Fantasy Dragonsea: The End of Magic - CS

[Rexcaliburr]

Please use the following form for your CS, but feel free to pretty it up and add more content if you so feel it fitting! Please refer to the guidelines to ensure that your character fits the universe of Dragonsea: The End of Magic. Don't worry, it's a very open world. The form is also very simple so feel free to add more as you see fit!

Guidelines:

1. Your character can be anything except a dragon or an all-fearing, invincible god. This includes but is not limited to: humans, elves, orcs, trolls, faeries, fae, spirits, animal morphs.
2. Try to keep your character to a fantasy/medieval style. Almost anything goes, but you will look a little out of place if you're a shiny metal mech amongst fantasy warriors. If you're not sure, feel free to just put it down in your CS anyway and I'll PM you if there's any serious thing that needs changing. Otherwise you can always contact me first!
3. As always, don't make them OP, don't have them able to kill people by just looking at them, etc, we all know these.
4. Feel free to reference Dragonfable or D&D for classes and races.
5. Feel free to use images for appearances or you can write it if you prefer!

The Form:

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race/Species:
Class:

Appearance:

Personality:

History:

Attack Type: (Magical/Physical)

Weapons:

 

[Rexcaliburr]

Ahrrahk, the Sentinel

Location: | Interacting with: | Mentions:

Name: Ahrrahk
Gender: Female
Age: 6 human years, equivalent to full fledged adult.
Race/Species: Avia, otherwise known as a variety of bird-people.
Class: Mage

Appearance:




Personality: Ahrrahk likes to think of herself as a true believer of justice and the upholder of truth above all else. Her means of doing so however are questionable at times. She is very much into justice to the point where she may be blinded by it and fail to look past her idea of what is right and just. She is a little arrogant at times, believing herself to be above others because of how she seeks truth and justice, but perhaps the destruction of the utopia that Dragonsea once was will bring her back to reality.

History: Ahrrahk was born in the Skylands and raised to be a monk at first, but she learned the way of the sword in her own time. Seeing her proficiency, the Royal Guard offered her the chance to join them instead, which she took up eagerly. She rose in the ranks quickly, earning the respect of many and leading the Royal Guard by the time she was three (young adult). When the Ancient Dragon died and chaos ensued, she valiantly led the Skylands into battle to fight off those who would try to invade. While she secured the Skylands, many people died in the war and the ensuing crash. Ahrrahk fled the Skylands during the crash, but the guilt of abandoning her home is catching up to her. She wants peace and justice once more, but something tells her that part of her motives include revenge.

Attack Type: Physical.

Weapons:
Silverlight - A magically imbued sword gifted to Ahrrahk at the time of her commissioning, when she became Captain of the Skyland Royal Guards.
Bladed Wings - Ahrrahk has no organic wings, but wears a pair of metal ones that are powerful enough to cut a person's arm off if she swings hard enough.
Twin Daggers - Ahrrahk has two secret daggers hidden on her at all times, should she be disarmed of Silverlight.

code by Ri.a

 

[The Fabulous Emerald]

Spoiler: Appearance

Name: Calesvol the Purifier.
Age: Unknown - even to himself.
Gender: Sword. But, he uses male pronouns.
Race/Species: Sword. Specifically, he is a sword that has gained sentience over time and has used magical power to grant himself a body of stone and metal.

Class: Paladin.
Racial (if you class 'Sword' as a race) Abilities: Being a magical sword, Calesvol does not need eyes to see nor a mouth to speak. He can sense the world around him granting him the ability to see both the visible and the invisible. One cannot simply hide from him. He can 'see' behind him, making it incredibly difficult to sneak up on him. He uses telepathy to speak, allowing him to be able to have silent conversations with people if he wishes. Finally, he can sense evil - true, pure blooded evil - near him even if they try to hide it. What he does with this information is down to him. He cannot be effected by curses, poisons or negative effects - although, he also cannot be healed or buffed from magic.
Magical Abilities: His main magical prowess comes from the radiant energy he is comprised of. Not only can he exert this energy in the form of holy light attacks that can really hurt undead and the living alike, though more effective towards the undead, he can also use this to heal others around him. His most powerful healing spell is a group healing spell that can knit together wounds and broken bones, though this takes up quite a bit of energy on his part.
Weapons:-
- Flail: An unnamed, boring flail. While he can channel his holy energy into it to make it more effective against undead, the flail itself does nothing.
- Himself: When push really comes to shove, he can unsheathe himself to use to fight. When like this, his magical spells become half as effective but his melee sword hits disintegrate most undead, ghosts and other necromantic creatures instantly and deals more damage against those with a pure evil heart. However, he is the most vulnerable in this 'form' - without his rocky armour surrounding him, he could be snapped in half. This does not kill him, though he will be classified as dead until he is fixed by a blacksmith of incredible skill. When broken, his magic also fades away meaning that he turns into a bog standard sword.

Personality: Calesvol is very wise, on the surface. He sometimes speaks in riddles or references parts of stories from years long past, but for the most part he only does that for fun. When needed, he will speak clearly. Or when he can't be bothered. He is quite passive about most things, often forgiving people for little mistakes instantly - never one to hold a grudge - and is more than happy risking himself for others. However, he is still a sword. He craves battle - specifically, battle with evil. Undead, villains, tyrants...he desires all to fall before his blade. It was what he was designed to do.
History: Long ago, a story - no, a legend even - formed about a wise and kind king who vanquished evil wielding a divine sword blessed with holy power. Everyone knows the story - countless different iterations of it, yet they all have one thing in common. The king pulled the sword from the stone. This, unfortunately, was the untrue part of the story. Like all legends, the truth tends to be embellished or exaggerated if it wouldn't make a good story with a happy ending. In reality, though, the king did not pull the sword from the stone. The king did not even get to see the sword, as the king had failed one of the vital tests to deem his worthiness. So, the sword remained in the stone awaiting someone to pull him free.

Though, as time passed, he realised that he did not need someone to wield him. He was no mere sword. He was Caelsvol the Purifier, granted the power and wisdom to destroy any evil in his way. He could not be stopped by something so trivial as not having a body. So, as he sensed chaos spread throughout the world, he exerted his power into the very rock he was cast into and formed it into the body that would carry him to his battles.

Over time, he refined his body - adding metal parts, making it smoother (even getting a sweet cape) - but his essence is all still there.

 

[reinadeespadas]

Name: Reya
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Race/Species: Human
Class: Fire Mage

Appearance:

Spoiler: Picture

A lithe woman, standing at 5'7." She has brown hair, light grey eyes. She always wears her long brown hair in a braid. Her attire allows for quick movement. Around her hips, she keeps several belts with stashes for herbs, daggers and potions.

Personality:
Not known to be the joking type to suffer fools, she possesses a serious personality with a thirst for knowledge. She is initially aloof and cold, considering only a few people as close friends, but this has less to do with introversion v. extroversion and more to help her keep emotions in check while she fights. However, she is fiercely loyal to a fault and quite caring once someone gains her trust. She is cunning, intelligent and determined, quickly finding a means to an end for what she hopes is the greater good.

History:
Reya was born into poverty. However, from a young age, she showed a talent for fire magic and a kind old mage took her in as his apprentice. At 8 years old, her home village was destroyed, leaving Reya without her parents and siblings though she didn't find out immediately as she was hundreds of miles away. By 11, her master succumbed to old age, leaving Reya to her studies and completely alone in the world. This didn't bother her too much however as her studies had long assured her that this day would come. As time went on, she became restless with the walls of her old master's home, wondering what lay beyond the cold stone walls that housed her all the those years. She began to travel the world at 16, leaving her books behind, looking to master her magic abilities, while seeking a way to ensure that her and other mages' art didn't become lost.

Attack Type: (Magical/Physical)
Reya foremost attacks with ranged fire attacks. She is able to launch fire attacks using her staff and can manipulate the fire into different forms using her hands such as arrows, phoenixes, and blades. However, fire is unpredictable and unless Reya is able to keep a reign on her emotions, it is possible that it isn't just the enemy that gets burned.

Reya is not a heavy hitter. She is quick and dexterous, but lacks the physical strength of a melee fighter so her physical attacks are done with her staff to maintain a safer distance between her and her opponent.

Weapons:
A oak bark staff with a blade fused to the top.
Several daggers with poison for the times she is forced to fight close range.

 

[OverconfidentMagi]

You may already know the tale I'm about to tell, it has been spread far and wide, but please allow this old storyteller to tell it once more...

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived with her mother in a village near the forest. The girl wished to go visit her grandmother, as she and her mother had done so many times previously, but they hadn't gone in quite a while. The girl's mother always told her, "Not today, dear." Never today. Until one day, the girl simply didn't ask. She decided to make the trip to visit her grandmother on her own. She knew the way, and she was old enough to make the trip by herself. She was a big girl after all.

"Why had the mother not simply taken the girl to go visit dearest grandmother?" you may ask. Oh well, that is quite simple. You see, dearest grandmother was dead. Unlike her daughter and grandchild, the grandmother was a stubborn old coot. She'd refused to leave the home she'd lived in all her life to move into the safety of the village, forcing her family members to make the dangerous trip through the forest if they wanted to visit her. The woman's own choices are what led to her dying alone in her cottage in the woods, eaten by a hungry wolf.

But back to the little girl, whose mother had neglected to tell her anything. Perhaps that was in some form the very same stubbornness that had led to the grandmother's unfortunate and avoidable death, hmm? The girl had been true about knowing the way, even when the path grew thin. But this was when she encountered the wolf. Yes, the very same. Oh the girl was scared, terrified of this beast. She could feel its hunger.

Such a kind and sweet girl, even though she had wet herself with fear, she offered the wolf the food she'd brought with her: red berry muffins her mother had baked yestermorn. After smelling the offering, but not partaking, the wolf left back into the forest. The girl ran all of the rest of the way to grandmother's house, but of course grandmother was nowhere to be found - the bits of her body that the wolf had not eaten had since been buried out behind the cottage - and the little girl didn't recognize the stains of blood for what they were. So she sat and waited for her grandmother to return, while she waited eating the food she'd brought with her, but of course grandmother never did appear.

The day grew late and night fell. The wolf was about. It howled from far, and then from near. The girl grew pale as she heard it just outside the cottage, stifled a cry when it scratched at the front door, and when it came around the back, to the door that for some reason refused to close properly - likely something to do with the wolf having battered it down weeks previously in its desire to eat the girl's grandmother - this was when the girl could stay still no longer. She ran out the front and into the forest just as the wolf came through the back. Oh she ran fast, with haste's blessing flying over root and rock without ever once falling, but she was still a child, in the wolf's kingdom.

The wolf caught up to the girl easily, before she'd made it even half of the way back through the forest to her village. She fell from its weight, struggling, fighting, screaming. My god... the screams....Sorry, where was I? Oh right. It all amounted to nothing. The wolf's sharp teeth brought the little girl's life to a sl... sudden end, and with those same teeth it consumed her.

A hunter that had been spending the night in the woods - much better prepared to do so than a little girl, and though he had heard the wolf, it had not dared approach the hunter's fire - he had heard the screaming of the girl, and he rushed to reach her. Too late, too late. What he saw on that terrible midnight scene, under the light of the pale full moon, was a young girl, who by some humorous god's will hadn't so much as a drop of blood upon her doll-like face, her guts ripped open and gone, her clothes once white now colored red from her own blood. And beside her, the wolf with its teeth still dripping with her blood, stumbling as if a drunkard fool. The vicious beast had been poisoned by the red berries the girl had eaten. The hunter killed the wolf then and there, but about the girl he knew not what to do. He hardly dared touch her, let alone move her. Perhaps he thought that, since he'd avenged her by killing the wolf, the gods may undo its crime.

The gods did not grant the hunter his wish that night, but perhaps they did send the girl's mother down the forest path just then. Or more likely it was that she'd been searching about the village for the past hours upon not finding her daughter at home, rushing out to where the girl might have gone on her way to see her grandmother, despite well knowing the danger of entering the midnight forest. The hunter and the mother cried together over the little girl's death, finally burying her by her grandmother in the forest.

When they returned to the village, the only thing they carried with them, the thing that forestalled any and all questions from the village folk, was the little girl's riding cloak, once such a lovely white fur, now stained a deep red.


Well, that's the tale you all have likely heard many times before, more or less. But what if I told you that there was another tale, one that went unsaid by the bards, for it was one they did not know? Sit and listen, friends, for the rest of the tale of what became of that little girl.


When the wolf killed the girl and the hunter killed the wolf, and when the hunter wished to the gods, it all happened about the trunk of one very old oak tree deep within the forest. The gods? Perhaps. Perhaps not, but the tree and the night's stars and the moon all watched the tragedy that took place in the forest that night. When these forces next came together, the tree brought the girl from beneath the earth and the wolf from where it had been scavenged upon, and with the moon's help it gave the girl back her life, and with the night's stars it gave the wolf back his. But the tree did not have enough magic in its branches or life in its roots to give both back their bodies, so it made a single body for the two souls to share together.

This new being possessed the wolf's desire and skill for the hunt, but it was tempered by the girl's innocence and curiosity. They would stalk any person who entered the forest, moving unseen and unheard, simply watching. If the person caused no harm and simply passed through the forest on their way to be elsewhere, they would leave unwise to having been watched for the duration of their stay. But if they were deemed disruptive, then the being would hunt. This was the way things were, and would have remained had the once-human half of this being not grown curious about its previous life.

The being left the forest for the first time since its creation and entered the village. It knew not what it was searching for, only that this place, and the path it had taken to get there, seemed familiar to it. The villagers were in awe of this otherworldly creature, though some claimed it somewhat resembled a female faun or satyr from the far lands. Despite not having spoken to a human before, the being was able to speak their tongue, albeit with many words it did not know. As the being freely spoke of the things it knew to the villagers in exchange for them sharing random pieces of information with it, they came to recognize this thing as the guardian spirit that had protected the forest for many years, giving it the name Artemis.

Artemis would come and go between the village and the forest often, continuing to protect the forest while also learning many things from the villagers in exchange for expanding the area it watched over to include the village as well. It was during one visit to the village that Artemis felt she recognized someone. She. Due to the villagers' views, Artemis had come to see herself as female, in addition to now having a name. This person she somehow recognized was a woman.

Artemis followed the woman all day, and when night fell she observed the woman's family. You see, after that young girl had been killed many years ago, her mother and the hunter had fallen in love, and they now had three children. Seeing them all together, Artemis felt things she hadn't in the forest. A warm feeling, a cold feeling, they were both moving all around inside her. When the family was all asleep, she searched the house. She was drawn to a locked trunk, which she broke open with an enchanted arrow. Inside she found her old cloak. As everything she'd forgotten about her past life came rushing back to her now, Artemis cried. It may be more accurate to say that the little girl who'd died that night in the forest cried. She cried for herself and her stupid death, for her mother and everything she'd gone through, for the life she'd missed since, and for the present where she could no longer be the daughter to her mother, that she'd been replaced by this new family.

The hunter, though he hadn't hunted in many years since the spirit had began to appear in the forest, was still a light sleeper from years of surviving alone. He alone woke from the sound to find the guardian in tears in his home, clutching the red cloak of a dead girl. The being wore a mask, many villagers simply believed it to be its face, but it had fallen off or been removed now, and the hunter gazed upon the face of the girl he'd buried in the forest years before. He tried to hug her then, but as much as the girl desired to be consoled, even more did the wolf fear the man whom had killed it. The being transformed into a river of darkness and streamed away out into the night. But now that the hunter knew of her, he returned to the forest in search of her, day after day, until the being finally showed itself.

Artemis and the hunter talked about many things over as many days and nights. In her company, the hunter was safe in the forest. Little of what they spoke is truly relevant to the story. It was simply a man getting to know the daughter he'd lost out on knowing for the past years. But when he asked her to come and live with him and her mother in the village, to continue that life of the girl whom had died, Artemis shook her head. Oh she wanted to, he could see the sorrow in her eyes as she said no. There was something he didn't know, is what she told the hunter. When she'd been brought back to life, it was as both parts of the hunt. Just as she was the victim, so too was she the killer. The moonlight that formed her body became dark as the night sky, and the girl was replaced by the wolf.

The hunter's reaction to seeing the beast that had haunted his nightmares all these past years, was of course to recoil in fear. He raised his weapon at the wolf, only find the girl disappearing behind the trees, her only glance back so filled with sadness that the man fell to his knees. He called out for her and chased her, but he never saw her again. The guardian spirit never again visited the village, and shortly after left the forest that had given it life again. Artemis was encountered, albeit rarely, in other nearby towns, gone long before the hunter was able to reach her. He simply wanted to tell her that he was sorry, and that her mother continued to love her until the day she passed. I'd like to think that Artemis heard the hunter's words, but I cannot say for certain. All I can say is that the spirit named Artemis is still about, somewhere in the world. As the years passed, she wandered away from that village to explore more of the world. I don't know where she may be now. Perhaps she's vanished back into moonlight, or perhaps she's managed to find companions and find a place she belongs somewhere far from here, or maybe she's moving unseen and unheard through the streets and across the midnight rooftops of this very town. I cannot say. ... If you do happen to cross her path, do not show fear, and do not run, for that is how you enter her hunt. Simply give her a smile, and tell her that the hunter says he is still so sorry... and that her mother was buried holding her old cloak. That she never stopped loving her daughter.

... That is all the tale I have to share tonight. A tale of foolishness and tragedy, old magics and strange spirits. If I'm still in town come tomorrow, I might have another tale to tell. We'll see, we'll see. Barkeep, a meal if you'd be so kind!

Name: Artemis
Age: 11 + 30
Gender: Female
Race/Species: Faun / Nature Spirit
Class: Ranger

Appearance:

Personality: When approaching Artemis, it is important to hear, listen, and watch them, never trusting any one side of them to contain the whole truth. They would speak kind and loving words, in a voice so uncaring and cold, all while ending lives. As it is, far too many people have mistaken the being's false sympathy for true empathy, something it is wholly incapable of. It is a blessing that Artemis gives off such an unnatural air, keeping many more people from making the mistake of thinking themselves capable of understanding the being's thoughts and desires. The one thing to keep in mind about Artemis is that, like most spirits, they are self-serving. They only care about their own needs and whims. In fact, the only reason Artemis is even working with The Wolves is due to their belief that the disappearance of magic would mean their own disappearance as well, and Artemis does not wish to experience death for a third time.

Attack Type: Physical

Weapons: Artemis Bow - A magical bow that fires arrows of cold blue light. It is completely silent, from draw to arrow impact.
Teeth & Claws - The wolf is just as dangerous after death as it was in life.

 

[marshmarrow]

FAYTHE LEANDER
Silvestri Rogue

FULL NAME
Faythe Leander

ALIASES
Faythe the Swiftcutter

GENDER
Female

AGE
21 years old

RACE
Silvestri - humanoid with feline qualities

CLASS
Rogue

WEAPONS & ARMOR
Faythe has mastered an assortment of blades, but she favors the misericorde above all else. Although she uses it outside of its intended purpose, it is perfect for her fast, quick style to quickly deal multiple serious wounds, or a death blow. Faythe is adverse to using her teeth and nails to fight, finding them more suited to practical purposes than combat.

SKILLS & ABILITIES
STEALTH: Because of her lithe body, Faythe can work her way through the smallest of corridors and crawlspaces with ease.

BALANCE: Cats always land on their feet, and Faythe is no exception. Despite her natural lack of a tail, she has a heightened sense of equilibrium and a rotating spine, allowing her to twist before she falls.

FLEXIBILITY: She is agile and outmaneuvers her opponents before they can strike. She has rarely lost her footing in a fight. She never lingers in one position for too long, her body constantly in motion to dodge and parry oncoming attacks.

NIGHT VISION: She can see easily in the dark. As her eyes dilute, the absorbed light is reflected back. She can detect movements in the dark quicker than other races can, although her night vision lacks color.

SPELLS & MAGIC
Silvestri aren't known for their magical abilities, but Faythe has taught herself a few spells to get by, and she's keen to learn more.

SHIFT: Faythe, like all Silvestri, can change from her human to feline form at will. However, this is physically exhausting, and difficult to do without her full concentration. It can be painful when changing forms rapidly without rest. She has little use for this in urban areas, preferring to use her alternate form for scouting and hunting.

SMOKESCREEN: Unleashes dense fog within a 30-foot radius. Faythe uses this for surprise attacks or a quick getaway in a pinch. It is harmless and a very basic spell to cast.

HEAL: Casting this over a wound allows it to mend quickly. It is the best for surface wounds, having little effect on serious injury, disease, or infections. It is a simple spell, but one Faythe finds herself using the most.

APPEARANCE
Faythe is relatively average among Silvestri, but she stands out against pallid human faces. Her hair is a mass of honey-gold, as thick and unruly as a horse's mane, which she wrestles into a braid at the base of her skull. Her skin is a study of tan and caramel, her neck, shoulders and spine dusted with faint jaguar's rosettes and her ears are pointed in the same fashion as an elf's. Her teeth and nails are long and sharp, similar to fangs and claws. Her eyes are a marble green in color, veined with yellow. Compared to humans, however, she is rather petite, standing at a modest 60 inches (5 feet) and lacking in upper body strength. Don't let her diminutive size deceive you, because her abs, neck, and back are taut with muscle, evidence of her cat-like grace. She wears dark, form-fitting clothing, her only armor gauntlets, pauldrons, greaves, and a breastplate. She claims that anything more will be a hindrance to her movement.

PERSONALITY
Faythe is an ambitious spirit with a strong sense of what is right and wrong, and she is always right. She trusts her instincts over the opinions of others, but will often second-guess herself once her decisions go awry. She isn't easily intimidated, especially not by the likes of humans, and often sparks fear into others by her self-assured attitude and aloof nature. She is surprisingly high-strung, holding grudges for longer than necessary. Her moods quickly flip from relaxed to suspicious, but her awareness of her surroundings makes her very intuitive. Like all cats, she is less nonchalant than she thinks she is, but there are times no one can ever know what goes on in her head.

Faythe is fiercely independent, so she sometimes has difficulty working in large groups. She takes a more active role, used to being listened to and followed. She's not an aggressor, but she has difficulty handling conflict once a situation starts to escalate. However, she is keen to notice when someone else needs assistance, which allows a more compassionate side of her to show. She may come off as arrogant or crass, but she is far more intelligent than she lets on.

HISTORY
Born the single child of an aging Silvestri patriarch, Faythe was promptly thought to be the perfect sacrifice to resurrect the Dragon after the kingdom fell. Cast out onto a mountain peak and left to die, she was hoped to bring a stop to the ill fortune that plagued the pride her father ruled. She did not die, rather, the daughter was found by another. The woman named her, and raised her, and taught her the secrets of old.

She learned to pay homage to the skies and winds and sea, the mountains and the forests. She learned to use plants to heal and to harm, to read the skies and glimpse the future. To observe and to manipulate, to fight and survive. Together, the woman and the girl became family, and when the girl learned all that she could from the woman, they parted, and Faythe moved north.

 

[EchoShiva]

Name: Yagi

Age: Unknown (Appearance wise late 20's)

Gender: Male

Race/Species: Aeon; a being of divinity and age. Aeon's are a very old, almost completely deceased race of beings who were thought of as knights or protectors. Though almost completely human in appearance Aeon's live far longer and have much more power than a typical human. Normal human beings of no power consider them guardians, and highly reverie Aeon's for the protection they bring.

Class: Mainly Unknown, Aeons carry spiritual power that is both from themselves and those around them that offer their own.

Spiritual Abilities Include :

Protective Barrier - Consuming a standard amount of energy and power, Yagi can create a barrier (small or large) that is practically almost invisible besides a faint iridescent shimmer. It is not full proof, but it sustains relative safety within the small village he protects.

??? (golden sword) - Yagi carries around a sword bathed in complete gold (sheathe and all). It has very faint symbols on it, language of old from his kind. The sword itself can be bathed in a golden light if Yagi opens his own divine power. Not only does the sword gain power but Yagi himself also shimmers in golden light. Results of these happenings are unknown. Using this uses a great deal of power and energy, and thus he has not used it in a great deal of years.

Natural Abilities :

As a being of divinity, Yagi has been granted a deal of raw power more than that of an average person. His skill with hands and sword match that of 5 men. What he lacks in speed and agility he makes up for in brute force.

Appearance:

A rather muscular, tall man (standing at about 6'4") who wears long gold and black light armor. His hair reaches down to mid back and is a golden brown, with eyes shining of pure gold and a symbol of the sun on his forehead.


Personality: Yagi is a man of purity and justice. He protects his people and guards them with his life. An honest man with an expressionless face whose eyes always seem to be somewhere far away. Mostly calm and subdued, he speaks from his heart and his words always have meaning to them, he doesn't take a part in idle chat. Many years have led him to be weary of outsiders, and even more suspicious of others with power. A true man of his word, though faintly mysterious in his own way....he always carries a faint smile on his face.

History: Yagi has lived a very long time...he is of course a divine being of age.

Born off of what people say a drop from the sun, Yagi was born into the world of no mother or father. Rather, a bright, blinding light, and a boy, who looked to be 15 or so, came from the light and into the world. He was raised by another Aeon, Alcaeus, for hundreds of years, so long in fact that Yagi had lost track. Dozens of their kind lived in a village called Antheon, and Yagi spent all those years peacefully in that village. It wasn't until more than 300 years passed after Yagi found life that others became so curious of Aeon's that it became aggressive.

Aeon's were sought out for their power by those near and far. Many were tortured and killed to find just one of species. Though Aeon's were kind and protectors, the malice of those who came for them pushed the species into war. But there was no where to run. And they were heavily outnumbered.

There are now only around 70 Aeon's left. All others were hunted to the ends of the world in hopes of turning them into slaves, killing them for their bones (thought of having power in rituals), or turning them into war machines.

Many years have passed since that time, and in all that time Alcaeus had sacrificed his life to save Yagi, Yagi had to grow up quickly, and he had to face the wrath of the world on his own. He grew, in mind and body. His power became overwhelming, and his mind in search for revenge. A great king in that time became Yagi's source for revenge. The great king was the great grandson of the man who had killed Yagi's master (Alcaeus). With spite and hatred, Yagi made his way up in the world until, eventually, his sword became drenched in the great king's blood. The death of that king is well known even so many years later and it is told by all as,"The man who bore the sun that defied all king of kings."

After killing the king, Yagi fell back into the shadows, eventually reappearing into the village he had called home. Antheon had changed a great deal, but those he once protected still knew who he was, and that is where he stays. Hiding in this small village in the foresty mountains, keeping in enclosed by the barrier he can make.

Attack Type: Physical

Weapons: A large golden sword, too heavy for an average person to hold or carry. A strong man would have to hold it as a two handed sword. This is a legacy sword, passed down through his species, he is the last one to call the sword his own.