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Nyxmel

"Don't exhibit your vanity by questioning me. Really, just save yourself the trouble."

0 · 157 views · located in The Adventurers Journey

a character in “The Scroll of Creation”, as played by The(Doctor)Horrible

Description

Name: Nyxmel
Gender: Male
Race: Dragon
Age: 176
Race Description: The mighty dragons have always been revered as powerful, wise creatures, if a bit prideful at times. They lived in clans, multiple families banding together to live in one community. They varied in size from small, three family groups to thriving cities filled with the magnificent creatures. They tended to prefer living in nature, or at least near to it, to relish it's beauty and hunt for food. The clans were led by a GuiderDragon, a dragon chosen by the clan to lead them should any problems arise.

In the past few centuries, the dragons have dissappeared. Other races had discovered that the parts of the once revered race were useful in a wide array of scenarios and tools, so they were hunted down, clans raided and dragon after dragon mindlessly slaughtered. Rumors spread of the savage nature of the dragons to silence those who spoke in their favor and gain market for the spoils of the creatures. The Life War, as the dragons named it. Clans left their homes and moved far away, never to be seen or heard of again. The rumors stayed of the stereotypical savage dragon, but they were still feared for their ferocity. They have been degraded to little more than a fairy tale.They still live in secret, though, small as their numbers are. The race struggled to survive, having not the resources nor morale they once did.

The race's rumoured appearance involves a quadruped reptile with a long scaly tail, bat-like wings, fire-breath and a long snouted head full of sharp teeth, but some of this isn't true. Certainly it isn't everything
Personality: To be discovered in due time...
Equipment: Leather bracers for legs, wing ribbing, and tail. He carries a large brown leather bag over his shoulders which hides the cargo inside (dragon sword, various travel necessities and medicines)
Appearance: Not shown: Nyxmel is a midnight-black dragon with a scruffy deep purple ridge along his spine, and dark-blue belly scales. His wings are massive and batlike, webbing starting at a deep purple gradiating to deep blue and then ivory in the center. His horns, talons, and faceplate are ivory colored, along with the tail head and spikes at the end of his long, lithe, muscular tail. He is 20 feet tall from the ground to the top of his head and 44 feel from nose to tailtip. His wings are the same as his entire size when extended, but fold to fit on his sides neatly. His faceplate is shown in the picture, smooth and stretched down over the cheekbones. He is quadruped with his front feet having four fingers and a thumb, back feet having simply four toes. He is sleek, thin, and streamlined for precision flight. Most striking are his eyes, emerald green and gleaming in the sun, slitted pupils hide cunning and vitality. In the moonlight they shift to an electric blue.
Your wish: To bring the dragons back to their former glory and peace
History: Nyxmel was hatched into a clan that was on the verge of dying out. Shaman dragons, as Nyxmel was hatched as, are revered in the culture, being few and far between. The GuiderDragon had made the hard decision of diverting what little food they had to him and his parents so they would have the best chance to survive. The clan agreed, too tired to do anything less, and one by one died. The GuiderDragon flew off the day after his decision, and Nyxmel hasn't seen him since. His parents instilled the values of peace, knowledge, and wit, plus the moral of violence should be avoided unless absolutely necessary, into him at a young age. Once the food had run out, his parents knew what they had to do. The nearest clan was miles off, but their son had the best chance for survival there. The set off, bringing only the father's sword, passed down through generations, and some travel necessities. Nyxmel was still unable to fly, being only around a year old. On the way, his parents hid their pain and the nature of the trip from the young hatchling, instead making it out to be a game. Nyxmel's mother taught him what herbs were good for what uses, and what was edible should he be unable to hunt. She taught him of the Sun and Moon, and the culture of the dragons.

They reached the verge of the clan late at night a week later. Nearly there, Nyxmel's father lost altitude from malnutrition, fainted, and crashed to the forest floor. He died upon impact. The hatchling didn't see what happened, and was told that Father was looking for herbs. His mother took the dragon sword, strapped it to her own back, and walked the rest of the distance to the clan, not daring to fly in her weakened state. An elderly dragon was out for a walk and found the two. The mother was losing her strength fast, and she relayed quick instructions to the ElderDragon. Nyxmel needed a home and to be brought up properly. The ElderDragon agreed upon seeing the Shaman hatchling and raised him as his "grandson" with his wife.

Years later, Nyxmel had matured into a fine young adult (thirty-ish human equivalent). He had learned of the history of the Life War, and the culture of the dragons. He hated the cruel treatment of the past, hate for the events always lingering inside him. However, he never partook in fights, remembering the values his mother had taught him. Often he would walk in the woods by himself, just thinking or planning. One night, in a dream, a ghostly female dragon that seemed vaguely familiar told him of the Scroll. When he awoke, he knew it had been his mother, and vowed to find it. He packed up his things, sword of his father included, and left with brief goodbyes to his "grandparents."

So begins...

Nyxmel's Story

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Character Portrait: Hima Ishiigawa Character Portrait: Nyxmel
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Nyxmel crept along through the scrubby underbrush of the forest cautiously. He was painfully aware of the crackling of twigs, the clanking of his sword agains provisions, and all the other sounds he inevitably made while "sneaking" along. It was no use, everything was just too crowded. A dragon was used to more open-ness, less weaving. At least he was. Mum had always said the forest was her favorite place to go... Mum...

The black dragon cast his emerald eyes to the sky in a silent prayer that he may please her spirit. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't be in this wretched area. This terrifying area. The fear hit him in the stomach again, cold and slithery like a chilled snake. He was in human territory now. The smell of the legendary beasts swam in his active nostrils, the scent of leather and sweat, among other less pleasant things. He glanced around fearfully, but forced a poker face back on. He was a dragon, one of the mightiest of races... But could he stand up to these beings? Only lore spoke of them, tiny, pale, but banded together in huge clans. They wielded enchanted weapons designed for the slaughter of dragonkind, just for their bodies and nothing else. For survival was one thing, but they did this for wealth and sport. Nyxmel growled deep in his chest despite his best efforts to be silent at the indignity. The Great Race forced to the edge of extinction...

A noise far off caught his attention and yanked him from his thoughts. Crackling, breaking. Smoke tinged the air from wherever the source was. Fire, something wooden burning. His heart soared. Finally, a lead! He had been travelling for days upon weeks trying to find some sign. This was it. Mum had said, "The fire come not from dragons," and this smoke had nowhere near the scent of dragon fire. His slitted pupils narrowed in caution as he approached the source slowly through the trees. Who knew what was there... Humans, perhaps, looking to ambush him...

'Quit acting like a hatchling, Nyx!!' he scolded in his own mind. 'You're a bloody dragon, for stars' sake!! The Great Race!! Your mission is to save them. Only you. For... For Mum.'

Courage filled the gap of fear. He walked more confidently, chest puffed and every sense on alert. The trees began to taper off until he could see where the fire and smoke had originated from. There it was, piles of timber and flaming ash. Just like Mum had said. He approached cautiously while sniffing the air discretely for any signs of humans... The area reeked of it. They lived here, there would be no way for him to distinguish live from dead, old from recent.

However, motion was always a sign of life. There, before him and a bit to the left, was what he assumed to be a human. It had long brown... stringy scales that issued from its head and odd proportions. It looked frail, but he knew better than to mistake it as anything but what it was: a killer. It was the only living thing in this area. Fury began to rise in him, unbearable rage for what this race had done to his, and what this individual had done to a town. The anger took control, and without any will of his own he roared a challenge to the human in the road. The sound was deafening and terrifying. How'd it like to see a creature of their own legend standing and fighting on its own?

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Hima

Hima sits finishing off the last piece of meat she found in the village and ponders what sort of people could do this to a whole village. If the slaughter of every man, woman and child in the village was really over the map she placed in her pouch then it is a map well worth protecting; not just for it's potential value in finding and selling the scroll to some wizard or noble, but also in keeping it out of the hands of whoever did this. If they're willing to torture and murder a village to get this map then they're not good people and definitely shouldn't have this map under any circumstances.

Her concentration is disrupted by something going on around her. She hasn't heard anything specific, but she is sure that someone or something is nearby. She sits listening for several seconds, but nothing, "Must be the night and the village." she reasons. Then from behind her a sudden loud and threatening sound bellows as if an explosion or a herd of angry elephants were nearby.

Hima rolls over from sitting position onto her hands and knees. Her eyes widen, her mouth hangs agape, the color drains from her face as her heart begins pounding in fear, "A...a...a dragon?!" Hima has heard tales of dragons, but always considered them to be fantasy stories used to scare little children into behaving. She has never for one second considered the stories true. But there one stands, at least she it matches the descriptions she's seen in paintings and what people have said they look like; the giant black creature with the purple spine and green eyes is testimony to the stories truth. Now it all makes perfect sense, the realization of what has happened to the village and its inhabitants now makes perfect sense. This black creature with a purple spine roaring and making threatening gestures killed all these people and then burned the village.
Hima reaches around grasping her bag in one hand and her rapier in the other. Her sword will never be a match for this giant creature and she has no intention of trying to prove herself wrong. She will only use the sword if forced to, which she is hoping is never. She slides her body backward, resting on her heels, raising her hand to signal to the dragon not to attack her, "S...suh...suh...steady..." she stammers trying to give the dragon no fear, no cause to attack her. She has heard that dragons, many dragons, understand human tongue and some even can use it and she's hoping those stories are true and this dragon is one of them. "Steady there. Look...uh..look. I'm... I'm not even... even from the village." she says slowly rising and moving backward, again trying to avoid making any unnecessary movements. "I... I don't know what they did to make... you know... make you angry." she slowly steps backward, "But, look. I'm not one of them and I'm sure whatever they did... you know... you... you were justified in being angry."

She glances left and right out of the corners of her eyes. There is no woodlands, no high grass, no fields that she can dash into for protection. Her options are limited to two things; 1. She could dart behind one of the burned out buildings and hope that he doesn't torch the place and her with it; or 2. Try and reason with it in hopes that it doesn't slaughter her for fun. She has decided one thing, she's not giving him the map he's looking for, these people died protecting it and she owes the old woman that.

Hima slowly lowers her sword and drops her bag. If he attacks, she will run and try to get a stag to the gut or throat, if she can get that close or that high. "Look... whatever happened here... whatever they did to you... I'm... I'm not part of. I'm ju... just... you know, uh... passing through. And I uh... you know... Don't kill me, please. I won't tell anyone about you. I promise."

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Character Portrait: Hima Ishiigawa Character Portrait: Nyxmel
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The fury bubbled deep in Nyxmel's chest as he stared at the pitiful being. When he roared, the human rolled to all fours, but the awkwardness of the position meant that they were obviously bipedal. The creature's brown eyes widened in fear, well as they should. Pride began to push out the fury, but he was determined to deal with this murderer. Even if humans were the bane of the dragons' existance, mass homicide was never an option. His mother had taught him to respect all life, and only to take it when necessary.

The thing put up a "hand" then. Instinctively, Nyxmel tensed to take a step backwards. What was it doing? Was it going to use magic? Shoot out hidden blades? Instead, it spoke in a soft voice laden with fear, "S...suh...suh...steady... Steady there. Look...uh..look. I'm... I'm not even... even from the village," said the pale creature as it slowly began to back away from him. The anger drained from his chest as he stared at the fragile-looking thing moving away. He could understand it! Nyxmel had always figured that the centuries old texts from back home would never have held up the language, but he had learned it anyway, seeing as how the history of the Life War was so intriguing. It was... scared. But why did she reiterate what he already knew? Obviously she wasn't from the village, or she wouldn't have reason to burn it down.

"I... I don't know what they did to make... you know... make you angry. But, look. I'm not one of them and I'm sure whatever they did... you know... you... you were justified in being angry."

He understood then. His tail drooped and his mouth hung slightly agape. All anger left him. How could this one human have burned down an entire village without a band? Didn't they travel in clans, or packs, or flocks or something? Guilt gnawed at his heart for leaping to a conclusion too quickly. It thought that he was the one who had done this. Nyxmel cast a glance about at the heaps of smoldering rubble. His mind fought back to his lessons, the awkward tongue rolls and nasal usage. Human speech was cool to learn, but Draconic was much easier. "Y... You think I did this?" The words came in a baritone with a thick accent, something of a mixture between Russian and British. Every k had an h at the end, and the vowels were very odd, along with other differences from regular speech. "Why would I do this? I came here to look for something of my mother's, not to kill... I thought..." he paused as he hid his eyes under the ivory faceplate's shadows, "I thought it had been you..."

He looked back up at her and approached slowly. "I mean you no harm." Slowly, he reached onto his back, snagged the leather bag rolled over his shoulders, and dropped it to the ground.

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Hima

Hima continues backing away, while still hopeful of an escape from this situation she is accepting of what her fate most likely is; that thing that destroyed this village is about to do the same thing to her and there's little she can do to prevent it. Smalls tears well up in her eyes at the thought she will be dead at such a young age. "At least," she reasons, "At least, it's been an exciting life. I haven't died as some stupid farmer living a life of toil or some one whose whole life has been one of subservience. I have seen and done a lot. And, there are worse things than being killed by the breath of a dragon."

She shakes that thought out of her head. She's not dead yet and she's not ready to commit to defeat without a struggle, even a futile one. She looks left and right and then behind one last time trying to chart out an escape. Seeing none she turns back toward the dragon, but rather than facing the fearsome, angered, god-like creature that she saw merely seconds ago, the dragon has dropped its tail and is staring at her with an oddly confused expression.

"Y... You think I did this?" the creature asks in a deep, rich tone that matches it's size. "Why would I do this? I came here to look for something of my mother's, not to kill... I thought... I thought it had been you..." the dragon says, not in an accusatory manner, but rather in an 'I was thinking the same thing as you.' one.
Hima stares the creature up and down, not sure what to make of this turn of events. She resists the reflex to say, "Because you're a dragon." when he asks why he would kill all these people and torch the village. The tension in her body eases a little, but she isn't dropping her guard. "Dragons are wily and smart." she is sure of that, "He could be trying to get me to drop my guard and then take me." That thought seems almost stupid as she thinks about it. "He's much bigger and stronger than me and he flies. Lulling me, a 15 year old human girl as a distraction would be unnecessary."

She jumps a step back as he grabs his bag and drops it on the ground. Hima relaxes herself a bit more. She bends down and reaches for her bag, never taking her eyes off the fearsome dragon. She decides to avoid her rapier, "No sense in upsetting him at this moment. He isn't acting menacing. Why give him cause?"
She holds her bag tightly against her chest with two hands, "S...S...So." she stutters. "Why are you... I mean what do you... you want?" She has heard many stories about dragons, but they were always from someone who knew someone, whose friend had a cousin... story, never from someone who has actually seen a dragon. As unreliable as all the stories may be, every story has a small kernel of truth to it.
"Are... are you... you looking for something?" she thinks she already knows the answer, he most likely wants the scroll, but she's hopeful it's something else. She doesn't know what magical powers he possesses and if he can detect lie she's gonna get caught. "I mean, if you... if I can help you... you know. I'll help if I can." she says swallowing as hard as she can, her mouth practically bone dry.

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Her discomfort saddened him, yet he was satisfied that she was frightened. The conflicting emotions warred within him as he decided how much to tell the girl. Her backwards odyssey didn't go unnoticed. He moved forwards slowly, slowly. Each movement was exaggerated to show he meant no harm, each claw turned palm up to show he was unarmed. "I'm searching for something my Mo-- ... I'm searching for something on a hunch." He winced at his near blunder. He still didn't know how dangerous this thing was even without its horde. It could be bluffing for all he knew.

However, it seemed sincere, either through honor or terror, when it asked if it could help him. Skepticism was a skill taught to him through a hard hatchlinghood no matter how rude. He knew it would prove invaluable in this quest, though...

He had no other leads. The fire was told to lead him to truth.

He sighed and shut his emerald eyes, tail drooped with grief. "I'm here looking for something my Mother sent me to find," he confided softly, "She came all the way from the Spirit World in a dream. The "Scroll of Creation." I won't tell you what for, or why, because I do not yet know myself. However, this was the first and last thing she told me. 'Find the fire to seek the truth.'" Grief-ridden tears sparkled behind the ivory faceplate before he quickly swiped at them in fury. He was weak before the creature, it would be able to tell and strike him down. Nyxmel replaced his stern countenance and waited for the human's move.

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HIMA

Hima backs away slightly with every step he takes. She can tell there is something bothering him, but she isn't sure exactly what in happening in his mind. If he's feeling hungry, she is sure she will surely be his dinner; after-all, he is a dragon and she is human - dragons eat humans, that's what she's always been told. It's the reason why people were forced to chase them from their mountain dwellings; not because people wanted to, but because dragons gave them no choice.
It's the bag she is intrigued by, "Why did he drop it? What secrets does it possess?"
"I'm searching for something my Mo-- ... I'm searching for something on a hunch." the creature said, gearing its paws as a sign of something, "Maybe it's a sign to show he means no harm? Maybe he's preparing to cast special dragon magic?" she isn't sure. She's curious as to what he's looking for and whatever it is, it has something to do with whatever he stopped saying mid-sentence.

Finally the giant creature dropped all show of menace and power, dropping his head and tail, "I'm here looking for something my Mother sent me to find. She came all the way from the Spirit World in a dream. The "Scroll of Creation." I won't tell you what for, or why, because I do not yet know myself. However, this was the first and last thing she told me. 'Find the fire to seek the truth.'"

"The Scroll of Creation?! she cringes both in her mind and body, but saying nothing verbally about it. "Why does it have to be the scroll." she ponders the scroll for several seconds, "Maybe he does have something to do with the village. But why is he playing this infernal game if he did? He could easily take me apart to get the information he seeks." Hima's internal debate jumps between belief that he is telling the truth and her naturally suspicious nature.

His tears seems genuine and he does seem desperate. Finally, after what seems an eternity, her internal debate, the uncertainty she feels has been decided. "If you want my help, I'll be happy to give it. You look like you could use a companion on your journey and maybe I can be of service to you." She has decided not to show him her piece of the map yet, at least not before morning. Hima lives for the adventure and what could be more adventurous than traveling with a dragon looking for something that she has a piece of the map of.
As she looked at the map while sitting on the ground eating, it had become crystal clear to her, that she lacked the whole map, rather she had been given part of it; which would make sense as a map this valuable would be dangerous in the hands of one person. She felt slightly guilty not sharing her knowledge with the desperate creature, but safety comes first.

"I believe you didn't do this. The damage is too... too... well, too amateur to have been done by someone like you. Besides, when I was in the forest, hiding in the trees, I saw a large duo-coach procession heading through away from this town. Maybe they had something to do with what happened. Maybe they know about your map."
She ponders the ramifications of what she had just told him; First, she is withholding information from him, something that, if he figures it out could create trouble for her down the line; Second, if he decides that group knows something, he may choose to ruthlessly wipe them out. But if they did this, they deserve it, she reasons; and Third, she's tying her fortunes to a dragon, who in the end may kill her anyway.
But since he might kill her if she says 'No,' she's better off being his friend for now.
"If you want, I'll go with you. But I'm tired," she yawns and stretches. "I need some sleep."

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Character Portrait: Hima Ishiigawa Character Portrait: Nyxmel
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(Confound it all, I lost five paragraphs of good stuff)
Her discomfort filled him with guilt. Nyxmel hated to hurt anyone or thing... even his race's mortal enemy. Her deliberation lasted a few seconds before she surprised him with an offer of comeradierie. Skepticism narrowed his slitted pupils as he angled his head to see her better with one eye while keeping the other trained on his bag. Her interest in it was apparent and dissettling.

She then made a huge blunder. "I believe you didn't do this. The damage is too... too... well, too amateur to have been done by someone like you."

Fury bubbled in the dragon's chest involuntarily. Instinctive rage led him to an aggressive crouch on his front claws, teeth bared and a snarl hissing through his maw. He cursed in a language that resembled a rich, animalistic German, beautiful and feral, before switching to English. "Someone like me?! What in the bowels of the mountains could you possibly even begin to think you know about me? I was raised to respect all life and to give respect to every living being unless directly threatened! You puny, pale rats were the ones who mindlessly slaughtered my race for our teeth and tongues, hatchlings, elders, eggs, all dead and brutalized for market!! We were forced to flee for our lives, the mighty dragons of lore degraded to migrants!!"

He then realized what he was doing. Smoke drifted from his nostrils as flame burned ready in his chest. The human stood before him, small and terrified. 'All life is important, even those who have reason to be punished. Respect all, love all, and remeber who you are.' His mother's last words before he was taken from her in the forest. A hurt hatchling, confused and hungry...

Nyxmel blinked a few times and stood to return to his bag. A glance to the sky showed him the time. "Sleep now. We shall move in the morning." He sat near his bundle and watched her with gleaming emerald eyes to await her slumber.

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Hima

His fury catches Hima totally by surprise, "I didn't uh..." is all she can get out. His anger has him speaking in a tongue that she isn't familiar with before he returning to one that she does understand.

"Someone like me?!..." his anger causes her to fall backwards landing on her rear trying desperately to scoot away. As he rages in anger.
Hima's faces twinges in panic, her breath hiccuping from her mouth, her head flailing left-and-right then back to center, all she can muster is a series of broken words and phrases, "I'm so... I didn...uh...I'm... No..." She continues scooting back into an obelisk that she climbs against wobbling to her feet. This is the second misunderstanding they've had and she's sure this could easily be the last time.

Finally, the creature ceases his angered fury at her. She watches, frightened and awed by the creature as a few final puffs of smoke flare from his nostrils. "Sleep now. We shall move in the morning."

Hima hesitantly leans toward her bag, crying as she picks it up. She never meant it as an insult, nor did she think he was some sort of mindless, sociopathic assassin. She opens her mouth for a brief second to explain herself, but decides against it. She decides it best not to take a chance on infuriating him again. Taking her bag, still crying, she drops her daggers on the road and slogs away to the other side of the obelisk, sits on the ground and cries.
It's been a long time since she has cried, she's found it unnecessary and counterproductive to cry. But, in this case the fear she just felt combined with the guilt she feels for having unintentionally insulted him has left her little alternative. As she cries, she thinks about what he said; how there were people who had slaughtered dragons for their teeth and tongues. How so many had been wiped out. Those were not the stories she had heard from the tellers in her younger years. The stories she heard were of gallant warriors riding off to save villages from marauding evil dragons.
She takes a few sobby breaths, turns over on her knees and out from the protection of the obelisk. Opening her pouch, she pulls out her part of the map, "Here," she says through her tears and throws the paper in his direction. "I'm sau... sau... sorry for what ha...hap...happened. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." she slides back behind the obelisk. "A woman in the village who was dying told me its part of the map to the scroll." she yells out from her position. "I know you hate me because I'm human. I do wanna help you. I really do. But...I understand why you hate me. And if you're gone come dawn... welll... good luck. I'm not even sure it really leads to the scroll. But, if it does... I was fine before I had it and I'll be fine if you take it."

Hima returns to crying and clutching her bag tightly against her body. She decides that the map probably means more to him than it does to her. She knows he didn't kill all these people and whoever did is a greater threat to her than him. If it was that group that passed by earlier that slaughtered the village, they'd have a much easier time snatching it from her than they would from him.