Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84 
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Mar 19, 2016 1:18:37 GMT -8
The sheer cliff face sprouts from a flat forest ground. Three sharp peaks reach up into the air, supported by huge towers of granite and marble, giving off a sense of grandeur and giving the observer a sense of inferiority, like it is some sort of heavenly being, on a different plane then what we can perceive.
Drilled into the cliff face is a humongous hole, over 100 foot high. One can only presume it was bored through by a huge creature, which is evident by the rough sides of the hole.
Great stalagmites, reaching at least twenty to thirty feet down, with needle sharp points. A keen observer could see the fragility of their connection to the ceiling. One well placed explosion, or projectile could cause them to fall. The stalagmites are adorned by all variations of gems. Great sapphires and rubies all are encrusted into them.
Outside of the cave, lies a simple campsite. No campfire, but a single large branch, obtained from the forest, driven into the ground and the tip set on fire. The flat ground near the entrance to the cave makes it stand out amongst the other trees.
Crouched nearby, concealed in a bush, is Attla, waiting someone to show up for the quest.
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Adrian von Heschburg
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 209
Age: 34
Physical Description: A well-built man, standing at 6'0 and weighing 175 lbs. Adrian was a Vessian knight, and his upbringing molded him into a man befitting of his status. Constant activity in service to the Brotherhood has only enhanced his physique.
He has short, dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, and an overall handsome appearance. One might see a hint of innocence buried beneath regret and heartbreak.
Clothes and Equipment: Adrian wears either mail or plate armor, along with a white surcoat depicting a black cross. He also wears a cloak that covers his body when necessary. At times he may choose to wear a helmet.
His choice weapon is usually a longsword, used in conjunction with a heater shield. On horseback he adds a lance to his arsenal. Adrian may carry a Vessian hand crossbow and bolts if he feels it is appropriate.
Like most Brothers, his horse is always white.
Registered: Sept 20, 2015 4:33:51 GMT -8
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Post by Adrian von Heschburg on Mar 19, 2016 8:59:03 GMT -8
The clomping of Adrian's horse could be heard from a distance, and Attila probably heard his arrival while hiding in his bush. Like all members of the Brotherhood, Adrian rode atop a white steed. The warhorse was strong, conditioned, and well-groomed, but it could not be used in the cave, so Adrian dismounted and hitched the horse near a grassy spot under a tree. He would be okay for the time being.
Adrian carried his white heater shield, emblazoned with the Black Cross, a longsword, a bow, and a quiver of arrows. He wore a chainmail cuirass, covered with a white surcoat which also had a Black Cross. He also wore steel shin guards and gauntlets. His helmet was strapped to his side until he needed it.
The Knight closed his eyes and whispered an incantation: a prayer to the Most Holy. He could feel a protective aura surround his body, and he walked towards the entrance of the cave.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Mar 19, 2016 18:19:09 GMT -8
tap-tap-tap-tap
Attla moved towards the knight, planting his walking stick in the dirt every step he took.
He stopped when he was in plain sight, extended his staff in the air and bashed the bottom of the staff on the ground. It created a dull but audible noise, aiming to get the attention of the knight.
He stepped forwards and examined the knight, with a slight edge of frustration. A knight? He was expecting some thieves of some sort. It's going to make the dragon a hell of a bigger problem.
Knights are useless. All they do is stab things and take their money. They're basically fancily dressed up crooks.
He began to squander every feature of this knight, in great detail.
Attla noticed the black cross on the knights garments. Where could he have came from? Maybe some sort of knight order?
The armaments of this man will at least do some damage, Attla noted. The longsword? Possibly ineffectual to a dragon, but with enough skill, the knight could probably make it work. The shield? Completely useless; it won't be able to defend against any form of dragon attack.
The longbow was the only actual good choice the knight had made. The arrows will be able to at least pierce the armoured hide of the dragon and do some damage. Anyhow, the job wasn't to necessarily kill the dragon, but to take the treasure. Attla could leave the killing for the knight. It's the knight's job anyway.
The murmuring reached Attla's ears.
"You're not one of those 'Most Holy' crazy fundamentalists are you?"
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Adrian von Heschburg
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 209
Age: 34
Physical Description: A well-built man, standing at 6'0 and weighing 175 lbs. Adrian was a Vessian knight, and his upbringing molded him into a man befitting of his status. Constant activity in service to the Brotherhood has only enhanced his physique.
He has short, dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, and an overall handsome appearance. One might see a hint of innocence buried beneath regret and heartbreak.
Clothes and Equipment: Adrian wears either mail or plate armor, along with a white surcoat depicting a black cross. He also wears a cloak that covers his body when necessary. At times he may choose to wear a helmet.
His choice weapon is usually a longsword, used in conjunction with a heater shield. On horseback he adds a lance to his arsenal. Adrian may carry a Vessian hand crossbow and bolts if he feels it is appropriate.
Like most Brothers, his horse is always white.
Registered: Sept 20, 2015 4:33:51 GMT -8
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Post by Adrian von Heschburg on Mar 20, 2016 4:07:05 GMT -8
Adrian let the man observe him and made no movements to threaten anyone. "I am Komtur Adrian von Heschburg," Adrian began to tell Attila, "a commander of the Brotherhood. I am a follower of the Angelist faith, if that is what you're wondering. Our monks spread our faith and offer healing services all over the world, and they take in orphans as well. Us Knights, well, we're the military branch of the order. But we are not a military order, just noble Knights devoted to Angelist values. We take an oath to help the weak and defend the innocent." Adrian looked down at the ground, "though, truth be told, I'm not as devoted to Angelism as I once was. I don't need religious teachings to show me where my morality lies; I do what I do because I must, because it is right."
Adrian figured the man wondered why brought only a sword and shield. "As a Knight-Brother, I've been trained in restorative magic. I can cast holy wards that negate dark and fire-based magic; it should come in handy against the dragon, should he attack. I can heal my allies, and I can blast dark and fire-based opponents with my magic. These will all serve useful against the dragon. This is what the Brotherhood was founded for: to fight dark and hellish beasts."
Adrian drew out his sword and it glimmered in the light. The sword had a certain glow to it, like it had been blessed. "This will do far more than any other sword you have seen."
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Mar 21, 2016 18:06:36 GMT -8
Dimitri is stumbling through the woods, looking for the supposed quest area that he saw a notice for in town. He may not be a stealthy creature, but he was sure as the Afterworld that he was amongst the strongest in the lands. He knows his skill set and sticks to it, not hampering the abilities of others as unneeded or cowardly. Everyone lives by their own paths.
After stumbling through the underbrush for what felt like hours, he finally managed to stumble and trip over a root right into a clearing with a single stick which was barely lit aflame. Dimitri got up shakily and went towards the fire, sitting down to regain his bearings. It took him a minute to notice the two men off to the side talking to each other, so he decides to call out and find out if e was in the right place. "Excuse me sirs. Is this where that notice about a dragon slang job said to be?" He continued to relax by what was considered to be the fire while he waited for a response.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Mar 24, 2016 5:15:30 GMT -8
Attla nodded, listening to every aspect of what the man was saying. He zoned out during his description of the order however. He couldn't care less; they are just religious hermits anyhow, it's not like his pointless drivel about it will enlighten him in some way. Better train his brain to be efficacious and not be bogged down by useless tidbits.
He glanced at the man's weapon. Good. Better than he had thought, anyhow. The radiance of the blade was mesmerising. Shiny weapons are typically very dangerous. It'll help a lot.
He stepped towards the knight.
"Dark and hellish beasts?" he asked nonchalantly; he was curious but didn't want to lead on the fact that he summoned demonic creatures.
Better keep that hidden. Don't want to be shanked by the Paladin.
Attla could heard the newcomer coming.
He looked down to the camp-site and looked right into his helmet. A strange being in full plate. Unremarkable. Maybe he could pull his weight. At least I'll be able to sell his equipment if he dies. Might make a handsome sum,
He advanced to the foot of the cave, stood and surveyed the landscape. He drove his staff into the ground and began to speak.
"It's time to begin!"
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Mar 24, 2016 6:11:37 GMT -8
Dimitri gets up from his position, clanking with his movements. Stretching out his muscles once up, he chuckles slightly as he mulls over what is expected of him tonight. "What, only three of us? You aren't going to wait for any roguish entities to join us? And I just got comfortable too." The very large man chuckles a little more at his own antics before facepal;ming himself fo dragging his hand down the helmet that it connected with.
Now donning afar less jovial expression, he walked towards the apparent magic user."So, how do you want us to get up there?" Dimitri looks up towards the cave entrance, sighing slightly. "That is a fair climb."
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Adrian von Heschburg
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 209
Age: 34
Physical Description: A well-built man, standing at 6'0 and weighing 175 lbs. Adrian was a Vessian knight, and his upbringing molded him into a man befitting of his status. Constant activity in service to the Brotherhood has only enhanced his physique.
He has short, dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, and an overall handsome appearance. One might see a hint of innocence buried beneath regret and heartbreak.
Clothes and Equipment: Adrian wears either mail or plate armor, along with a white surcoat depicting a black cross. He also wears a cloak that covers his body when necessary. At times he may choose to wear a helmet.
His choice weapon is usually a longsword, used in conjunction with a heater shield. On horseback he adds a lance to his arsenal. Adrian may carry a Vessian hand crossbow and bolts if he feels it is appropriate.
Like most Brothers, his horse is always white.
Registered: Sept 20, 2015 4:33:51 GMT -8
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Post by Adrian von Heschburg on Mar 25, 2016 16:19:02 GMT -8
Adrian sheathed his sword and shrugged. "I'm ready whenever you guys are," he said.
Adrian looked up at the entrance like Dimitri. "Are you well enough to climb, sir?" Adrian wasn't sure if Attila was sickly or if he was just made that way. Nevertheless, he remained respectful about it. Adrian was a good soul, who only meant to do good things. He would never do or say anything to insult someone.
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 16, 2016 11:02:46 GMT -8
Dimitri could only look around the cave entrance, not liking the sensation he received from it, but, a job is a job, especially when one is low on coins. The shear size of the cave mouth was daunting, over 100 feet going straight up, another 100 feet between both sides. If this was made by a dragon, it could probably swallow all three of them whole. He would have to make sure he kept his voice low. "So, who is first into the big scary cave? The wizard, the knight looking fella, or me? Hmm, eeny meanie minie me." Dimitri walks right into the cave, leading the way with a few bone crunching sounds echoing from his armor before he enters too far into the darkened sphincter of the earth.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Apr 19, 2016 4:08:02 GMT -8
He spun around, eyeing the two warriors.
"Killing a dragon isn't your usual affair," he started with a commanding tone, strange coming out of such a frail creature. "You can't just stab a dragon to death, you see it doesn't work that way," he continued,
"Dragons have this very handy knack, of being able to heal back near damn anything; they have tenfold the regenerative capabilities of a simple human." He thought it would be better to succinctly lay out why each of these warriors couldn't kill it, without simply saying the fact that he was in fact going to use them as meat-shields; simply as a distraction so he could grab the gold and leg it. He was never going to split the gold anyway between the two, it would be wasting a valuable opportunity of monetary gain. He had to play the act of a frail wizard, in desperate need.
"Therefore, you keep the dragon busy. I will do the killing. You see, I am going to drop a nice, big stalactite on the lizard. Then voila! A lovely, crushed dragon. The gold shall be ours!"
He thought that this plan was indeed quite a good trick. He was sure the two others will not expect his eventual betrayal. If the plan is jeopardised however, by either of the two sods, he will be sure to dispatch of them quickly using his darts. He had three in his box, at the current time. If the second plan failed to work, he would escape using a smoke bomb. No flaws, perfect and seamless. After all, failing to plan if planning to fail. He was going to get that money.
"Oh, be my guest, knight, you can certainly go ahead," responded Attla to Dimitri's impulsiveness. God he really wanted him to die. The sweet look of desperation as the dragon crushes him will be simple wonderous!
He drove his mind back to the topic. Ignoring whatever the paladin had to say, he could not care for his silly sympathetic nature. He simply despised such idiocy. He obviously didn't care about Attla's wellbeing, falling for traps like that is a quick route to getting yourself killed.
"Let us finally begin!" He yelled, tapping his staff against the ground, murmuring 'Passwall' as he did so. The earth cracked open in a small fissure, accommodating his body, then closing in on him. He was now bonded with the earth. He shot through the cave, heading towards the dragon, the spell 'Passwall' allowing for this high velocity movement. All that you could see of him, small, rapidly-moving crack, heading towards the centre of the cave. He smirked as he moved in this earthly form, knowing he WOULD come out on top, he WOULD get the money.
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 19, 2016 6:03:04 GMT -8
Bloody wizards, making accusations when no such facts are stated. "A knight am I? Heh, you are not the first to falsely think that I am one of a noble order. No, no such order would accept my more 'tactless' approach." So, this really was a dragon's lair. This was going to be a very big dragon, larger than any he has encountered thus far, and no doubt it would be grumpy that they were trespassing.
As Attla streamed ahead in his little fissure, Dimitri could only ponder. 'This mission was all about stealth an getting the gold, so why would the wizard yell out like that, letting his voice reverberate down the cave? Did this man of magic have ulterior motives in this cave? Who was I kidding, he's a wizard, they always have ulterior motives.'
A few sniffs into the air lets Dimitri know that Attla has gone on ahead of him and should not be in range to hear any whispers. He pointed a finger at the Komtur, "We need to talk, privately. So keep your voice down." Dimitri began moving into the cave at a sedated pace, keeping his steps muffled, despite the armor. He was taking a risk in confiding his worries with the paladin, but if worse came to worse, he wanted an ally rather than another enemy. So, speaking quietly to the Komtur, "I do not like this wizard's plan. If we were to be in and out with some gold, why would he yell at the entrance before moving in? I ask that you be careful moving further in, and also ask that you have my back while we are in there."
His lycanthrope ears twitched in agitation within the full helm, only his deep red eyes showing through the slits. Dimitri could only hope that his non magical armor would hold so he didn't have to add another knightly order on his 'to avoid' list.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Apr 20, 2016 0:14:50 GMT -8
Attla accelerated forwards, focused on the maintaining of the spell. He moved his earthly body around the walls of the cave, allowing him to reach the ceiling of the cave. He could feel the dragon from where he is, the heavy, slow breaths, the heat, building up as he expelled air from his nostrils. This was accentuated by the fact he was underground. He could catch on vibrations, and therefore be able to sense things much easier. However, he was sure he could sense the dragon even if he wasn't underground. It was a bloody loud beast.
When underground, he did not have proper sight. He had to rely on echolocation; how long the noise generated by his movement takes to reflect off of a surface and back into his ears.
His movement stopped suddenly. He extended only his head out of the ground, transmogrifying it back from his earthly form. He did this, for at this point, the dragons exhalations had grown much louder than usual. In fact, he might have heard a growl. And a stomp. And a roar. An ear-piercing roar.
"Well,"
"Can't say I expected that."
Must have been the warriors that waked him, he concluded. He waved away the notion that passwall is incredibly loud. Because Attla never makes mistakes.
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 20, 2016 8:41:20 GMT -8
A sudden roar echoed from within the cave,loud enough that Dimitri's ears fell flat against his head to try and muffle some of the noise. Once the blood letting, intimidating blast of Draconian vocalization ceased, he turned once more to Komtur Adrian von Heschburg "Ok scratch whatever I just said. You need to get far away from this cave yesterday. Forget fighting this one and live to fight another day. I have a damn wizard to find." With his warning said, Dimitri dashed into the cave, letting his lycanthrope vision adjust to see within the darkness and readjusting his hybrid form from his strength build to an agility build. He will move far faster than previously and increase his acrobatic proficiency. This changing of forms let out more bone snaps as his body adjusted, and straining armor as it reformed itself to fit the new requirements.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Apr 20, 2016 9:03:05 GMT -8
Oh golly. A dragon. He phased himself into the ground again, and promptly decided to move away from the dragon, briskly. He was immediately aware of the lumbering lizard, and it's destructive capability. If he were not to move, the place where his head would be would be a pile of ash. Adrenalin pumped in, into his frail frame, his frail frame only managing to just cast the incantation, as he slipped back under the ground, and gave the dragon some sizeable distance. Of course, the dragon definitely saw where he was going. It could most easily follow the crack moving through the ground beneath it.
He heard the booming steps of the dragon behind him, gaining in speed and pace, determined to make sure he does not escape. The vibrations give him some difficulty when moving, his earthly form being thrown around. He just managed to keep his unbalanced form in check, and sustained the pass wall, until he felt there was enough distance between him and the dragon. It wasn't far, but the sudden stop caused the dragon to be confused. It could not see him, it could not smell him, it could not hear him and it certainly could not feel him.
He knew he would be found by the beast eventually. Attla paused, his stone coffin enveloping him. He had no manner of escape. But he had time, and time gives time for thinking.
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 21, 2016 6:39:38 GMT -8
Dimitri had to let his sense of hearing guide him to the dragon, his eyes having yet to adjust to the darkness and shadow of the cave. Following the repetitive footfalls of the large beast, mainly hoping that he wasn't chasing an echo and went down any branching paths. Slowing down once the thumps of the beast have ceased, now having to figure out his way from the breathing he could now hear.
His eyes finally having had time enough to adjust, Dimitri to see clearly inside the cave system. Now with a sure path and footing, he quickly made his way towards the breathing, probably taking a few minutes to catch sight of the actual dragon. If the dragon was there, then that wizard couldn't be far. Figuring the dragon probably heard him approaching what with his heavy armor and whatnot, he had no choice of stealth remaining to him. So switching his dialect to Draconic, he tried conversing with the dragon, hoping to avoid a fight if he could with the large creature. "So, I guess that darn wizard is somewhere around here then. You wouldn't mind if I just grabbed him and left would ya?"
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Apr 21, 2016 7:18:12 GMT -8
THE DRAGON
The dragon was uncaring. Whoever this small morsel was, even if it could converse with him, was in his way, and prey should not talk back to predators. It turned a scaly head and stared straight down into the eyes of it's armoured opponent. It settled its crimson maw and released a beam of fire, attempting to eviscerate Dimitri on the spot. The flames, heated to huge temperatures, could bore through solid rock. Underestimating a dragon is not a good idea.
ATTLA
The ruckus alerted Attla's ears, the sound of clanking, metal boots reverberated across the cavern. The sound was dwarfed by the dragons own stomps, but the sudden pause in its movement allowed Attla to hear the metallic echo. He was unsure who exactly this new figure was. He could only hear one set of footsteps. He could not pinpoint if it was the idiot knight, or the goody-two-shoes paladin. He honestly could not care at this point who it was. A distraction would come I. handy, considering he had a 10 ton lizard bearing down on him.
He was stuck in a state of inaction, of desperation and fear, as the figure stopped and proceeded to speak. Attla did not know what words came out of the mysterious figures mouth, however, this led him to assume it was some being from the caves, some armoured ghoul or golem of sorts. He had a lot to speculate upon, waiting for something to happen.
Then he heard it. The high-pitch whir of the dragon's throat, as it prepared to launch it's deadly beam of fire. Attla knew immediately, whoever said is up there is certainly in for a bad time.
He decided to get a closer look, moving his head above the ground.
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 21, 2016 8:25:17 GMT -8
Dimitri waited on the dragon's response, eyes meeting in the stillness of the cave. When the dragon took a deep inhale of breath, the little warrior could tell that this dragon was not in a talking mood. Dimitri quickly brought a hand to the amulet he wore and touched one of the four gems embroidered into the main piece. Bringing the same hand in front of him erected a dragon flame shield, protecting him from the fire and heat of the dragon's breath.
Waiting patiently for the flame beam to cease, he stated one phrase in common. "Guess you don't like talking then, least not with words." With the fire beam ended, Dimitri charged forward at a pace faster than his normal form would allow, slicing at scales as he passed beneath the dragon. His arms able to stretch with each attack, swinging upon the softer underbelly of the dragon in his mad dash. His adamantine halberd being his weapon of choice, made specifically to slice through any material one might use for armor; leather, iron, obsidian, dragon scale armor, and even adamantine armor. All material could be cut with the sharpness of the halberd axe.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Apr 21, 2016 9:01:29 GMT -8
DRAGON
The dissipation of his beam shocked the dragon, however, being a dragon, he still had fast reflexes. He could see the warrior was attempting to reach his underbelly. He reacted quickly, using his wings to push his body forcefully up from the ground. He was an intelligent beast and he had been involved in many fights before. He had seen the strength of his opponent, if he was able to ward off his fire beam that easily, he would surely be a strong opponent, and considering he himself was not the biggest of dragons, he decided putting distance between he and him must be the best course of action. He hadn't his pride left, the very idea of pride crushed when he was a young dragon.
His size allowed him to reach a good distance above the ground, a good fifty foot or so. His strength lay in his breath. A meek dragon like him must find manners of gaing an advantage. He aimed his head down and proceeded to attack this draconic being with his immensely powerful fire beam. He hoped this attacker would leave his cave.
ATTLA
There was no mistaking it now. The tone of voice, the general character behind the figure, told him immediately it was Dimitri. It was to be expected, honestly. But the real question is, why does he know how to speak this strange language? Was he talking to the dragon? Or was he just speaking gibberish? Fitting for a man of his intellect, Attla decided.
The beam.. how did he manage to evade such a powerful weapon? It was strange. Was Dimitri far more powerful than he had anticipated? Damn. He probably won't die. Probably will make his operation, the stealing of the gold, a less seamless experience. His plan of hoarding it all might not go the way he expected after all.
He could still barely see his surroundings, with his head out of the ground. He was facing the wrong direction.
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Apr 21, 2016 9:41:59 GMT -8
"An aerial fight inside a cave, really? For such a large dragon I thought you would be smarter than that." Dimitri speaks in Draconic. Hearing another sharp intake of breath, it was easy to surmise and dragon breath was incoming. Was that attack the only thing this lizard knew? Well, a single beam from above is far simpler to dodge than one from the side. Using his agility form, he kicked off from the ground, soaring right above the ground for about 25 feet before rolling into another standing position. With the dragon in the air, he couldn't reach it, least not by himself.
A quick look around to survey the area let him know that stalagmites and stalactites rising into joined columns near the cave walls. He could jump his way up between the columns and wall, but that would leave him exposed to the dragon's fire beams. He had a secondary thought concerning the stalactites, with them dotting across the cavern roof. With a quick shout in common, "Hey Attla, would be a good time for your fireballs." Keeping attention to the dragon so he could be prepared to dodge any more breathes.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Apr 21, 2016 10:25:02 GMT -8
Attla transmogrified himself back into his human form, acting speedily, knowing the dragons back was turned. Unbeknownst to Dimitri, Attla could not throw fireballs. In fact, he was scared of fire. He only had one alternative, and that was through his summons. He just needed a sacrifice.. cutting himself would be adequate payment for a summoned demon, but he would not risk his blood for a idiot knight like Dimitri. He instead looked around wildly for something to use.. anything.
He was struck by an idea. He could summon an adequately powerful demon if he sacrificed the dragon's tail in a pact.
He was of too long distance to actively hold down the dragon. But a split-second of restraints implanted on the dragon would certainly be enough. He launched a small, earthly tendril from the nearest wall, latching onto the dragons tail, keeping it in place, for amount of time.
"Dimitri, throw your halberd at the dragon's tail! Do it now!"
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