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Dresdon Muren

Hot-headed warrior.

0 · 308 views · located in The Ruins

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Jerico Do'Lantul

Description

Image
Always wears his armor on top of forest green clothing. The gloves, boots, and shoulders are made from a hardened and tempered steel capable of flexing around the bodyso as not to break, and to increase mobility. The plates are also angled so as to deflect thrusts and to turn a strong, slashing strike into a glancing blow. Each piece has been enchanted in a different way, but each one has been made to be unbreakable

Personality

Generally hot-headed, Dresdon will use any excuse to get into it with someone. As a warrior outcast, he has an insatiable need to prove that he's stronger than the next person. He comes from Ivalice, where William Davis left after freeing the world from evil. Neither one is aware of the other, but Dresdon played a role in William and friends' success. He can usually be found brooding in Gambit's, just waiting for someone to rub him the wrong way. He will only connect with a female, as he won't fight a woman right-out, unless she proves to be worth his full effort. The woman's physical attractiveness, age and race/species has no bearing on this peculiar trait.

Equipment

Carries with him a large poleaxe, capable of slicing through tank armor like a hot knife through butter, when activated. Ordinarily, it is just a regular poleaxe, but when in combat, the edge of the blade glows orange, and is capable of inflicting 3rd degree burns, on contact. When cutting through an object, or an opponent, the edges of the blow will immediately be seared, and flesh will be cauterized, meaning the blood will be boiled away, and the wound burned closed. As a result, healing effects by magical means will be nigh impossible, especially where dismemberment is involved. Also carries a small knife to use as a tool, or for defence, should he lose his poleaxe.

Dresdon's boots have been enchanted to help him run faster and farther, without tireing. His shoulders have been enchanted to protect him from magical attacks, though they cannot cancel out all spells; they will simply mitigate the damage they would have done. Certain spells, such as those that inflict instant death, are nullified entirely. His cape alerts him to attacks from behind, or when a ranged attack is heading towards him, including projectiles, which can be sensed from up to a quarter of a mile away(it will warn him just before the projectile is launched; before the trigger is pulled, or, in the case of a bow and arrow/crossbow, before the arrow/bolt is released, giving him time, if only a split second, to dodge). His gloves grant him additional strength, putting him on-par with men fives times his size and build. This also allows him to swing his pole-axe faster, and with more precision.

When Dresdon is pushed to his limits, in combat, he will activate the true form of his poleaxe. The head will split into two identical blades, and the haft will split in half; each half attached to one head. Both blades will glow the same orange, and each one will still be as deadly as the poleaxe in it's whole form. Dresdon weilds each of these blades in either hand, and is able to move them much quicker than the poleaxe.

History

As a warrior, it was considered his duty to defend the world from the evil that beset it some years ago. Outnumbed by the forces of evil, his entire unit was destroyed, and he was left for dead. Despite this, he was exiled for failing in his duty to Ivalice. Later, he would return to help the heroes of Ivalice as they fought to liberate the land, but has yet to be reinstated as a soldier. Infuriated, he left Ivalice in search for greener pastures, and has wound up in Wing City, where he has become little more than a violent drunk.

So begins...

Dresdon Muren's Story

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Dresdon Muren stumbles in through the front door, nearly falling over as he does so. Alcohol hangs upon his breath as he groans loudly, straightening with his hands on the small of his back. A loud crackle would be heard as presses against his spine. "Shit.." Shaking his head, he would turn, immediately, towards the bar counter, shambling towards it with a less-than-alert gait. The shaft of his poleaxe would graze a nearby chair, sending it toppling over. Dresdon glance over, bewildered, and manages to overturn another chair, nearby. After a moment, he reaches back to hold the poleaxe perpendicular to the floor, grumbling incoherently as he continues towards the back, flopping down in a seat as his hand nonchallantly passes over the touch-screen menu. "Mmmff.." Need alcohol. That would fix everything!

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*glances over

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Dresdon Muren sighs as he half looks towards Vampiric Rage and River Benine. "Could you keep it down, over there?" His head throbbed, and he was feeling irratable. Even speaking caused him more pain, which only served to fuel his temper.

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Dresdon Muren frowns and sticks his own tongue out at James, childishly. "Little brat.." Despite himself, he would return to the menu, ordering himself a whiskey. He reaches back to withdraw several gold coins, which are accepted here, at Gambit's, as are most currencies of the Multiverse.

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Dresdon Muren frowns again, turning his head sluggishly in the woman's direction as she addresses him. "Why don't you just mind your own damn business, huh? Ppffsh.." he returns his attention to the counter as he graps the whiskey in his hand, lifting it to his lips to take a long drink. His armor clacks together, slightly, as he does so, and his poleaxe shifts in position, th eheavy head causing him to lean to one side as it unbalences him. He falters, for a moment, before righting himself. "Shit.."

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Dresdon Muren shakes his head. "Bitch..?" His left hand smacks down on the counter loudly as he rises, his right hand reaching around to grasp the shaft of his poleaxe, which comes unfastened from his back. With unsettling eas, he brings it around as he turns to face the woman, his left hand serving to hold him upright as he points the large weapon in her direction. "You don't know shit, girl.. I would watch your mouth, were I you.." The blade of his weapon remained unactivated, meaning he couldn't cause anyone much harm, yet. He didn't have much intention to attack the woman.. he just couldn't abide being called a bitch.

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*unsettling ease

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Dresdon Muren chuckles slightly as his thumb grazes one of the runes on the shaft of his poleaxe. Immediately, the edge of the weapon would begin to glow a bright shade of orange, sparking, slightly, as it charges up. "You might want to rethink that.." He pays no mind to the.. talking snowman. He already had one problem to deal with.

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Dresdon Muren arcs and eyebrow. He was unfamiliar with saiyens, or how they worked. If he did, he would know that she was more than a match for him. As it was, currently, his somewhat chivalrous tendencies would prevent him from engaging her outright, unless she came at him. "Ppffsh.. sounds like a bunsh of panzies.." The blade of his poleaxe would continue to hum, slightly, as he turns towards Vampiric Rage. "That so..? Well, that would make my evening.." He chuckles again, quietly.

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*If he had been

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Dresdon Muren lifts the poleaxe above his head, sending it in a wide arc that creates a small trail of orange light around him as the glow follows the poleaxe's path, before settling it down to point towards Vampiric Rage. "He's not so tough.." He grins, slightly.

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Dresdon Muren burps, slightly, as the alcohol threatens to come back up. He was in no condition to fight, and he knew it. Still, no one here seemed up to the task, either. He spits on the floor, expelling a small amount of bile with it, before raising the poleaxe back up. The edge simmers and dies, becoming a regular steel edge, again. "I've got no time to take you to school.. so you get a break, today." He slurs slightly as he points in Vampiric Rage's direction. "Don't trryme again.. fool. Next time, you won't wake up at all, when I'm through with you.." And, with that, Dresdon tursn from the bar, his cape whiping around to follow him as he makes his way back to the front entrance. Two more chairs would manage to get overturned, in his wake. "Son of a bitch..!"

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Dresdon Muren 's right boot connects with the solid door of Gambit's, sending it flying open to slam into the wall, harshly. The sound of stressed wood could be heard, along with a series of small cracks. His hair an organized mess, Dresdon enters the room, his eyes shifting from one spot to the next, searching for anyone currently who wanted to pick a bone with him. Seeing no one was in the bar, at the moment, he sighs, slightly, before making his way towards the bar counter. There was no swagger in his step, today; he was sober, a state that he hoped to correct, soon. The polearm on his back rests at an angle, the heavy metal head protruding from behind his head as he takes his seat, snatching up the touch-screen menue to peruse the bar's wide variety of booze.

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*menu

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Dresdon Muren barely even notices the woman's entrance, though her guard's mention of "a lone drunk and his spear" catches his attention. Being called a drunk was one thing (the truth), but being little more than a man with a stick was a bit more than he could bare, at the moment. Having no alcohol in his system, Dresdon was a little more than aggravated, as it was. Still, he was in no mood to fight.. yet. Reaching behind himself, he grasps the haft of his poleaxe and brings it to his side, laying it against the bar counter as he thumbs an order of whiskey with his other hand. "This.. "spear".. could turn you into half the man you already are in a single motion.. Best not to speak out of turn, lest your.." He turns his head, slightly, to catch a glimpse of Celebrie Altadriel, "..mistress finds herself in need of a replacement escort." With that, Dresdon turns back to the counter as his whiskey arrives.

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Dresdon Muren scoffs loudly as he lifts his drink to his lips, taking a measured sip. Sighing slightly as he sets it back down on the counter, he replies without turning back to face the troupe.

"Altan.. well, old man, the words weren't meant for you, but they apply just as easily. As for your station," He pauses to rub the sleep from one of his eyes. "I couldn't care less if you were her gardener and your partner was her wet nurse."

Dresdon takes another sip of his whiskey. Your move.

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Dresdon Muren replies quickly, "And the wet nurse, with a moist towelett, I'm sure. They may not accept anybody, but you must be hard-pressed for talent if the old man is still in service. What, you couldn't afford the newer model, or no one was daft enough to want the job? To need guards at all suggests that your rule is somewhat.. troubled?" He pauses to take another small sip of his whiskey.

"Still. Good of you to defend your men, bravo. Whether you defend their honor or your own is irrelevant; moral would drop fairly quickly if your guards knew how innept they were." He chuckles mutely as he orders a second whisky, though his first is not yet half finished.

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*Morale

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Dresdon Muren turns his head towards them, slightly, eyeing them from the corner of his vison. "Rikah's the wet nurse, is he? Ah, just as well, I suppose. Wet nurses know enough of etiiquette, themselves, but, then, I suppose it's the older one who should hold that title." He turns, then, to face them fully, his legs parted lazily, his right boot resting on the stool he was sitting upon. He keeps his right arm on the counter, his hand near his new drink while the other hand droops at his size, near his poleaxe, his hand obscured by the tattered cape he wore.

"A wet nurse would have had more sence than to judge a man she didn't know. The old man might have known that, though he hadn't seen fit to impart it on his younger comrad. Probably too preoccupied with trying to remember what day it is, today."

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Dresdon Muren adds, "Which makes Rikah the gardener." He smirks and raises his drink in the young man's direction.