of being an heir while doing whatever the hell he wants. Truthfully, he was spurred on by the mage that he studied under as an apprentice. His master, Harukou, said that life within these walls will get tedious eventually, as seeing the same things again and again was not living. Plus, sooner or later, they will have to reclaim the dead lands; no city will not last forever. No civilization ever does. They might as well go Exusia and then get rich there, and then maybe help to reclaim the lands after that. Sad thing was, Exusia only lets in those that it wants. He was, as such, resigned to his eventual arranged marriage and boring, useless life… until an advertisement showed up in the central plaza of Mithras, telling of an offer for anyone brave or foolish enough to investigate the lands, in exchange for being allowed into Exusia and gain great wealth...

It smelled of freedom.

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What else is there?
What else is there?

He is a cook, and is also skilled at celestial navigation (navigating using the stars and constellations).

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

@The Man Emperor So me and Zomb were talking about it for a few days and we've decided to decline this race. Zomb's primary problem was that they seem to be "human-lite" - basically humans but with a magic ability - and he doesn't want to set a precedent. They aren't really what we are looking for in terms of races, tbh. My issue is that magic is a strictly learned ability. I don't want to complicate things by adding nineteen different magic systems.

Look at races like the ones Maxx submitted to get a better idea of what we want.

@The Ghost Note

I'll convert them to lizardmen then

Edit: Or not

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Not this one

Deadwood: Hope, Death, & Misery [Closed]

Dragonborne

Dragonborne

_______________________________________________ LIFESPAN: 200+ years | HEIGHT: 5’2” - 5’11” | WEIGHT: 135 lbs | FREQUENCY: Uncommon; few Dragonborne venture beyond their capital city, Mithras. There is, however, a community of wealthy Dragonborne in Exusia. | MAIN SETTLEMENT: Mithras | In between Hope and the Sorrowfields

DESCRIPTION ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ The ancestors of the Dragonborne used to be ordinary humans, until they were turned to their current state by Mitharos and Elkaria, a pair of dragons that wielded powerful magic. These ancestors were said to have been incolcacated with the blood of dragons, granting them heightened parameters. These Dragonborne had the twin dragons as their rulers, formed a pair of city states south of modern Hope and north of the Sorrowfields named in honour of the ones that had turned them into a powerful race; Mithras and Elkrosius. These cities were centers of trade and commerce until the cataclysm that wrecked the whole world, where Elkrosius was completely destroyed, and half of Mithras was completely obliterated. Mitharos and Elkaria were both killed in the event, leaving the Council of High Lords to lead the remaining Dragonborne. The surviving half of Mithras is a shadow of its former self, but it serves as a safe haven in the wilderness, as well as a shelter for persecuted magefolk. Mithras has managed to survive the years after the cataclysm rather well, with the Council of High Lords holding the remaining half of the city together. As such, Mithras and its surrounding area has remained untouched by raiders and slavers, who fear the fierce warriors and witches of the Dragonborne. The Dragonborne, as a whole, are slightly shorter in average than baseline humans, but have greater physical strength and a longer lifespan. Dragonborne are also resistant to fire damage. They look no different to humans, except for the fact that their eyes glow a bright gold or cerulean; the colors of Mitharos and Elkaria, respectively. They usually have pale skin due to their region having constant cloud cover. Dragonborne are not well known by the other races due to their reclusive nature. Most of the time, the only thing the average person could tell about them is that they're a race of people with glowing eyes, and not much else. However, those who are knowledgeable about them know not to underestimate the ones with dragon blood flowing in their veins.