Eihmo'tei started moving, pantomiming something, and Kiara watched closely. He almost crawled across the ground for a moment, obviously exaggerating his movements in an attempt to get his message across, then suddenly pointed at the sky. He traced a shape with his paw, then tilted his head quizzically. Talking in his own language the whole time, he made a circle with his paws and moved them slowly upwards.

"He's asking...something about...timing?" Kiara guessed, looking at Kit for confirmation. As far as she could tell, his pointing to the sky and hand-shapes had something to do with the moon, or perhaps the sun.

Kit nodded, eyes narrowed in concentration. "I believe," he said slowly, "he wants to know when we plan to break camp." The dragon swung his head toward her, nuzzling at the back of her head and almost sending her face first into the sand. "Something about if we move at night or during the day."

Kiara batted him away, well used to his spontaneous (and often overly exuberant) signs of affection. "Hmm..." She furrowed her brow, thinking. She and Kit had planned to fly during the day; while the desert as hottest when the sun was up, it was simply too cold for her when they flew at night. Not only was Kit a fast flyer, so she had the wind to contend with, but he occasionally flew high enough that she had to remind him the air was too thin for her weak human lungs.

But, for a ground-dwelling creature as Eihmo'tei obviously was, travelling at night only made sense. She supposed they'd better establish if the fox-boy wanted to come with them to Essyrn. If he did, they should leave at first light; the city was about half a day's flight away. If he wanted to go his own way, he should probably continue travelling while it was still cool enough to do so. "Kit-" she started.

The dragon snorted. He knew what she'd been thinking. Nodding, Kiara looked back to Eihmo'tei and asked (with Kit attempting to translate), "Do you want to come with us-" she indicated herself and Kit with a hand gesture, then stood and walked a few steps to show movement, then smiled and spread her arms wide, hoping to convey "togetherness"- "or travel on your own?" Here she pointed at him, raised her finger to show "one", and then walked two fingers across her palm.

"Oh. Um..." Dusk glanced at him, then down at her feet as she stood. "It's just...habit," she mumbled. She looked at him again out of the corner of her eye; then, steeling herself with a breath, she said in a rush, "I should- ah, I mean...how can I repay you for your help?"

Dusk felt a small smile curve her lips. His calm was almost catching it seemed "It's nice to meet you too," she said, voice raising a bit above a whisper now. "Avalon," she added, almost as an afterthought, just to see how the name sounded from her own mouth.

Almost unconsciously, her eyes flickered toward the fallen man. The other two had returned to their table (one using the other as a crutch) and appeared to be grumbling to their companions. But they had left the unconscious one behind. Biting her lip, Dusk glanced up again into Avalon;s face and said softly, "Excuse me a moment," before kneeling next to the fallen man. She reached into the pouch at her hip and pulled out a small, cylindrical bottle, dabbing the paste inside onto the new bruise forming on his jaw.

But that's all you're getting, she thought. She probably could have healed him of the headache he'd have when he woke, but she thought it might serve as a good reminder.

He had a nice smile, Dusk decided. Maybe a bit awkward, but honest. Not many people had that. "Y-yes, I'm f-f-f-fine," she stammered out, blushing. She hated her stutter. "Thank you for your h-help." She tried to shrink further into her cloak, hands nervously wringing the fabric.

She peeked up at her rescuer, trying to find words. Surely what he'd done for her deserved more than a simple "thank you" didn't it? Should she offer to buy him a drink? No, she had no money, that was what started this mess. Well, she should at least get his name shouldn't she? Or she should give him her name? Or-

Her thoughts twisted together into a nonsensical jumble and she blurted out, "Dusk." Her blush deepened and she added, much more quietly, "My- my name's Dusk."

Dusk could feel the man start to shake as he held her, though whether that was fear or rage she couldn't quite tell. Maybe both.

But fear apparently won out. With a curse and a muttered, "This ain't over," he released her with a shove and moved toward the stranger's newest victim. Dusk gasped, stumbling forward, almost collapsing to the ground as she tried to regain her balance.

She caught herself against something hard and smooth. Blinking, she looked up; it actually took a moment for her to register that she had been knocked into the armored stranger. She stepped back hurriedly, whispering, "S-s-sorry."

The other two men stared at their fallen comrade, mouths agape. Dusk stared too, for a moment, blinking in surprise. Then she snapped her attention to the young man in armor, utterly bemused. He was smiling. How could he be so calm?

"You-!" Dusk flinched even though the anger was not directed at her; her captor's voice trailed off into a growl. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Easy," the other man said, clapping a hand to his shoulder before brushing past him to face the stranger. "I can take care of this." He cracked his knuckles.

He really was drunk. Or completely delusional. He stood no chance, not if that punch had been any indicator of skill. Dusk opened her mouth, trying to force out some sound, anything preferably a plea to desist from the violence. "Nn..." Her captor squeezed and she coughed.

The other man settled into what must have been intended as a fighting stance but was sloppy enough that she could have knocked him out of it. She could practically feel the aggression in the air, and somehow gulped in enough air to form two words.

"No, stop!" she called, though she knew it was pointless. And he attacked.

The instant Eihmo'tei turned around to re-situate his pack, Kiara gagged and tossed what was left of the scorpion onto the sand behind her. "Dear gods," she rasped, debating rubbing a handful of sand against her tongue to rid herself of the taste. She could hear Kit thunder a laugh again and shot a glare in his direction. Bad enough the fox kid was laughing at her (though it was a rather charming sound, she had to admit), she could do without the dragon.

As she looked up, she saw their guest had climbed to the peak of the dune and was glancing back at her, eyes glimmering green when the light of the dying campfire caught them. She stood and brushed sand off her rear, then set off after him. As she reached the peak, Kit raised his head up from the camp and dropped her pack into her outstretched hands. He gave him a nod of thanks and reached in, rummaging about until her fingers brushed against one of the strips of dried, salted meat she'd brought along for provisions. Pulling it out, she extended her hand to Eihmo'tei with a smile.

"Here you are," she said, despite knowing he couldn't understand her, "in exchange for that...tasty scorpion." Kit chuffed in amusement and she waved her free hand at him.Quickly she turned the wave into a gesture toward their little camp. "Kit, tell him he's welcome to share the fire, if he likes."

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Jessica Erinsri AKA Jynx
Age 24
Gender Female
Species Human
Ethnicity Unclear
Height 5'4"
Orientation Bi-curious, usually sticks with men
Occupation Thief
Residence Zantaric, but she will travel for a job if she needs to



Credit: my awkward sketchbook

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Jynx has long, wildly curly dark red hair and warm gold eyes. Her skin is a neutral shade of peach with a heavy layer of freckles. She is well muscled and curvy, and normally wears clothes to emphasize this fact. A long, thin scar slashes diagonally across her face from just above her right eye to the left side of her jaw; if one can look past that, she's pretty enough.

Personality
Having grown up in Zantaric, Jynx has a rather loose sense of morality. She does what she has to in order to survive, and she doesn't much care who gets in her way. Most of the people she knows aren't exactly saints, so she doesn't get too guilt ridden if she has to step on them to get a job done. That said, she tries to avoid harming innocents. When possible. As for general attitude...Jynx knows she no "great beauty"- what with the scar and all- but she makes up for it with buckets of charisma (and curves that could stop traffic, if you asked her).

Magic/Abilities
Demoncraft: Jynx has been summoning demons since she was a child, though she's kept the ability a secret. She carries around a grimoire with her at all times that essentially acts as a log for all the demons she has at her disposal.

Thief Skills: Jynx is quiet, agile, quick fingered, and a terrific liar. Her style is more to sneak around and avoid a fight, but if that fails she uses knives or- in extreme situations- demoncraft.

Relationships
Family: Jynx was raised by her mother Erin, who was a prostitute. She has several older half siblings, all of whom had left home before their mother's death and who she hasn't really had contact with since.

Demons: Jynx can summon a wide variety of demons, most with similar appearances and intelligence levels comparable to more mundane animals. These she can form decent working relationships with, like a hunter with a hound. Summoning more powerful demons is a bit of a tossup; though they are forced to obey her, they don't bother to hide their contempt and hatred.

For example, Jynx has a lasting contract with a demon called Ilieth- the most powerful creature she can summon- that will eventually end in her death.

Ilieth: A large (about seven feet tall), humanoid demon with russet and gray scales. Four double-jointed limbs tipped with black taloned fingers, two rows of teeth, and large, red eyes with angular, golden pupils. A heavy hitter, capable of human speech and manipulation; also telekinetic and telepathic.

Tiameth: A small fox-like creature with black and crimson fur and bat wings instead of front legs. An excellent tracker and clever enough, though not "intelligent" on a human level.

Dionish: A medium sized demon that looks like some sort of cross between a lizard and a dog, with the opposable thumbs of a primate. Colored in rusty oranges and browns, he's a decent creature of stealth but his real strength lies in brute force- he's also venomous.

Nightmare: A massive black charger with glowing red eyes, her mane and tail seem to be made of constantly swirling smoke. In addition to being a useful mount, she has the power to uncover a person's deepest fears and show it to them.

Pandorica: A humanoid demoness who appears to be made entirely of mist, though she is in fact corporeal to the touch. Often mistaken for some sort of ghost, her power includes hypnosis and the ability to heighten negative emotions.

Kori: A cat demon about the size of a lynx and possessing feathered wings, white furred with red markings and gold eyes. Handy in a fight, with a minor control over fire and the power to "jinx" people (curse them to have bad luck, the severity of which varies).

Janus: A two-headed hellhound, most closely resembling a large black and gray wolf in build and shape, with one head possessing poison green eyes and the other crimson.

History
Jessica first summoned a demon when she was six years old and cut her finger on a cooking knife, an incident that resulted in the scar across her face. Though the summoning was completely accidental, her mother panicked and made her promise to never use the power again. As Erin had no magical talent to speak of, it was assumed that little Jess inherited the power from her unknown father.

Then one night, when she was ten, a disgruntled customer snuck into their house and attacked Erin, fatally wounding her. As Jessica held her dying mother, her rage and grief awakened the power she had locked away and she summoned Ilieth. The demon promised her revenge, and protection from all those who would do her harm, in exchange for her soul. He gave her fifteen years before the contract would be fulfilled.

She took the deal.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads
All In A Days Work

Complete Threads
Don't Play A Player
S(t)ealing Creation
S(t)ealing Hearts

Dusk could have cried with relief. Someone had seen, he was going to help her. She watched the stranger approach, taking in dark hair and shining armor. He looked pretty official; perhaps he could simply intimidate these men into letting her go. Her wide eyes met the hazel ones of her (quite literally) white knight and she opened her mouth, hoping she could explain what had happened. "H-he- I-I-I-"

"Shut up." The man who held her shook her sharply. Perhaps he was too drunk to realize the effect his strength would have on her slight frame, or perhaps he just didn't care, because he shook her hard enough to slam her back against the side of the steps. Her head snapped back and she saw stars. She slumped in his hold, dazed, and could only vaguely make out what the man she had bumped into was saying to the newcomer.

"-just got some business to take care of with the lass, and it ain't none of yours. Move along."

Regaining some of her mobility, Dusk strained against her captor's hold. She wasn't weak, not if she put her mind to it, but she avoided physical confrontation when possible and was out of practice. But if she could just break away from him, maybe-

"Oi!" The big man shook her again, this time shoving her into the hold of one of his companions. Thick arms came around her, pinning her in place while she squirmed. "Knock that off. You're only making things harder on yourself."

The arms around her tightened and she gasped, suddenly unable to get enough air. Wildly, her eyes sought out the knight again. She locked her gaze with his, begging silently, Please help...

The Green Gander Inn and Tavern wasn't exactly what Dusk would have called the most desirable place to spend one's time, but the small town of Greentrail really didn't have a whole lot of other options. None, in fact. Besides, her room was cheap and the food was hot, so she supposed she really didn't have much to complain about.

Still, she couldn't help wishing the place was a bit less...unsavory seemed like a good word. The tap room was full to bursting with the town's just-off-work inhabitants who were currently in the process of enthusiastically drinking themselves into a stupor. But they weren't really too bad, just loud. It was the groups of travelers like herself that put her on edge, taking up the largest table in the middle of the room, roaring and laughing, "accidentally" smashing a plate and  then grabbing servant girls (and a few boys) round the waist.

She wrapped slim fingers around her own mug of distinctly nonalcoholic cider, drawing a little further into the hood of her oversized cloak. She'd tucked herself away in a corner near the stairs that led up to where rooms were for rent, hoping to down a quick meal before crashing into sweet oblivion. It had been another long day in a series of long days- in a series of rather long weeks, honestly- and she was exhausted.

Exhuasted enough that this crowded, stuffy room and its noise and tension became officially too much for her, empty belly or not. She pushed her half eaten dinner away and stood, giving a nod and a tiny, polite smile at the serving girl who saw her movements and threw her a questioning look. The girl nodded back, rolling her eyes at the rowdy group in the center of the room and giving her an understanding smile as she came over to clear her small table.

"Bit too much for you?" she asked kindly.

Dusk nodded again, blushing. "I'm just...tired," she whispered shyly.

"Can't say I blame you. You were just about dead on your feet when you stumbled in this afternoon, and this lot don't exactly make for a relaxing atmosphere," the girl chattered away in a friendly manner. "Go on and grab some shut eye. Will you be wanting breakfast in the morning?"

Once more she nodded, forcing out a soft, "Yes please," and wishing she had the courage to say more, to thank the stranger for her kindness and return the favor. But when she opened her mouth no sound came out, so she simply gathered her cloak around herself and made for the stairs.

Apparently she was even more tired than she'd originally thought, because she didn't even notice the giant of a man making his way back across the room from the bar before she ran smack into him. He jerked and swore, and suddenly she felt a warmish liquid dumped all over the top of her head. It stank of ale.

"Oh!" she gasped, looking up in shock and fear to see heavy brows set over dark eyes glaring down at her. "F-forgive me, sir. I-it was an a-a-accident-"

"I should bloody hope so," the giant growled, and she took a step back. "It think you owe me for  the drink, darlin'."

Dusk swallowed nervously, looking at her feet. "I'm v-very sorry, sir," she practically whispered, "but I don't have the m-money. I s-s-s-spent all my coin on a room for the night. Truly I'm s-s-s-s-sor-"

"'Sorry' don't pay my tab, do it?" the man barked. She cringed, hands fisting in the folds of her cloak. He took a step toward her and she took a step back. Her head knocked against wood and she winced; it seemed he'd cornered her up against the side of the stairs. The smell of alcohol reeked from him, strong enough to make her gag. Her mind raced, trying to come up with some way out of the situation. She glanced around, hoping someone would notice she was in trouble and would figure out a way to calm the man down.

Someone did notice. More than one someone. Unfortunately, "someone" was two of the rowdy bunch that had made her want to escape the taproom in the first place. She saw them glance over, talk to each other, then make their way across the room toward them.

"Whass'a trouble 'en?" one asked, so inebriated his words were barely distinguishable.

"Wench spilled my drink. Says she got no coin to pay for it." Dusk winced, shrinking- if possible- even further with fear.

"Well, payin' don't have to be in coin, necessarily," the third man offered, a crooked grin spreading across his face. Her eyes went wide and flickered around wildly, searching for a path of escape. They weren't quite boxing her in- if she moved quick enough.

Dusk darted forward between two of the men, meaning to hang a sharp right and bolt up the stairs. But someone grabbed her arm, the sudden strength against her slim frame actually jerking her backward off her feet. Too surprised and afraid to even cry out, she was spun around to face three pairs of hungry eyes.

"Oh." Kiara blinked, exerting a great effort of will to keep from recoiling at the sight of the large insect dangling from Eihmo'tei's hand...paw...thing. His wide grin suggested the scorpion was some sort of offering of good will, and she didn't want to offend him.

But still...yech!

"I believe he wants you to eat that," Kit noted; now it was his turn to be amused by her discomfort. It was hard for a dragon to sound smug, but he managed it.

Kiara shot him a glare, then quickly returned her attention to this new development. She eyed the scorpion as though it would suddenly come to life and sting her. She'd never thought of herself as a particularly squeamish person- gods, she'd stitched up her own wounds before!- but the thought of eating that thing made her stomach churn.

"Well you can't turn him down," her dragon mused aloud, "you might offend him. Perhaps an exchange? Some of your dried meat for that delicious looking invertebrate?"

"I hate you," Kiara informed him without taking her eyes from Eihmo'tei and his smile, forcing herself to return the expression. "Grab my pack, will you?" she added.

Kit laughed, a great rumbling sound like stones knocking together, and twisted his body so he could reach back over the dune to their little campsite. As he did, Kiara took a deep breath and reached out to accept the scorpion, teeth bared in what was becoming more of a grimace than a grin.

She had to repress a shudder at the feel of its slick carapace against her skin. Holding it at eye level, the young woman steeled her nerves and muttered, "Bottom's up."

Crunch.

"Ee-Moh-Tay."

Kiara beamed. It seemed they'd gotten the question across, somehow or another. This was confirmed when Kit huffed a puff of smoke out of his nostrils in satisfaction. Eihmo'tei said something else in his language, starting with her name and ending with his, that she assumed was a longer introduction.

"Eihmo'tei," she repeated slowly, trying to mimic the nuances of his accent (and failing, she was pretty sure. This was going to take some practice). "It's nice to meet you," she told him while Kit attempted to relay the sentiment. She considered putting her hand out to shake, then thought better of it; who knew what the friendly gesture meant in his culture?

Instead, she gave Eihmo'tei another once over, this time close and careful. He really was a wiry little thing. That may have just been his build, but it also may have been undernourishment. He did have some sort of travel pack- he could have been wandering around the desert for days for all she knew. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and worried at it, thinking. All they really had was travel rations, but it was better than nothing...

"Are you hungry?" she asked, patting her stomach and then miming bringing a spoon to her mouth repetitively. Once again Kit tried to relay the question, this time using only the words "Want" and "Food". She had to stifle a chuckle; the dragon usually didn't like talking to anyone but her, and she had to admit that watching him squirm under his new duty of interpreter was quite entertaining.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Seraphinata AKA Dusk
Age 18 (when she left home, current age TBD)
Gender Female
Species Mostly human...probably (technically demifae)
Ethnicity Unknown, probably Serenian
Height 5'4"
Sexuality Bisexual
Occupation Healer
Residence Wherever she can find a place to sleep



Credit: my awkward sketchbook

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Dusk has a number of distinct physical characteristics, the one people usually notice first being her hair: at the root it is a deep purple-black color and fades to an almost lavender shade near the ends, usually worn loose and long with a gentle wave. She has bright blue eyes with a ring of soft green around the pupils, making them appear almost teal. She is fair skinned with a smattering of very light freckles that sort of glitter if the light catches them right. Her figure is what most might deem "slender" or perhaps even "waifish".
Since she dislikes attention, she usually wears a dark gray cloak with the hood up to obscure her rather eye-catching hair and eyes. She also wears a pouch at her hip filled with different herbs, potions, and poultices she uses for healing.

Personality
By nature Dusk is a gentle, timid soul. She is soft spoken (if she speaks at all), and has a bit of a stutter that becomes more pronounced under duress. Despite her shyness however, she craves companionship- she's usually just to nervous to ask for it. She enjoys music and art and sunsets and waterfalls and really anything that could be considered "tranquil". Though she tries to avoid conflict, if confronted with it her first instinct is to negotiate in an effort to bring about peace. Failing that, she usually runs away. Her connection with the natural world gives her a deep respect for life, in all forms.

Magic/Abilities
Healing: Dusk can heal both magically and by more conventional methods. She tries to use herblore and the like as often as she can because using her magical talent to heal tends to be tiring (the more serious the injury/illness, the more tiring it is). However it goes against her nature to leave someone hurting, so if mundane means fail she will use magic to the best of her ability.

Mother Earth: In addition to her healing magic, Dusk has a connection with life itself. She can make plants grow and talk to animals; sometimes this connection even allows her to sense the emotions of the people around her (though she usually tries to keep this aspect of her gift on lockdown as it feels like spying).

Fighting: Dusk has never been much of a fighter, but if forced to she's pretty handy with a bow. She avoids taking life whenever possible however, which occasionally comes back to bite her in the ass.

Relationships
Raised in La'marri, Dusk has a soft spot for the village's residents. Unfortunately though, her shyness makes it hard for her to bond with two-legged people, so she really doesn't have any companions on her travels.

History
A baby was left at the La'marri orphanage with a name stitched into her blanket: Seraphinata. A mouthful of a name, and as the girl grew she earned the nickname "Dusk", for the color of her hair. She had a reasonably normal childhood for a La'marri orphan, and like most in her position she began to wonder about her parentage.

So, when she was eighteen, she decided to leave La'marri and set out to find whoever had left her all those years ago. Two years of travel has taught her much about the world, though there always seems to be more to learn.

Unknown to Dusk, she is actually the half-faerie child of Ilona's faerie godmother. Whatever happened to her mother that caused her to leave Dusk in La'marri has passed the connection between herself and her goddaughter on to Dusk herself.


__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads
A Warrior, a Healer, and an Accidental Adventure [Archive]
Out of the Woods

Kiara tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow in confusion as the smaller creature repeated her gesture, saying carefully, "Kay...Arr...Ah."

"I don't think he quite understands," Kit muttered, tilting his head to mirror her. Then he snorted and shook his head. "His language is too foreign to me, I can only get simple concepts across."

"Right. Okay then." Kiara worried her lip. That had probably been too much information to convey all at once. What to do, what to do... In a  sudden burst of movement she strode forward until she was only an arm's length from the fox-boy and plopped down onto the sand. "Try asking his name again," she told Kit, smiling at the third party.

The dragon snorted and shuffled his wings, grumbling something about her stubbornness and damned curiosity, but he did as she asked. "What...are...you...called?"

This time Kiara waited until the question had been asked, not wanting to overload their surprise guest, before placing her hand on her chest and again saying, "Kiara." Then she reached out to pat Kit's flank and said clearly, "Kit." She repeated the gesture several times: "Kiara, Kit. Kiara, Kit." Then she reached out, extending her hand toward the fox-boy, and tilted her head, hoping to show confusion.

Once more, a hand to her chest. "Kiara." Her palm to the dragon's scales. "Kit." Reaching out. "...?"

The fox-boy stood, ears raising from their flattened position to one that Kiara would have interpreted to mean attention or interest in another canine creature. He spoke again in his strange language, again reminding her of a dog's method of communication, albeit with a tranquility to it she'd never heard from a true canid, and seemed to be smiling. Kit must have gotten through to him after all.

"What's he saying?" Kiara asked the dragon, though she kept eye contact with the stranger and offered a smile of her own (closed-lipped, she wasn't sure if he would take teeth as a sign of aggression).

Kit swung his head close to her and answered, "He seems to be apologizing for startling us, and telling us that he means no harm. I believe he was simply...curious." Because of the bond they shared and Kit's familiarity with the common tongue, his words were clear and distinct in her mind, though the sounds that came out of his mouth were a jumble of foreign dragon words (he'd tried to teach her his own language once, but her human mouth and vocal chords just couldn't form the words correctly).

"Oh." Kiara raised a hand to her mouth to cover her chuckle. "Polite little thing, isn't he? Could you return the favor, tell him we're sorry for scaring him, we were just being cautious? Maybe ask his name while you're at it." Kit nodded and tilted his head to face the stranger again, opening his mouth to rumble out her message as distinctly as he could.

As he did, the young woman kept her gaze locked with the little creature. Still smiling to show good faith, she pressed a hand to her chest and said slowly, "Kiara."

There was something about the scent of blood, River decided. Something that transcended beyond normal sense recognition and touched a primal core in everyone. Even humans- whose senses usually seemed so weak- reacted to it. For most it inspired fear or a desire to fight, or perhaps both. For others, like herself, it may awaken an instinct normally locked away.

An instinct to hunt.

Which, in her line of work, tended to be a good thing. She'd been tracking her bounty for over a week, so when she came across the scene of what had quite obviously been an attack while on the trail she considered it a strange stroke of luck (well, not for the victim, obviously, but still...). She knelt and sniffed at the puddle of blood- very fresh, still warm almost- learning the scent.

It was a lot of blood; now, she wasn't a doctor, but she figured whoever this blood belonged to must be in pretty bad shape. Shit. Maybe if she found the victim fast, she could help somehow... And hopefully take down her mark while she was at it. Bastard had obviously been aiming to kill, it seemed only fair she return the favor.

After all, the bounty did say "dead or alive".

Taking one last deep breath to cement the scent in her mind, River set off along the trail in a steady lope. She wanted to move quickly, but she wasn't sure how much strength she should reserve for the fight (because of course there would be one). She turned a corner, emerging onto the street- and froze.

A few yards ahead of her, two figures were backlit by one of the sparse streetlamps. One was clearly the person whose scent she'd been following, sprawled along the cobblestone, lifeless. Damnit, she was too late.

The other figure was a stranger, both in appearance and scent. Tall, cloaked, hooded, and masked. Just like the description her employer had given her. River saw red. She growled low in her throat, feeling the wolf begin to writhe under her skin. How dare he? She was by no means a stranger to death and killing, but that life was not his to take. Her eyes narrowed, the flecks of gold in the hazel become more pronounced.

"Murderer!" she spat, kicking off the ground into a full sprint straight toward her mark. Three paces in, she changed, feeling the familiar shiver ripple through her body as her form shifted from human to wolf.

Her back paws hit the rough stone ground and she leaped, claws reaching toward the hooded figure, fangs bared in a savage snarl.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name Renkaryn, Ren
Age Unclear, he lost track somewhere around 450
Gender Male
Species Dragon
Orientation Pansexual
Height 6'5"
Residence Nomadic

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
In his natural form, Ren is a large dragon (about the size of a small hill if he curls up and lays down) completely covered in gold scales with a paler gold underbelly and ruby red eyes. In human form he is a tall man, appearing to be in his late twenties, with long, golden blond hair, tanned skin, and crimson eyes. Because his inner fire keeps him warm regardless of form of climate, he tends to favor lighter clothing, often forgoing pieces entirely if he can get away with it.

Personality
Like many of his kind, Ren considers himself superior to most other creatures. He's an arrogant pain in the ass, but he really does mean well (most of the time). He also tends to not understand human mannerisms and intricacies of communication; dragons are very straightforward creatures (sarcasm aside), so even when he's not being a jerk there tends to be a decent amount of misunderstanding.
He does have an interesting little habit of hoarding, a quirk that stays with him not matter what shape he takes.

Magic/Abilities
Shapeshifting: Ren was born with a rare gift that appears every few generations in his bloodline, allowing him to take any form that he wishes. However, he can only take a form different from his natural one for twelve hours at a time, then he must return to dragon form to "recharge" (this takes at least six hours, usually).

Glamour/Hypnosis: Ren can compel people to do things or to forget certain events, if given adequate time and eye contact.

Elemental Magic: Even out of his dragon form, Ren has a fair amount of control over fire- but he can only breathe it in his natural shape.

Relationships
Family: Brigid, a human he loved once upon a time, and their daughter Fiona. He hasn't seen either since before the girl was born. In fact, it is unclear whether or not he knows she exists.

Karyn, a son sired through rather questionable means.

History
One day, apparently on a whim, Ren decided he wanted to live among humans. And he's gotten nothing but trouble ever since.

__________________THREAD TRACKER
Current Threads

Complete Threads

The little fox-creature was obviously terrified, babbling in a language she didn't recognize. Well, at least that told her it was intelligent. Fat lot of good that would do if she couldn't get anything sensible out of it-

No, him; the little being was a him, she could tell upon closer inspection. And he looked as though he thought she was going to eat him or something (well, that might have something to do with the dragon, in his defense). She began to feel like a bit of a bully- but she had to be cautious, it was a basic rule of survival! Still... Those big gleaming eyes looked up at her and she sighed, sheathing her dagger, then held up her hands to show she was unarmed.

"Look, I'm sorry I scared you," she said. She knew he probably couldn't understand her anymore than she could him, but a soothing tone never hurt in a situation like this. She kept her voice low and calm, as though she was talking to a spooked horse, or trying to lull a guard dog. "I'm not gonna hurt you, we just didn't know what you were doing here." She bit her lip. Poor little thing. She may have just about given him a heart attack.

But she still didn't know anything about him- and wasn't likely to, if she couldn't speak with him- and not knowing things made her twitchy. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair, looking up at her dragon. "Kit, think you could...?"

The great creature snorted, shuffling his wings in his version of a shrug. Like most fully sentient dragons, he had the gift of tongues; but even that power had its limits. If it was a language he'd never even heard before, there was no telling if he'd be able to pick it up quickly enough to translate.

Slowly, so as not to startle the fox-boy, young woman and dragon moved as one. She reached up to take the burning branch from him as he dipped his head closer to their little guest and narrowed his eyes, concentrating. Then he spoke. The sounds were still foreign to Kiara, but because it was Kit speaking she began to glean their meaning:

"No...harm?"

There! A glint in the darkness, a sort of green glow just above the peak of the dune that flickered into being in the firelight. Some sort of desert dwelling animal?

No, that couldn't be it. Kit wouldn't have made such a fuss if it was. But the dragon wasn't attacking either- he wasn't sure if this strange new guest was friend or foe. Cautiously Kiara crept forward, laying her palm flat against Kit's flank, a signal to stand down, but be ready.

Did the creature know it had been spotted? It didn't move, so she assumed not. Good, that gave her the advantage. Sheathing one of her daggers, she grabbed ahold of one of the spines that ran along Kit's back and swung herself gracefully up onto the dip where his neck met his shoulders. Taking the cue with an ease born of a lifetime spent together, the dragon arched his neck as she ran along it, then launched herself through the air, using the top of his skull to kick off.

She sailed gracefully over the dune and landed behind the little intruder, feet slipping slightly on the sand. Dagger at the ready she drew herself up, prepared to launch into a mocking tirade about how spying on people wasn't nice- but the words died in her throat.

Kiara had seen a lot in her nineteen years. She'd never pretend to be a scholar, but she'd wager she was a bit more worldly than most. And never had she seen anything like this.

At first glance, the creature seemed to be a combination of a human child and some sort of fox-like creature. It even had a bushy little tail! It's eyes were what had given off that glow; the flaming brand Kit had grabbed in his mouth to illuminate the back of the dune made them glint up at her. She squinted, confused, and slowly started to lower her blade.

"Who...what are you?"

Well hi there.
So here's some very brief descriptions of my characters; if you like 'em, let me know and let's do a thing!



Illiana, a bard on a journey, guided by her fearsome spirit companion.

Tai, an ex-maoin currently living the life of a mercenary.

Karyn, a rather timid half dragon sired through rather questionable means.

Raze, a kulshedra mercenary

Minala, an opal ranked kulshedra female. (see Draconian's art for deets on the kulshedra!)

Jo and Bay, a werewolf mother and her young son.

Brianna, a down to earth centaur huntress with a troubled history.

Katahn, an escaped Essyrni slave and water mage.

Wish, a young dhampir politician/assassin.

Isabeau, a young pirate captain with something to prove.

Zahra, a rather shy an delicate wandering elf, usually confined to the Moraki.

Dusk, a timid healer on a quest to find her birth parents.

River, a shapeshifting bounty hunter with an insatiable appetite for adventure.

Kiara, a wanderer with a dragon; a bit on the mischievous side but pretty damn handy in a fight.

Ren, an arrogant dragon who could probably stand to be taken down a peg or two.

Tara, a bard with a talent for magic who can do a personality 180 so fast it'll make your head spin.

Puck, a mischievous fae creature with a dark side...possibly.

Maka, a necromancer searching for a way to remove her powers.

Mal, a young phoenix who's lived most of his life as a human.

Ghost, an albino shapeshifter just trying to survive.

Hanako, a playful kitsune who's usually more trouble than she's worth.

Luca, a merman with an insatiable curiosity.

Aura-lee, a shy siren who does her best to live a solitary life.

Midnight and Starbright, cursed twins with polar opposite personalities.

Morgana, a rather aggressive siren with a hunger for just about everything.

Calen, a jack of all trades with a gift for ice magic.

Anoria, a faerie on a quest to reclaim her stolen wings.

The Night Mare, a being of both wisdom and danger, both guide and assassin, lover and terror.