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Faran'nok

No armor can match the scales of a dragon.

0 · 186 views · located in Solinus Sea Coastline

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Ikiros

Groups

In the valley of Orak Ma'az lies the last true homeland of the native dragons on Terra.

Description

Image

Dragon form-
Name: Faran'nok
Alias: Mountain's Roar
Race: Dragon Reincarnation
Age: 639/ageless
Eyes: Green
Height: 14' 3"
Weight: 813 lbs
Eyes: Bright Green
Scales: Brown
Wingspan: 58' 4"
Length: 45' 11"

Faran'nok is a dragon of Orak Ma'az, one who has never been beyond the valley's borders and has seen only that which the valley holds. As such, he is always shaped as a dragon and has no other forms available to him as of yet. he scales are a deep brown, though along his dorsal ridge and fin the brown shifts to green along the edges. His wings mirror the coloration of his ridge, being brown at the front and shifting to a deep, forest green on the trailing edge. Despite his large size, Faran'nok is more than capable of getting airborne, and even doing a substantial amount of aerial maneuvers, he simply prefers to remain on the ground. Being a Stone Dragon, he has been relegated to the defense of his homeland, and only recently has he heard that there are whispers on the winds of something coming near to his homeland in the future.

Personality

Faran'nok is very, very rigid in his beliefs, many of which involve the superiority of dragon kind in comparison to the other races of the world. Having had no experience beyond the mountain walls of Orak Ma'az, his knowledge is incredible, but limited. He can name hundred of things from the lore of his kin, but he knows very little of the world beyond and, unfortunately, believes that humans are still living in much the same fashion as they were in the Middle Ages. Normally, he is rather relaxed and calm, but he remains as unyielding as his scales when arguing, even if he might be wrong.

Equipment

Faran'nok has nothing more than the skills he was born with and has trained to use. Among them are his fangs and his talons, along with his wings and tail for simple brute force. He also wields dragonfire, a type of flame which burns hotter than normal and is colored according to the dragon using it, acting almost as a fingerprint. His is a dark green in color, with flecks of black at the base, but aside from that, there is nothing more notable about it.

Eventually, he will gain his Soulblade, a sword that is, in fact, a shard of his own soul. This sword, and all like it, are made of pure crystal, warped and formed through magic lost to time. Each is enchanted never to break or dull, and they are unable to be removed from the body that they are a part of, save for by the most powerful of magics.

History

Unknown.

So begins...

Faran'nok's Story

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#, as written by Ikiros
bloop

The setting changes from room-of-reason to Gambit's Bar

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#, as written by Ikiros
Whump. The sound rolled through the bar as if it were made of jello, glasses rattling and clinking together. Whump. The raw concussive force came again, this time louder and stronger, though distinctly coming from outside the bar. Whud. The third sound was different, a dull crash almost, and coming from directly outside the door. Whatever was making the noises had arrived.

As the door opened, it stretched and morphed to accommodate the being entering. It didn't shift much, as it had been built larger than average on purpose, bu it was still forced to widen and grow. In through the now massive opening stepped a brown-scaled creature, a long slender neck stretching between head and body, while a pair of large leathery-looking wings folded down to the beast's sides with a rustle. Although it was not the first of it kind to set foot here, the sight was no less impressive.

A dragon had come to Gambit's Bar.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The large male dragon, nearly all fifty feet of him, was now withing the bar. he'd never been within a human dwelling before and, in fact, had never even met any humans before today. despite his sheltered life, and his lack of the ability to converse with them, he was well-educated and well versed in his own lore and the teachings of his kin.

A growl rolled from his half-closed maw. He doubted that it would be understood by any around, as his dialect and manner of speech were ancient, even among his kind, but there was always the possibility. His eyes widened, however, as one of the two-legs suddenly shifted into the form of a sleek, black dragon, though it was tinier than any he'd seen before.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Faran'nok looked around, noticing that several sets of eyes had suddenly found themselves drawn to look at him. As it should be, of course, but prying eyes tended to see more than what was truly there. He snorted, a thin cloud haze of smoke puffing out from his maw, before he noticed the large fire int he fireplace.

Choosing to wait for one to approach him, as he was the more dominant species, the brown-scaled behemoth crawled to the hearth and lay himself down before the flames, one side of him warming while the other kept him cool.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The sudden, growling voice from beside him caught Faran'nok's attention. The language was older than even he was, a tongue used by the ancients of his kind, and it was something he'd not expected to hear here. he turned his green -eyed gaze to the little orange dragon that had spoken to him.

"A dragon walking on two legs...You must have been raised wrong. No kin of mine would consent to walk as the humans and their ilk do. It is below our kind. And name or no, you are no more than a hatchling, so small you are. Perhaps you would care to explain why you looked like a human mere moments ago, as well?" His voice, to most of the bar, would sound like nothing more than a long string of growls, growing more agitated as it went on, but otherwise it was simply him speaking in the ancient dragons' tongue.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The male looked at Chris intently before speaking, and when he did so, his words were like stones.

"You speak to much, and too quickly. Calm yourself, youngling, and I shall weave for you a tale that may or may not be entirely true." He lifted his head and looked out over the various patrons in the bar, his gaze picking out the others who were, although not exactly, like him. The was the sleek, black creature at the counter, along with the brightly plumed tropical dragon, and then there were the two bipeds. How much he disliked the idea of using only two legs.

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Faran'nok watched the other dragons for a moment before looking back at Christopher. He opened his jaws and breathed out a short plume of emerald flames, speaking all the while. The flames did not burn the floor, or even touch it, but stayed int he air and began to shift into shapes that matched the tales of the words.

"There was a time, long before our time, when our kin ruled the earth. Creature of all types knew us as supreme beings, falling at our feet and bowing when we passed by. Our race grew arrogant, and that arrogance filtered into our blood. Ages passed, and man crawled into being. At first, we viewed them as food, like any other beast, but they were smart, smarter than any simple animal. They began to find out when we ate, when we slept. They learned and grew wise enough to think that they might take our place as rulers. And they did. At first, we held them at bay, but as the decades passed, they make spears so small you could not see them. Spears that drove through our armor and burned at our bodies. Remember this, young one, and know why I dislike that which walks on two legs."

As he finished, the flames flicked into nothingness, vanishing and leaving the area much darker than before.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The sides of the dragon heaved as he sighed, his eyes rolling slightly. Such melodrama. It seemed like every one of his kin needed it to live. First it had been those who had not wanted him to leave, now it showed itself here. Perhaps he simply was the only one who did not feel the need. He looked at the two standing next to him.

"There are ways to leave your form behind, hatchling. You know how to shift shapes to the body you currently wear. Is it so hard to simply stretch a bit further and simply assume the shape I wear?" One of his brows had raised as he asked the question, wondering at the extent of the young one's ailment.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Faran'nok thought about this, humming so deeply that the floor vibrated slightly. He let his tongue flick out into the air, tasting it and the scents of those around him, searching for something in particular. It was there once, twice. He realized what it was that might be keeping the man-dragon from returning to the shape designed for him by Nature's forge.

"You are missing your flame, youngling. Without it, you will never return to the form your blood knows best."

he was going to say more, but the sudden appearance of the knight in black had drawn his attention. He could not understand the human's words, for he spoke only the language of his kin and birth, but he could feel the magic in the air as the blade was brought forth. He hissed and stood, his body raising into a crouch.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The brown-scaled dragon backed closer to the corner, still not sure how to go about things. He would have attacked the knight, had the knight attacked first, but seeing the hatchling charge in did nothing but reinforce the teachings that the young were foolish. It was one of the reasons why his kin had told those less than two hundred human years of age not to venture beyond the valley they called home.

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#, as written by Ikiros
At the entrance of the unicorn, Faran'nok stood straight to his full, fourteen and a quarter feet of height. He flared his wings and thrashed his tail about, splintering three tables and their chairs without thinking. he maw opened, the pink of his gums and the white of his teeth showing and glistening with saliva.

And then it and the knight began to circle. He looked at the armored human, his pupils narrowing to slits before he turned his gaze back on the unicorn. he was thinking about asking it a question, suspecting that it would understand, being a creature born of magic, but then he began to feel his strength ebb int he slightest and felt the magic searching for weak points in his hide.

His rippling growl released as a roar of defiance, the magic that was reaching its tendril over him snapping away from his body as though snapped into hundred of shards. He did not take kindly to those who brought harm upon him or to those who tried.

"Greetings, Fellhorn. Know now that you shall face me in eternal combat, as I know that we two shall return to this world many times over." His draconic had become suddenly incredibly archaic, but the language was of an age where all creatures understood the languages anything spoke, and could thus be understood, even by the knight. With another roar, Faran'nok released a jet of flame, emerald in color, at the unicorn.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Hidden by the shadows, and lodged rather firmly in one of the bar's corners, lay a large, brown, scaly mound. Until now, it had simply been there, doing nothing more than rising and falling as some massive beast breathed in and out. However, that had changed. The sudden influx of patrons to the bar had begun to cause a stir, the noise of which had woken the creature from it's slumber.

Faran'nok uncurled himself and raised his head, groaning ever so slightly as the motions stretched him where he was sore from being curled. He licked his maw and then yawned, flashing razor-sharp teeth at the bar before clamping his jaws shut with a snap. As he fully came about, he realized that, as he'd expected, the bar was filled with filthy humans. He wondered why he'd stayed here, only to find that he could hardly remember falling asleep at all. He put it to the arduous flight that brought him here, and the exhaustion that it must have caused him, to explain his sudden sleep in a human dwelling.

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Faran'nok flicked his tongue from his mouth, tasting the scents in the bar. He'd relied on sight so far, and thus he'd not known whether those he saw were really human, or simply hiding among them. His eyes widened slightly in surprise when he found the scent of another dragon, although it wasn't as strong or as pure as he might have wished. He scanned the bar again, his eyes vibrant and green against his brown hide.

Alas, though, he was unable to properly distinguish the scent's owner from the mass of being within, having never taken the time to learn the differences between one human and another. Instead, he turned his gaze to the hearth where only a single tongue of flame burned on the logs. He breathed out a bright green gout of fire, only enough to bathe the wood in green, before pulling back to watch the flames turn red and grow.

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Faran'nok grinned as the flames returned to life, only to watch them dwindle without reason. He snapped his head around, looking for the source, only to see a young woman standing beside a bipedal dragon-kin that he'd not seen before. He assumed that the dragon had simply been sitting, though he couldn't understand why any of his kind would wear the guise of a two-legs.

He remained where he was, however, as although he didn't care much for humans and their creations, he'd not go and willingly destroy things. not unless he had a reason to. As it was, he felt content to remain where he was and have them come to him. It was only proper as well, since he was the only one of them to be int he form best suited for their kind.

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Faran'nok, seeing that the others were content to stay where they were, breathed again on the flames, though not with nearly as much of his natural fire as before. He growled in a language long lost to the world, and known almost exclusively among his kind, before curling himself back up. He didn't go back to sleep, but he figured he'd be more comfortable like this while he waited.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Faran'nok raised his head from his paws, his green eyes opening once more. It had certainly taken them long enough. Either way, he flicked his tongue out to taste their scents. Without any doubt, these were the two he smelled beforehand. As the male spoke, the larger dragon tilted his head slightly and began to smile slightly. He couldn't even begin to know the words being spoken, as it was still in the common language of humans, not his native voice. When he spoke, however, it was int he language of his ancestors and his kin.

"You would do better at telling me things were you speaking in the tongue of our race, two-legs. However, I can only assume that you were either greeting me, or insulting me. As I choose it to be the former, you have my greetings in return. I am Faran'nok, He who has scales of Stone." To most of those that heard him, he would simply be growling over and over, but to these two, he would be easily understood.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The brown dragon dipped his head in a nod.

"It is a pleasure to meet the both of you, though you confuse me, as did those that I met last night. I wonder..." He grumbled a bit, forming his thoughts before continuing. "Tell me something, if you could. Why is it that you choose to walk like humans? Why walk on two legs and not on four?" He turned to Reiku. "And why not let your scales show through? Surely you two would prefer to look as dragons are meant to?"

He watched them, the light hardly reflecting off his scales, but rather sinking into them and making them look deep and hollow.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Faran'nok brought his head, a chunk of him nearly as large as the draconian's torso, to rest in the air beside the half-dragon. "A Draconian, you say? Half-breed? Nonsense. None with dragon blood are truly half-breeds. If you can find your flame, that which makes you a dragon, then you can use it's magic to will yourself into a form like that of those with the purest blood." He lifted his head and then slicked his tongue out.

"Or I could see what Dragonfire will do. Although destructive, it's magic is capable of turning anything with a hint of our kind's blood into a full-fledged dragon. It's just a very rare thing to have happen."

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#, as written by Ikiros
The brown dragon looked from one to the other. He couldn't understand why they would choose to remain as they were, rather than be one of the top creatures ever created by Nature's forge.

"I respect that, though your choice confuses me all the more." He turned to Reiku. "And no, it's far from impossible. Much like a dying fire, half dragon's possess that which makes a dragon what it is. Some have more than others, but every half breed that hold dragon's blood in their veins has it, though, as you pointed out, it varies with the breed of dragon involved. With the proper magic, it is quite possible to find the form which that blood yearns to hold. A little coaxing and, like putting fuel onto a fire, the shape will flare of its own accord."

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#, as written by Ikiros
"Actually, Lady Reiku, he would be very much who he is. His body would change, yes, but he would have the option to return to his current state, if and when he chose. I cannot do so, but not because I lack the ability. I simply have yet to find a form appealing enough to shift into. Many dragons, at least those that I know, choose to take on the forms of prey, that way they can hunt more easily. I simply never chose to take a new form for convenience and because of my pride."

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The brown dragon turned to look into the fire in the hearth, unsure of what to do. He could take this chance to gain a form that would render him innocuous among the humans, but could he live with it? Could he, a dragon or pure blood and true heart, lower himself to the level of a two-legs? He mulled the thought over in his head for another moment of so before deciding.

Without looking back, the dragon's form began to fall away, his body simply disintegrating into what looked like sand falling off a steep surface. It flowed off in all directions, simply vanishing where it touched the floor, and after just a second or two, where once had laid a dragon stood a rather smartly dressed man, his green eyes bright and his brown hair shaggy.

"Better?" he asked, though when he spoke it was still in the tongue of the dragons, and sounded like nothing more than he was choking.

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#, as written by Ikiros
"No," he growled. "I will stay down here. There...There is business to be taken care of." He looked over at the TNG Officers, as well as those who'd been in combat. With a sounds like stones grating against one another, his human form cracked and fell away like clay, revealing his much larger draconic form.

He stood and approached the officers, his scales glittering darkly under the bar's lights and his maw halfway open, a growl echoing up from his chest.

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#, as written by Ikiros
Faran'nok, unfortunately, understood nothing of what the marines were saying to him. He'd originally come over to air them, but as the two troopers approached him, weapons drawn, he hissed and pulled his head backwards and up, brushing the rafters.

"You are fools," he said in Draconic. "I come to your aid, not to your harm." He began to open his wings, only to have the bump the walls, so vast did they stretch.

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#, as written by Ikiros
The sudden response, and subsequent lack of marines near him, was enough for the dragon to realize that he was accepted. He turned, then, and looked at those who had attacked the uniformed men. He opened his mouth and let loose a primal bellow, letting it resound through the room. It was as simple a challenge as could be made, and as a follow-up to it, he belched forth a wave of emerald flames, not really aiming them so much as spreading them.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Solinus Sea Coastline

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#, as written by Ikiros
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