Young Writers Society

I know, Wolf. I know.

Once Bish and Kelcia post their profiles, we can probably start. I have an idea for the first post, so don't go nuts over what to post. It'll be up when I see the two profiles mentioned above.

^_^ k

Also, anymore OOC (Out Of Character) posts to the DT please. Link to the DT is in the main SB post.

I've heard you could use another person around here, mind if I cut in?

Name: Zarin Lysanae
Age: 51
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Emperor
Alligence: Lyansa

Appearance: Zarin has seen better years. He is an old man now and much more frail than he would like. His days of fighting great battles are done. His days of bravely protecting his people are over. He couldn't even save his wife who had been destined to outlive him. He watched the girl elf he fell in love with waste away and now his own body is doing the same. He has dark brown hair which falls to his shoulders but he's starting to go bald at the front and his brown eyes have sunk heavily into his head. His once formidable body is not as well built or as broad as it used to be but in armour he does still pack a punch. He tends to wear his ceremonial robes most of the time of course but he's just waiting for news of the final battle and then he'll saddle up and gladly fight to the death.

Picture:

Personality: Zarin is a soldier at heart. He's seen too many hard times, too many years altogether to be the quiet and well mannered prince he was so long ago. He's still quiet, true enough and listens more than he speaks. But polite is not a word to describe him. Zarin is hard and stern. He is never rude or childish but is professionally tough and firm. He does not let anyone speak for longer than their turn and has no patience these days, not even for his children. He feels that there is danger lurking around the corner and always something to do, always a last battle to prepare for.

In truth the councilors are to be thanked for the warm welcome the city issues to its citizens and the city's revival. Zarin is not accustomed to times of peace and has not been able to adapt. But when the reports of the dragons start coming in he is the perfect emperor to have on the throne. He has seen war and he has seen impossible odds and he is not afraid to die fighting. He will lead his men out against these beasts and he will give everything he has.

Flaws: He is old and he is broken. Zarin is not at his full strength and it is doubtful that he will ever regain his prime.

Power/s: None.

History: Zarin was a great prince in his time. While his father ruled the kingdom, Zarin was left free to go out and achieve his honour. He fought his father's enemies with great valour and he travelled far into unknown lands. The kingdom loved him for he was brave and kind and strong. The only worry was that he refused to take a wife. Zarin found too much excitement in the world and hoped that he would never have to wed. In fact he hoped that he would never have to rule for he knew that he'd been made to be a soldier and a hero, not an emperor. He was the second son to his father which was why so much freedom was granted to him so while his brother took a wife and prepared to be heir, Zarin got to live out his adventures.

He was twenty-four when he found his wife. Zarin had never seen a creature so beautiful or so wonderful. He had also never met a woman so infuriatingly wise. She was pale with blue-grey eyes and light hair. Zarin was enchanted. He was bringing her back to introduce to the kingdom but the kingdom had bad news for him. His father and brother were dead along with his brother's wife and their young children. Zarin was enraged. He spent the next several years avenging their deaths and had little time for his new wife other than to get her pregnant with his son. That was the only child she was to have for some time for after that he set off on a five year campaign to hunt out the murderers. And this he accomplished. When he returned to his kingdom, there were some short years of peace. In his absence his Lady wife had restored the kingdom to a beautiful land and soon they were blessed with a daughter as fair as their kingdom.

Since then there have been years of peace and war interchangeably, ending with the most recent death of his wife. Is it any wonder that Zarin does not believe the peace is here to last? He has not been the best father to his children but he has tried to prepare them for the land they will inherit and he does care for them in his own way. His daughter troubles him somewhat as he can't be in her presence without being reminded of his late wife - her blue eyes and wilful nature bring back a lot of memories.

Up for love: No, probably not.

Other: It's debateable whether the emperor will survive. I suppose that depends on how good his guards are at protecting him/ keeping him from the field of war.

*I'm would like to have a dragon profile. But if I can't have the slot just tell me and I'll delete the post.*

Name: Pyris

Age: 53 (Since Dragons age incredibly slowly they are considered Hatchling until age 50, Pyris is a Wingling.)

Gender: Male

Race: Dragon, Duh

Alligence: Currently unbonded but will give his allegiance to his partner. Who will probably be Ravel although I'm not sure.

Appearance: (description and picture) A red dragon with several horns, finned spikes running along his spine and blue eyes. Pyris' scales vary in shade from rich ruby to deep garnet. His scales are incredibly vibrant and shine with their own inner light. "A red that flames can only envy." So to speak. As a young dragon he is still fairly small. Large enough to ride but not much bigger.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/red% ... n.jpg?o=65

Personality: Hot headed and reckless. With a fiery temper to match the color of his scales. Fierce, proud, wild and free. Adventurous with a terrible case of wanderlust Pyris left the dragon homeland when he was barely more then a baby. As the last of his kind Pyris finds himself curious about the little two leggers. Pyris is also brave, with courage the size of the mountains.

He thinks with his heart and rarely pauses to think things through or consider the consequences of his actions. (More will be revealed with time)

Flaws: Since he pretty much raised himself Pyris has no concept of the dragon society. And will often pick fights with older and larger dragons.

Power/s: Pyris is a rare Fire dragon, born of the Primordial essence of fire. His entire being, and therefore his magic, is bound up in the element. He can breathe and control fire to a far greater degree then other dragons. Pyris can also breathe lightning, which he calls 'cold-fire'. This ability comes with a trade off as Pyris finds it difficult to use other dragon magic.

History: Pyris was the youngest of a nest of four. The smallest and the weakest he was most definetly the runt of the clutch. His mother was one of the first dragons taken by madness and she killed her children.

Because of his smaller size Pyris was able to hide where his mother couldn't find him. She was the last of the Fire Drakes and when she came to and realized what she had done his mother killed herself. So Pyris is the last of his kind. He was on his own from that point and learned to survive quickly. Those early years were rough and when he was ten or so Pyris found himself on the human's continent.

The evershifting tides of the human and elven world fascinated Pyris. Far more then the quieter life among beasts that were largely immortal. Pyris was never bored here. Over the years he's wandered all over the continent and eventually he made his way north to Lyall.

Pyris witnessed the conflict between Melnar and Lyansa and found himself interested in the people who were at the center of the battle.

Up for love: Well, in dragon years he's the equivalent of a 14/15 year old. So, no.

Other: Pyris has the old dragon tendency to hoard treasure and yes I know it's cliched. But he's always been attracted to shiny things. Despite his small size Pyris is a fierce fighter who never backs down from a challenge.

Ugh... Fine I'll take the hint and choose Captain of the Guard.

Name: George Stobbart
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Captain of the Guard
Alligence: To his Emperor!

Appearance: Always seems to be wearing armour and bears the coat of arms both on his chest and shield, his sword is red and changes colour when a dragon is nearby. His helmet conceals his face, to this day no-one has seen what is behind that helmet ever since the witch cursed his wife's grave.

Personality: Old, wise and usually has a bad temper. Never removes his armour due to the fact that he believes he could be attacked by anyone at any given time. Has trust issues, even with the emperor. Tends to stick to reading books in the library and only going into battle when needed. His wife died a year ago and ever since then he mourns her grave every chance he gets. Dislikes incompetence, hates loitering and above all else hates Dragons!

Despite his old age, he can still swing a sword as if he was 30... but sometimes he has to rest, as long battles exhaust him easily. He tends to hate people that try and poke fun of any given situation, he is strict and does what the emperor commands.

Flaws: Isn't really that adaptable in combat, if he has to do something he isn't used to it usually ends up in him causing an injury to himself. His eyesight isn't exactly the best since he never removes his helmet. Tends to wander off if he sees a chance to visit his wife. If his helmet is removed he is vulnerable to other people's personalities... which could lead him to do things that he would not normally do.

Power/s: The ability to look into one's past, he usually uses this to gain knowledge about the enemy and sort out quarrels and disputes. The insight to what has happened allows him to make decisions more easily and to learn more about that person... anything which is of any use to the emperor is reported to him directly whether it be via messenger or upfront.

History: First worked as a stable boy, keeping the horses fed and the stables clean and tidy, until one day he was to stop thieves from stealing them which lead him getting a job as a castle guard... from there it progressed. His parents were proud of him and still are to this day, they live in a cottage in the countryside.

He first met his wife in a sword-fight between guards, crossing blades they looked into each other's eyes and stood still. The guards were angry with what was happening after that... "You're not allowed to snog on duty!","Oh George... what big muscles you have!","Maybe when you're finished kissing you can actually go on patrol for a change!"

Eventually, this lead to his wife dropping out of guard duty and getting married a month later, they never had kids. When she died from disease, his personality warped. An old woman walked past her grave one day and cursed the grave with powers reminding him of his past with her, no-one really knows why she did it. But it turned out the curse not only gave him memories of his own past but the past of others when they came into contact with him... he tends to keep his helmet on in order to stop so many thoughts entering his head - it can lead him into insanity sometimes.

Up for love: No, he wouldn't forgive himself for abandoning his wife.

Other: Has no time for dealing with children.

Celosia | Rooftops - North of the Palace:

I crouched down low on the rooftop, trying not to break anything while doing so. It was bad that the rooftop wasn't white, but then again, I wasn't exactly trying to hide. I watched the northern wing of the palace, the windows in the great hall behind the throne room. The Emperor was there, as were two people with blue hair and several guards. Including what appeared to be a general. How I knew this? I'm a dragon. Dragons hear things from a long distance away.

But I wasn't that far away. Just across the courtyard from those windows. Ah, the Emperor was speaking.... Wait, what was he saying? Jarelle is gone? Since when? I narrowed my gaze, body curling in tight as if I was about to spring. Missing. The God of Healer was missing. It should have been impossible. But it wasn't.

How do I know Jarelle, you ask? I'm a dragon. Dragons are watched over by Jarelle, among other deities. Now. That was interesting... Us dragons tended to look after anyone we liked--especially the immortals. So, if Jarelle was missing....it would surely attract the attention of others. And I wasn't sure if I wanted any other dragons, driven insane or not, near Lyall. I had kind of...adopted the place as Mine. And I would defend it, too.

I blinked. The Emperor was speaking again, but I couldn't make out the words, and while I was staring at the faint, slightly blurred image of him, a figure closer to the window--one of the blue-haired people--turned to look outside. And saw me. She stared at me in shock for a moment, before screaming, "Dragon!" and retreating fairly quickly to deeper inside the great hall. I hesitated for a moment, waiting for the drama to unfold....but it didn't happen. There were no guards, no yelling. And no sound of metal on metal.

At least, not yet.


Sanura |Great Hall - Northern Wing of the Palace:

The Emperor was speaking, but I wasn't paying attention. Besides, his words were boring me, and since when did I ever listen to the Emperor much in the first place? It had been a year since they found me in the cells, but I still couldn't forgive people. I'd remembered a lot about my past since then. Things I didn't really want to remember. I put a hand to my head, frowning. These memories... They hurt.

"Sanura?" someone asked--Niton, perhaps? Or was it General Altair? I couldn't tell. The voice was warped. Perhaps I was suffering more than I thought? A hand touched my shoulder, but I shrugged it off, stumbling over to the window while trying not to look like I was. I grabbed the ledge and held on. Over the past year, I'd been starting to remember things...about the bandits and my men, and my life...before, but it didn't matter. I was happy now, here in Lyall. Why did I have to remember in the first place?

"I'm fine," I said and looked up, my gaze drifting across the courtyard to the rooftops. Something large and white crouched there. It seemed to be watching the palace. I stared at it for a long time--It took me more than a moment to realise what it was, but when I did. "Dragon!" I screamed, backing away from the window.

"What?" That was General Altair. He rushed forwards and then stopped, staring out the window. He didn't make a move to call for the guards. He just stood there. It seemed he was... almost confused?

Someone took my arm and tugged my hand away from my head. "Sanura? Are you alright?" someone asked, shaking me. "Sanura?"

Zaairen

Make that “dragons,” Zaair thought with an inward chuckled. The two healers hadn’t spotted him, crouched as he was behind the throne-room windows. So curious that two-legs didn’t prefer to hold court in the open air- the sensible way.

A guard suddenly froze, staring directly at Zaair. He mentally cursed as he gained his feet. Now there was sure to be a panic!He unfurled his wings, backing away to gain clearance. The guard was gesturing wildly for his fellows to take action.

Up and away!

General Altair Jinan|Great Hall - Northern Wing of the Palace:

The Emperor had gone silent when Sanura moved away. Everyone seemed to be ignoring her cry of 'dragon!' right now. Altair took hold of her arm, tugging her hand away from the girl's head. "Sanura? Are you alright?" he asked, shaking her. "Sanura?" He frowned when the girl didn't respond. He glanced towards Niton but the Royal Healer just shook his head.

Just then a movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. A guard was gesturing wildly to a different window. When Altair turned to see what he was on about, he spotted the other dragon. Uh oh. "Dragons," he corrected loudly. "Guards!"

Moments later, the healer in his arms fainted.

George noticed his sword was vibrating as the sword changed colour to purple. His thoughts attempted to focus on any wildlife nearby - but all he could focus on were the birds outside... he signalled to one of the guards patrolling the corridors that something was wrong.

An archer peered out of a nearby window and to his amazement, he saw a dragon peering into his eyes. "D-d-d-d-d-d-d-" the archer struggled to pronounce his words properly as his petrified face looked in stunned silence. "What is going on over there?" George shouted as the sound of flames and screaming filled the corridor.

Violet | The Courtyard

"Guards!"

I was pulled out of my daydream as suddenly as I had entered it, snapping to attention before anybody could notice my slacking off.

Then I saw the dragons.

Had I really snapped out of my daydream? Or was I still imagining?

Nevertheless, it paid to go long with your daydreams, and within minutes my bow was off my back and an arrow was notched.

The white dragon was stationary, and at present seemed to pose no threat. The black, however, was lifting into the air. To leave or to destroy? The chance couldn't be taken.

My fingers curled a millimeter tighter around the bowstring, then released. The beast let out a scream of fury as my arrow pierced it's rear leg. Purely fury, it must be. The arrow was barely a fraction of the dragon's size! And besides, I had only been aiming to intimidate.
A little further away, I could hear screaming and see the glow of flames out of the corner of my eye. A surge of panic entered my heart, no matter how hard I tried to quell it. It was most likely this that caused my next shot to miss completely.

I cursed myself inwardly, and grabbed my next arrow. Fingers trembling, I took aim. I had come, foolishly, with a severely sort supply of arrows. If I missed this time, I'd be at the beast's mercy.

Chusi

Chusi panicked, squeezing through the hole in the outter palace wall. It wasn't a pleasant thing, being woken from a deep sleep in the garden by frenzy and screaming and other, much larger, dragons. She slid through the narrow space with ease, once again thankful that she was still young and small enough to hide between two sides of the same wall.

She had officially learned one thing, and that was that the people here were not very fond of their dragons. Now, either this meant that she could have fun causing all sorts of trouble, or it meant that she was going to be in more trouble herself than she knew what to do with. Trouble was only good to a certain extent- like when it wasn't threatening your life.

A loud, piercing shriek from somewhere outside and above made her cringe. Her pulse was getting quicker and quicker by the second, and that was definitely not a good thing. Panic had never solved anything for her, and she had told her self time and time again to face the world with teeth and claws, not scared eyes and a cower. Unfortunately, the latter was all she was really capable of just now.

She kept scampering, stepping over boards and pushing through cobwebs. This was beginning to feel far too clasterphobic... she needed another hole. Quickly.

She found one, a few feet away. One that led into the palace, and not out of it- thank goodness. Inside the palace seemed a lot more appealing right now. That and the fact that once she was inside, she could distract herself. Tricks and thefts always made her feel better. And, seeing as she was the size of the average palace cat, that was almost easier done that said.

She paused, sticking her head a fraction of an inch out of the hole. What she saw was a bedroom- plain, dusty, and quite possibly unused. Either unused or whoever slept here had failed to tidy up for a good, long time. She slipped into the small bedroom, almost smiling to herself at how much... safer, it felt. She could hardly hear the commotion that was going on outside now, and she was well out of harm's way for now. Hopefully.

Now she had two choices- continue calming down with a nice long nap on the bed and risk the room being owned, or find a way to open the door and look for another place to stay. The latter would be tricky- especially if the door was locked, and the former was risky. The last thing she needed right now was to end up like one of the dragons outside. Another loud shriek reminded her of that.

She turned to face the door, head down, determined. She truly felt sorry for anybody walking through that hall right now- a small dragon bursting through the door and making a run for it was something that she doubted these people were used to. She charged, trying to ignore the blast of pain in her head as it made contact with the wood. She heard a crack- hopefully the wood, and a blast of slightly cooler air. She was out. Out, and it felt like she was spinning. One eye opened, closing again to block out the tipping floor. Okay, so that may not have been the best idea ever.

Sorry for the late profile! >>>

Daniel | Guards Quarters

The alarm, brought by a gasping youth into the guard’s quarters, was, although enthusiastic, quite pointless. Daniel was the only one left in the room at that point, struggling with the caught strap in his chest plate.

“Its dragons!” wheezed the boy, looking both wonderstruck and terrified. “Real dragons, Danny!”

“No,” muttered Daniel, finally wrenching the chest plate into place. “It’s the blinking embossing on this thing that’s the problem.” He pushed past the boy and charged down the corridor, trying to catch up with his squad.

The halls were filling with people, everyone rushing about, trying to either escape the attack or aid in the reinforcements. Daniel had to push and shove to make his way through even the smallest area of hallway.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go; his squad was trained to be the fastest, most efficient; the best. But one buckle got stuck, and suddenly, Daniel found himself alone in a crowd of civilians. By the time he got to the fight, it’d be over.

He darted down a less crowded side hallway, took some turns, and, as he had planned, found himself of a less – traveled route to the West Wing of the palace.

Without warning, the door in front of him exploded outwards, wood splinters flying everywhere. Daniel yelled, feeling a large piece of shrapnel bounce comically off of his helmet. A moment later, he found himself pressed to the wall, covering the back of his head with his arms.

There was a pause as the last of the wood pattered into place. Daniel turned and saw, with some incredulity, a little brightly-colored thing wobbling around in the rubble. As he stared, the odd little creature fell over.

Carefully, very carefully, Daniel bent down. A little purple…. Well, surely it wasn’t a dragon, was it? It was so small, so sweet-looking. But, it clearly wasn’t a cat, or an overgrown lizard, either. Daniel poked it. It didn’t stir.

He knew he should kill it, he really did. But then again, how many times does one come across an unconscious dragon?

“Seems to me, little lizard,” muttered Daniel, scooping it up gingerly, as if it might explode, “that the rest of the squad can do without me for the time being.”

He draped a bed sheet from the recently de-door’ed room over the tiny creature, to conceal it from the civilians, and made his way to the empty store room in the south of the castle. He figured that it was a good a place as any to take the dragon, until things were sorted out.

He locked the door behind him, set the creature on the bed sheet, and waited.

Mark was wandering around in the forest, eyes peeled for any squirrels he could use for pelts. He heard a loud noise that sounded like a dragon cry... his eyes met with the castle and noticed that there were what looked like two dragons. He kept on hunting for the squirrels - not willing to risk his own life just to get eaten or worse.

He noticed movement in a nearby bush. Knife ready, he watched as a squirrel fell victim to his net trap... another pelt for the pile, another gold coin for the treasure chest.

Chusi

The pounding didn't stop- it refused. It brought back a few not-so-fond memories of beatings back at that human training camp. Something hard- typically whatever they had on hand- to the forehead, and then pain that pulsated through the entire day. But she was aware if the pain now, whereas she hadn't been only moments before. That's was a sure sign that she wasn't dead, wasn't it? And that was probably a good thing, seeing as she had made plans for later.

Or, possibly made plans, anyway.

She let out a moan, pulling both front legs over her snout. Perhaps death was preferable to this; it didn't feel like it was letting up anytime soon. Blast it. And what, pray tell, had she done to make it hurt this badly in the first place? She could remember sneaking into the room, but nothi- oh right, she had decided that it would be intelligent of her to break down the door with her head. Definitely not one if her brightest ideas.

Rustling to her side made her freeze. The knee knowledge that she wasn't alone was not welcome. Not welcome at all. In any other place, in a land of dragon-lovers and not killers, company Woolf be welcomed. The injury would be milked for all it was worth, and she would bask in the attention. Unfortunately, judging by what she had just witnessed outside, this was not one of those dragon-loving places. She lifted one leg, slowly resting it beside her, and then the other one. One eye opened, and the second one followed suit. Both went wide web they saw the man in front of them. He had a sword- and those things were definitely lethal to a dragon her size. Now she had two choices- act like a weakling and possibly earn his sympathy and compassion, or fight with an aching head and risk a sword piercing her heart. Then again, she was risking the sword bit either way, wasn't she?

A combination of the two plans would probably work best. Make him feel sorry for her, and then run as fast as possible in the other direction.

She pushed herself to her feet, not even having to fake the wobbling legs and collapsed again before letting go of a pathetic whimper. Okay, so part two of her plan may have to wait until she could actually move without falling over
again. She looked up at him with the most distressed expression she could muster, trying to get rid of the normally cynical expression. The man had to have a heart- she was just a baby dragon, after all.