Saffra
Jan 4, 2010 23:18:03 GMT -6
Post by Saffra on Jan 4, 2010 23:18:03 GMT -6
Alt of Marle
Name: Saffra Therin
Class: Dragon
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Red
Age: Around 2300 years old
Appearance: Saffra features long, flowing, gorgeous hair, dusky purple in colour . Always, her wings are apparent, despite what she has been told to keep them concealed; she will never deceive anyone, again. The white colour of her scales were outlined with a thin colour of blue near the tips, leathery spans almost shimmer when the light reflects off them directly.
Clothes: Wearing a scarf around her neck, and red dress-like garment, mostly used by sages, embroidered with golden thread around the cuffs and neck. The shawl splits at the sides for her legs, under, white pants, and gray boots adorn her body's lower torso.
Born in: Western fringes of the Western Isles
Story: The scouring, the darkest of days for all dragons who claimed Elibe as their world, upended and thrown down from their mantle by the human race. It was a sore topic for many who survived…and not many did. Though she did…one thousand years ago this day, approximately, Saffra fought, and survived. Nine-hundred or so years ago, Saffra lived on the cliffs, in the meadows, and in the skies, free of the burden that is her human form today.
For the first half of her life, roughly, the living was good, being such a magnificent being as a dragon gave her this awesome power, she was but a god among creatures, but she was gentle in her ways. She was not controlling, nor demanded anything but respect from those she thought as lesser creatures, such as humans For a time, she lived in harmony with them, until she was almost a full thousand years old, and then everything changed.
War came, the humans suddenly cried out with oppression towards her kind. Saffra, at the time, did not understand this, she was fair with the humans, and had never killed a single one of them until the war came. She knew her strengths well, but the humans had weapons that defied the natural order of things. With those weapons, they tore the dragons apart with ease. Creatures with magnitudes of strength greater than something barely bigger than a claw, had bested them.
Saffra had not ever directly engaged one of these “Eight Heroes.” She had fought in some of the same battles as them, and like all creatures, she knew lost. She had lost her lover, her mate, to them, cut down by one of them, she later found out. Throughout the war, the earth changed, as did their bodies. Saffra killed many humans during that war, as did many other dragons, before they were bested. The hardest part of losing the war, was the loss of her form, forced to live in human form for the rest of her living life. What an insult
For the rest of her life, she watched the world change around her. After the war, it was hard to find ay of her kind, her people were scattered to fend for themselves in such frail forms as these. It took a couple of hundred years for her to find a place to settle, for the world to wait, and forget about dragons, to fade into legend.
Life took on a simpler way later in years. She lived in a small community on the Western Isles for many years, along with a few others of her kind. Humans did some trade with her little village, but were unknown to the danger of what they were. With time, the community grew, and settled. For a time after the war, Saffra was happy again. Life was lonely, however, without love. Centuries went, and Saffra grew tired of her settlement, and went out into the world again, to see how it changed, and change it did. Countries of old ceased to exist, and new ones were erected in their places. All unique and different. Most unique were the Sacaens..
After her travels ere at an end, she went to live in Eturia, as that was where she once called home before the Scouring. She settled in a small town which was close to the cliff where she would have spent countless years living upon, and watching the world below. While living her discreet life, she made friends with an old sage, named Robert. He taught her things in life she already knew well, but Saffra feigned sincere interest, since he was an elderly man, with a pure heart, and he talked to her out of kindness and familiarity, since she looked like his married daughter, whom looked much older.
At night, brigands came, and the town guards were delt with quickly. Robert tried to save the village on his own, but he was struck threw the chest with an arrow. Saffra was frightened now as they turned in on her, and the people who were at her back. Infuriated now with the slaying of her friend, she drew power from her Dragonstone she kept close at heart, and threw one of the men across the road and into a wooden wall of a building. There was a stunned silence between the crackling of fire on wood.
Eyes stared down at Saffra, as she beckoned power from her Dragonstone, wings broke out, and sprout from her back, the ice coloured scales and leather webbing shimmered in the moonlight and off the light provided from the flames on torched houses. As a dragon, rage consumed her, many she tore apart with claws and teeth, while others ran. When the conflict was over, she turned back, but when she went to see her friends, she knew she would not be well received. Terrified eyes watched her now, women hugging their children, and men hugging their families, huddled together like scared livestock in a corner. She had destroyed most of the village on her rampage.
After the carnage, Saffra settled in the ruin of the village. She looked around, fully aware of the damage she caused, and she seemed saddened at such a waste, but inside, she was angry, no, furious. Humans hadn’t changed at all, still warmongering, still oppressive of their own. What fools these people were to think they could govern themselves without insight from dragons…fool things. Many wee afraid of her that were still alive, but Saffra paid no heed to them, she went to her friend, the old sage, and knelt next to him. His voice was raspy, and breathing hard. The tweo of them knew he was not long for this world.
"I know I am old, and I won't be around much longer...but when I die, could you take my staff to her in Pherea?"
It was such a humble request to ask, but she had accepted. She owed him that much for the kindness he showed. Taking his trinket, she left the village on wings of white to Pherae. In her heart, she would do this for a friend…but something inside her clawed and gnawed at her. Perhaps choosing to live with humans again wasn’t the wisest to do…she remembered her love of long ago. She realized that she had been keeping it bottled up, but now that the cork was popped, she realized.
She had no real love for these people.
Name: Saffra Therin
Class: Dragon
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Red
Age: Around 2300 years old
Appearance: Saffra features long, flowing, gorgeous hair, dusky purple in colour . Always, her wings are apparent, despite what she has been told to keep them concealed; she will never deceive anyone, again. The white colour of her scales were outlined with a thin colour of blue near the tips, leathery spans almost shimmer when the light reflects off them directly.
Clothes: Wearing a scarf around her neck, and red dress-like garment, mostly used by sages, embroidered with golden thread around the cuffs and neck. The shawl splits at the sides for her legs, under, white pants, and gray boots adorn her body's lower torso.
Born in: Western fringes of the Western Isles
Story: The scouring, the darkest of days for all dragons who claimed Elibe as their world, upended and thrown down from their mantle by the human race. It was a sore topic for many who survived…and not many did. Though she did…one thousand years ago this day, approximately, Saffra fought, and survived. Nine-hundred or so years ago, Saffra lived on the cliffs, in the meadows, and in the skies, free of the burden that is her human form today.
For the first half of her life, roughly, the living was good, being such a magnificent being as a dragon gave her this awesome power, she was but a god among creatures, but she was gentle in her ways. She was not controlling, nor demanded anything but respect from those she thought as lesser creatures, such as humans For a time, she lived in harmony with them, until she was almost a full thousand years old, and then everything changed.
War came, the humans suddenly cried out with oppression towards her kind. Saffra, at the time, did not understand this, she was fair with the humans, and had never killed a single one of them until the war came. She knew her strengths well, but the humans had weapons that defied the natural order of things. With those weapons, they tore the dragons apart with ease. Creatures with magnitudes of strength greater than something barely bigger than a claw, had bested them.
Saffra had not ever directly engaged one of these “Eight Heroes.” She had fought in some of the same battles as them, and like all creatures, she knew lost. She had lost her lover, her mate, to them, cut down by one of them, she later found out. Throughout the war, the earth changed, as did their bodies. Saffra killed many humans during that war, as did many other dragons, before they were bested. The hardest part of losing the war, was the loss of her form, forced to live in human form for the rest of her living life. What an insult
For the rest of her life, she watched the world change around her. After the war, it was hard to find ay of her kind, her people were scattered to fend for themselves in such frail forms as these. It took a couple of hundred years for her to find a place to settle, for the world to wait, and forget about dragons, to fade into legend.
Life took on a simpler way later in years. She lived in a small community on the Western Isles for many years, along with a few others of her kind. Humans did some trade with her little village, but were unknown to the danger of what they were. With time, the community grew, and settled. For a time after the war, Saffra was happy again. Life was lonely, however, without love. Centuries went, and Saffra grew tired of her settlement, and went out into the world again, to see how it changed, and change it did. Countries of old ceased to exist, and new ones were erected in their places. All unique and different. Most unique were the Sacaens..
After her travels ere at an end, she went to live in Eturia, as that was where she once called home before the Scouring. She settled in a small town which was close to the cliff where she would have spent countless years living upon, and watching the world below. While living her discreet life, she made friends with an old sage, named Robert. He taught her things in life she already knew well, but Saffra feigned sincere interest, since he was an elderly man, with a pure heart, and he talked to her out of kindness and familiarity, since she looked like his married daughter, whom looked much older.
At night, brigands came, and the town guards were delt with quickly. Robert tried to save the village on his own, but he was struck threw the chest with an arrow. Saffra was frightened now as they turned in on her, and the people who were at her back. Infuriated now with the slaying of her friend, she drew power from her Dragonstone she kept close at heart, and threw one of the men across the road and into a wooden wall of a building. There was a stunned silence between the crackling of fire on wood.
Eyes stared down at Saffra, as she beckoned power from her Dragonstone, wings broke out, and sprout from her back, the ice coloured scales and leather webbing shimmered in the moonlight and off the light provided from the flames on torched houses. As a dragon, rage consumed her, many she tore apart with claws and teeth, while others ran. When the conflict was over, she turned back, but when she went to see her friends, she knew she would not be well received. Terrified eyes watched her now, women hugging their children, and men hugging their families, huddled together like scared livestock in a corner. She had destroyed most of the village on her rampage.
After the carnage, Saffra settled in the ruin of the village. She looked around, fully aware of the damage she caused, and she seemed saddened at such a waste, but inside, she was angry, no, furious. Humans hadn’t changed at all, still warmongering, still oppressive of their own. What fools these people were to think they could govern themselves without insight from dragons…fool things. Many wee afraid of her that were still alive, but Saffra paid no heed to them, she went to her friend, the old sage, and knelt next to him. His voice was raspy, and breathing hard. The tweo of them knew he was not long for this world.
"I know I am old, and I won't be around much longer...but when I die, could you take my staff to her in Pherea?"
It was such a humble request to ask, but she had accepted. She owed him that much for the kindness he showed. Taking his trinket, she left the village on wings of white to Pherae. In her heart, she would do this for a friend…but something inside her clawed and gnawed at her. Perhaps choosing to live with humans again wasn’t the wisest to do…she remembered her love of long ago. She realized that she had been keeping it bottled up, but now that the cork was popped, she realized.
She had no real love for these people.