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"Dragons. Walking gold mines."

0 · 232 views · located in Hüngarth

a character in “The Riders' Ascension”, as played by Boomstick


Alias: Karvoth



Now why would you want to know that?

Conner Shor


Far younger then I look and far older then I feel.



.. I am just going to ignore this question.



Technically, I am apart of the Foresworn, but really they just pay well. Have you seen how much a dragon claw goes for?

Assassin for the Foresworn


Does it matter? They all bleed.


Description / Appearance:

I would hope your eyes would do the work for you, but if I had to say... You would walk by me on the street without sparing me a second glance.

Karvoth is an average man in almost all aspects. He stands at 6ft and has an 'average' build that consist of large shoulders and a thin waist. His muscle build is what you would expect from a man who swings a blade all day as he is definitively not one of those 'lean but with muscles' that some people pretend to be. He has powerful arms, while they do not bulge and tear clothing, he can hold his own against most other men, assuming that it is indeed a man and not an ogre or some other monstrously powerful creature. His auburn hair is long having down to his shoulders and the bangs dangle before his face reaching down to his chin. His hair is unkempt as he does not take any special effort to brush it and usually just cuts it with a dagger when it gets too long. His eyes are a deep brown... nothing special.


Simple. I am a working man. People pay me gold to... acquire goods or end peoples lives, and I am quite good at doing both. Don't take it personal, its just business.

Karvoth is a man running form his past and doing the only thing he knows how to do to stay alive: Kill. He is a proud man as he has fought hard for his reputation and believes he has rightfully earned his current position in getting fat off of some little dragon tokens. Karvoth is condescending towards others as he views himself as superior to them in every way, but also it is a defense mechanism that allows him to keep others at arms length because you never know when you may someday have to kill them... and life is simpler when one is alone. He is not above lashing out at others who attempt to get close to him, but few try as he is not the type to truly arouse interest. It is fair to say that Karvoth is a man that values his secrets, but he is not a silent man. Karvoth loves to make his opinion known if its taunting another or simply making an observation; he loves the sound of his own voice, but then, he never allows himself to truly talk to others, so talking to himself is his only real option.

Short History:

Son of a bitch, er, prostitute, but really is there a difference?

Karvoth was born in the small village of Torsono to the village prostitute Sherry Shor. He had no idea who his father is and doubted his mother did either. Because he was the son of a whore, women in the village hated him for they all feared that their men were sleeping with his mother, in turn the men hated him to convince their wives that they never even spoke to Sherry. While the adults never did anything to him; it did not stop their hatred from being transferred to their kids. They would laugh and beat on him. Beat on the poor, dirty kid who played with himself by drawing pictures in the sand alone.

Karvoth hated himself as well. Everyone else hated him, so logic dictated that something had to be wrong with him as well, and no matter how much his mother said that he was her 'special boy' the feeling remained, but besides that was a new feeling. One of loathing. It was his mothers fault. If she weren't a prostitute the kids wouldn't hurt him. They would like him, and he could finally have friends... In truth, this was just a way for a scared and hurt child to pass the blame onto another person.

When he was 12, his mother gave birth to his sister; Lori. How karvoth adored her because finally he had someone to talk to. Someone he could play with, and he loved her more then any other in the world. It no longer bothered him that everyone else in the world despised him because Lori.. she loved him. The villager kids hatred was transferred to Lori too, but Karvoth never let them touch her even if he had to sacrificing himself; he always promised to protect her. Until the day they came. Soldiers broke into their small shack and murdered Sherry, Karvoth tried to run with his sister, now five, but a soldier grabbed the girls hand, and instead of fighting. Instead of trying to help his sister. He let go of her hand and ran. He abandoned her to her death. The look on her face when he let go... and her scream that followed still haunt him.

Karvoth wandered the forest for a time becoming a bandit attacking travelers for food, this time is a blur for him as he was more of a husk then a man at the time. Life was a daze, he eventually joined a nations military where he was taught formal fighting, but found the life of orders to be... not for someone of his taste. He became a mercenary fighting for gold, gold to buy food, women, and drink. He cast away his old name in order to take an Alias that would allow his reputation to grow: Karvoth. A name that became well known in the underworld, well known enough that a group calling themselves the Foresworn approached him and offered him a job. A well paying job. That was six years ago. While not the most loyal of assassins, Karvoth is one of their deadliest.

Power: None.

Weapon of Choice: Two longswords he keeps tied to his back.


So begins...

Karvoth's Story


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It had been a long journey through the forest. The storm and rain made the trip miserable as each thunder roar had nearly spooked his horse into sprinting for cover. The torch, he had been using for the most of the journey, he had ditched as the rain kept putting it out, and his patience had ran out as well. Karvoth mused on the situation. He had been in the east fighting in the wars for coin, and earning more then a few when a boy ran to him with a missive. One bearing the mark of the dragon, of the Foresworn. It contained only the location of where he was to go, and he had to admit, he respected the amount of cloak and dagger the Foresworn used.

The forest contained many things, and awhile back, he could have sworn to see light coming from within a cave, but decided that whatever, or whoever, was in there was not a concern of his. His thoughts were returned to the present when he saw it. The large tower stretching out above the trees and into the sky.

The decrepit stone tower stuck out like a sore thumb within the canopies of the evergreen forest, but that was probably its purpose. The rain crushing through the leaves and pines of the trees made it difficult to hear the sound of the forest, but despite this Karvoth was still able to make out the slight rustling of a bush, but did not stop to gaze at it because he had more pressing matters. The storm gave the tower a rather grim appearance as it bathed it in darkness as the thunder roared above, but then, it was always some ominous or grim place.

With a deep breath, Karvoth approached the great door to the tower. Unlike the tower itself, the door was well maintained; fashions from solid oak with great metal studs reinforcing it. At the center sat a great steel dragon head, its mouth open and fangs bare. Above its head, strange emblems were carved; ເອົາແຂ້ວເລ່ືອແລະການພົວພັນຊຶ່ງປ້ອນຂອງທ່ານ. Karvoth let his hand run over the etched lettings mumbling something under his breath about old men and their secrets. Taking a moment to pray to whatever gods cared enough to listen, he slowly stuck his hand inside the dragons mouth and grasped the back fang. He paused for a moment, before pulling on it and yanking it out.

A great snapping sound echoed in the forest as the doors locking mechanism was released, and the door slowly slid forward with a long creak. The smell of decay and stagnation was almost enough to have him choking. Almost, but when you have smelt death on a massive scale as he had, few things could truly compare. A faint light came from as flickering torches were hanging from the wall, and above a great stair that descended down into the abyss below. Pausing to look back at the raining forest; he entered the dark portal.

Karvoth did find the tower to be pleasantly warm, and he did manage to take the time to examine the back of the door and saw that he could shut the door and place the fang back to re-lock it, but chose to leave it open. He pocked the metal fang after hearing another rustle in the bushes. Karvoth reached up and threw off his hood, letting his long brown hair fall out. It gave him a sense of comfort from the familiar action, and as he descended the stairs, he rubbed his hands trying to will them to warm up beneath the leather gloves.

It was a long walk as the stairs were incredibly long, but he did not hesitate as he pushed open the wooden door at the base to the bright room beyond. Karvoth had to put his hand over his eyes as the sheer amount of light blinded him for a second before receding away to reveal a robed man sitting at a table. The candles in the room flickered and danced, and from the amount of melted wax at their base, Karvoth assumed the man had been here for quite some time. His eyes slid over the rest of the room from the rows upon rows of dusty tomes to the cobwebs that hung from the unlit chandelier that dangled dangerously loose over the table.

The robed man began to cough violently, but through the coughs; he waved Karvoth forward and managed to crook out, "Come sit. I don't have all day."

"I doubt you have any time at all left in you." Karvoth said dryly, but did as the man bid him to and approached the table ignoring the way the man tried to cough and laugh at the same time. Despite the seemingly sick nature of the man, Karvoth kept his hand on the hilt of his bleed. There was one rule to staying alive in his line of the work: Believe everyone wants you dead.

Seeing the man not take any threatening movements, Karvoth lowered himself into his seat and finally got a good look at the man. Beneath his hood showed an ancient man with a wisp of hair dangling from his head, if Karvoth had to describe his features, it would be if a crow suddenly took on the appearance of a dried plum. The golden dragon claw hanging from the old mans neck told Karvoth all he needed to know.

"Keeper." Karvoth acknowledged. He was surprised that the Keeper himself was here as he was the 'loremaster' of the Foresworn. The record keeper and 'all knowing' man. Till this moment, Karvoth believed him to be more of a myth then a man.

"If you are quite done worshiping the ground I walk on. Lets get down to business." The old man said gruffly, Karvoth was about to point out that there was no worshiping going on as why bow to someone that looked like an old rug? But he was cut off, "I assume you know why you are here?"

Karvoth leaned back in his chair, "Of course." Dragons. Another one had been born, and they were gathering members of the Foresworn to hunt it down.

The old man's hand shook as another series of coughs threatened to overwhelm him, but Karvoth did not rise or offer to help; instead he simply watched and waited.

"Yes. More of them has been born." The old man said confirming the fact in his mind, the knowledge left Karvoth a little bewildered. Them? In his six years, only once did two dragons be born in a short period of time.

"Seven." The old man said in a whisper.

"Seven.." Karvoth said, before shaking his head, "But. That's not possible." There were simply not enough dragons left for so many to be born at once, and he did not like it at all. Such a thing was a bad omen. He was not a superstitious man, but this sent the hairs on his neck standing.

"I have never seen it before either." The keeper confirmed, "But It assures us that, indeed, seven have been born." It. The Foresworns reliable source of information on the birthing of dragons was in fact a dragon itself. An ancient dragon, but Karvoth did not trust dragons nor their riders, "You are sure?" He asked once more.

"Of course I am!" The keeper barked, "Do you think I would be sitting with a half-wit like you if I wasn't sure?"

"Point taken." Karvoth conceded leaning back in his chair and letting his mind race. So many dargons. So much gold waiting, but also so many Riders he would have to deal with. He had fought many, and they always had strange powers, but despite that. He had yet to fail.

"I don't suppose you have any idea as to where they might be?" Karvoth asked, but the keeper shook his head, "If I knew that, then I wouldn't need you would I?"

Karvoth shook his head, the ancient dragon could tell them when a dragon was born and even give them a general area, but never precise locations, but then, if it did there would be little need for people such as him. Perhaps it was a silver lining.

"It did tell us that many were born along this mountain and forest range." The Keeper said pointing to the map on the table, and Karvoth did not fail to notice they were inside the forest, "I see." He said softly. That was why he was called here. He had little doubt that all the foresworn were being called it. Given that so many dragons had awoken; they would need as many as possible to cover the ground, but it would be a long process. The world was large, and trying to find seven people inside such a large world was near impossible.

The floor creaked above, and the Keepers eyes shot up, "What was that? Did you lock the door?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

"Must have slipped my mind." Karvoth said dismissively, but did lower his hand to the hilt of his sword.


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The Keeper opened his mouth to say something, but a scuffing noise pierced the silence, its noise amplified by the men's over-attentive state. Karvoth brought his fingers to his lips to motion for the old man to hold his tongue, before sliding out of his chair and creeping to the oak door and pressing his eye to the stone wall. He could make out the pats as a feet descended the steps growing louder as time went until and then silence. Karvoth slowly loosened the hilt of his blade, and kicked the oak door open sending it slamming into whatever was behind it with enough force to knock a grown man down. The thud of the door smacking into whatever was behind the door was followed by a painful yelp, and the thudding of feet against stairs as whatever it was tried to flee.

Karvoth drew one his blade and sprung into the hallway ready to cut down whatever was in there, only to see the frame of a coyote running for the door. With a grunt, he stood in the doorway watching to see if it was going to come back. When he saw nothing, he sheathed the battered and nicked blade and went back into the room, closing the oak door once more. "Coyote." Karvoth said simply for the Keepers benefit.

"Hn." The keeper said to himself, as if thinking about something, but Karvoth's mind was also wondering. Why did a Coyote follow him? They were generally cowardly creatures and wouldn't attack unless the opponent was small, and they had superior numbers. It was odd. "No matter." The keeper said shaking his head to dispel whatever thoughts he had, "Sit back down." He commanded, and Karvoth obeyed returning to his seat.

"So." Karvoth said, "How many have you marshaled?"

"Nearly everyone." The Keeper said fighting back another fit of coughs, "We want to make sure we get them all."

Karvoth leaned back in the chair thinking over the situation; he hated when they summoned so many of his 'brothers'. More competition meant less dragons for him which meant less gold. The rest of the Foresworn were incompetent as it was, but then again, everyone was incompetent. Karvoth eyed the Keeper unsure of what 'type' of Foresworn he was. In his experience, members of the Foresworn came from three categories: Sellswords, Blood seekers, and idealist. Sellswords were like him; they hunted dragons for the gold. They didn't know or care about the dragons for why should they? They were just large lizards walking around with little boys and girls who thought that having them and a little bit of power made them worth a damn.

Idealist were, well, idealist. They believed that dragons had to be kept from the world to 'preserve' the balance of power. Dragon Riders upset the natural order of things, so they said, as they attempted to wrestle power from the kingdoms and watch over everything as 'keepers of peace', but who watched them? Karvoth was betting that the Keeper was one of these lot.

And finally, the type he hated the most. Blood Seekers. Sad little boys and girls who had their parents killed by dragons or riders. They committed their lives to vengeance or some other foolish notion. Honestly, he wouldn't mind if they weren't so annoyingly morbid about it. Karvoth snapped out of his world and back into reality when the Keeper coughed to get his attention, "You say something?" Karvoth asked, but he was sure he did. Old men never shut their mouths.

"Yes." The Keeper said shaking his head and Karvoth got the feeling that a sailor would be blushing right now if he could read minds, "What is your plan?" He asked.

Karvoth raised an eyebrow, he hated giving out his plans as what stopped the old geezer from telling another Foresworn? But then, his plan was a fairly simple one. "Once the storm ends." Karvoth said, leaning over the map and point his finger at the various villages around the forest, "I am going to go on a little..." He stopped trying to find the right word, "Tour."

"When people find dragons; they tend to act rather strangely. It shouldn't be too hard to find out from the locals which of them has been doing so. I pay them a visit, a little blood is shed, a few threats are thrown around, and we have ourselves a dragon rider." Karvoth finished.

"Locals." The keeper scoffed, "You mean whores."

Karvoth gave a slight shrug, "And beggars. And drunks. Never forget the drunks. They are more observant then they realize." He was curious as to who found the eggs this time; he was hoping it wasn't a bunch of kids because they were always so persistent and annoying. Dragon riders this, and destiny that. Truly, it made him sick. Killing them was not satisfying as they were also so pathetic; Perhaps he would get lucky and an adult, or better yet, a warrior found the eggs. Maybe then he would enjoy the hunt.

"Well? What are you doing here still?" The Keeper demanded, Karvoth did notice the hint of anxiety in his voice, perhaps there were meant to be more Foresworn here besides him? And having him here would make the situation... unpleasant, "I am not going anywhere until the storm ends." Karvoth said firmly. The keeper was about to say something, but decided against it, and Karvoth had a feeling this is how his day would be spent. Staring at a dying old man, waiting for the rain to stop.