Name:- Mark

Age:- 16

Gender:- Male

Skills:- Mark is more than profficent with a blade, his father being a sword for hire and wishing his son to follow him into the trade took ever opportunity to school him in the art of swordsmanship.

He is quite capable of setting up and sustaining camps, once again due to his fathers occupation. He often travelled from village to village, town to town throughout Alagaésia. He even accompanied the armed forces his father traveled with from time to time.

Literature. One of the greatest joys and pass-times of his life, he could devote entire nights, indeed even days, to reading books and tomes. What they contained was irrelevant, as long as he enjoyed browsing their contents.

Race:- Human

Hair:- Brown, starting to grow long and curling at the edges.

Eyes:- Blue/Grey

Home town:- Teirm

Parents:- Susana and Robert (Both presumed alive)

Siblings:- Gavin, his younger brother by two and a half years. They share a fierce rivalry, Gavin even going as far to reveal signs of hate and malice toward his older, slightly more passive sibling.

Character Personality:- Mark is an often calm, collected individual. His mind is his sanctuary and for a time it was his only friend, thus he is often quiet and even shy, withdrawing within his mental bastion. He is energetic, detesting mindless exercise but delighting in physical tasks that he enjoys, such as traversing the wilds, constructing crude shelters and hunting.

Once a person has garnered enough trust from him he is a much more open individual, lively, happy and often trying to impress his comorade(s). He would seem like a whole new person. His attitude to life is somewhat layed back, unless goaded to action in which case he is driven and determined, forsaking almost all else of little worth until that which has startled him to action has been dealt with.

As he is still developing in mind and body he is often unsure of himself and his capabilities which can lead him to make rash decisions or persue unwise courses or actions.

When he is isolated, seperated from what he knows and trusts, he tends to panic or fret. Over the course of his life he's grown to distrust what he does not know or understand as it has often caused him great mental or physical trauma. However, of late, that trait has somewhat subsided as he is always connected with his beloved dragon, Raudhr. The two support each other, the Dragon providing courage and strength, Mark knowledge and gentle kindness.

Character History: Born in the town of Teirm, Mark lived a rather simple life, his father being part of the town guard and his mother a nurse. This had been how his parents had met, his father injured after a pirate raid was tended by his mother, one thing leading to another. When Mark was of the age of three his father was dishonourably discharged from the guard for being suspected in a murder case. Whether he was innocent or not was never truly discovered.

Leaving Teirm and the little he knew behind he headed out into the broad lands of Alagaésia, father and ever loyal mother at his side. It was soon after this journey had begun that his mother gave birth to his younger brother, Gavin, in the village of Yazuac. Yazuac became a temporary settlement for them untill Gavin was a year of age, Mark now being almost four. His father had now turned to the life of a mercenary, travelling the lands seeking employment. With bandit and Urgal raids on the increase, work was always plentiful. That, however, kept his father from his family's side. When he was 'home' in the temporary camps they made and dwelt in more often than not, it was only to drive his children harder, to cause them to work harder. He hoped they would achieve greater than he ever had or could.

Over time Mark and Gavin developed a fierce rivalry in almost all subjecxts, born of his brothers contempt and competitiveness. Time and again Mark quelled the upsurge of emotions his brother elicited in him, anger, hate, frustration. More often than not however, they came to blows. Mark was twelve when his father enlisted in a small warband heading out to raid Urgal encampments bordering the Beor mountains. Days went by. Then weeks. Then months. His father did not return. No news reached Lithgow of the warbands current status, the village it had left from and where Mark and his family currently stayed. Scouts were sent, confirming that there had been combat and several Urgal camps had been destroyed. But no more could be revealed.

Driven near mad by loneliness and desperation his mother left in the dark of night to persue her husband. As Mark and Gavin awoke they noticed her absence to their distress. Packing what they could they sprinted out into the wilds after her. For two days they followed her as best they could, before they reached a thundering river. Here their mothers tracks stopped. From the looks of it a bridge had recently allowed the river to be forded, but it had been cut. Morosely the two returned to Lithgow. For a week they stayed in their grief and misery, before Gavin finally struck the dolorous blow. He turned all his grief, misery and anger upon Mark and he, driven to the edge by recent happenings finally snapped. The fight that took place was terrible. It left Gavin broken and bloody, Mark little better. Storming from Lithgow Mark vanished. He did not where he was going, only that he needed to be gone.

It was not soon after a trading caravan found him, near starving in the wilds. He was nursed back to health, accompanying the travelling traders. Little about where he came from could be discovered, despite repeated questioning. In time he befriended Christoph and Jamil, Christoph being a year older and Jamil a year younger. The three were inseperable friends. For another year he stayed with the traders, until he was 15 years of age.

It was at this time that the caravan stopped at Teirm en-route to Carvahall. Winter loomed on the horizon, and the city was grey and still. While being to young at the time to recall much, he felt a pang of joy and recognition at the sight of the port city. As the Traders set up camp he Christoph and Jamil were given money to go into town for a brief while. Where Christoph and Jamil wasted their money, Mark saved his. The Traders stayed for five days, before preparing to leave. In this time Mark had carefully garnered more money through a series of small jobs and rather petty sales. He headed into Teirm once more, seeking a memento before he must depart. Wandering down to the warf he saw several cargo crates being lifted from a ship. He eyed the men at work with interest, before wandering down to the beach.

There were a few paltry stores, nothing that caught his eye, until he reached a seller of trinkets. Odds and ends. Curio's. Pushing the door aside he entered the dingy shop, browsing its wares. He paused as he came abreast to a dark red stone. He lifted it from the shelf, blowing dust from its surface. With the grime cleared the colour brightened slightly, but not by much. Darker lines of red streaked it, along with several paler shades mixed into a swirling pattern. He gazed at it for a minute before making his decision. The old man who owned the store, decrepit and infirm, nodded at the large stone, stating he had found it washed up on the shore years ago. Batering began, but the old man parted with it in the end even though it cost Mark the greater portion of his savings.

Two days went by, life carrying on as normal. Christoph, Jamil and Mark were out in the woods, having sought a night of seclusion from the traders. The main reason for this was a heated arguement Christoph had had with his parents. As the other the three chatted amicably a squeak was heard nearby. The trio carried on regardless, before the frequency and pitch rose. Slowly clambering to their feet they stalked towards the sound. A dagger and two bows were shared between them, blade raised and arrows nocked to the string. As they approached the edge of the camp they paused, the sound coming from behind them and to the left...

Bursting into Marks tent, expecting to find a large rodent or other wild creatures they paused. Nothing stirred. They eyed each other warily. Although none of them stated it, for fear of being branded a fool, they all shared the same thought. Foul magic was at work, surely? Christoph cried out all of a sudden as what had been thought a simple stone by Mark rocked back and forth, starting to crack along its length. Releasing an arrow it struck the rock but re-bounded, causing the squeaking to begin anew. Rushing forwards Mark prepared to grasp the rock and hurl it away, however, as his hands touched its surface a diminutive head poked out and touched his left palm. Cold yet burning energy surged through Mark, causing his to collapse, writhing in wordless pain.

As his vision cleared and the pain subsided he saw a small lizard like creature pinned down by Jamil, dagger raised to kill the beast. Driven by a sudden urge Mark let out a strangled cry, tackling Jamil to the ground.
Chaos embroiled the tent for over a minute, before Mark stood protectively over the Dragon, for that was what it was, lip bleeding profusely. Jamil and Christoph wavered uneasily at the edge of the tent.

What happened from here is unknown. No one knows of it or have been since informed....



Weapons: A long sword, plain and unassuming. Its hilt is wrapped with dark brown leather and the hilt is made from the same material as the blade, only darker. The pommel is a small orb, once more made from the same steel as the blade and hilt.

A dagger. Almost identical to the long-sword except in length and weight.

Likes:- Hunting, talking, reading and recently flying.

Dislikes:- Fools, idiots, 'snobs' and people who are generally mean and repulsive in there behaviour and attitude toward himself and others. Also mindless exercise, such as running for the sake of running.

Animal Companions:- None

Character's Physical Description:- Tall, almost six foot in height. His brown hair is rather long, stretching down his neck. Its rather messy, as if little care is lavished upon it. He is muscled but certaintly not heavily. If he tenses his athletic figure becomes much more pronounced.

His gedwëy ignasia is on his left palm, but is often concealed with a glove and/or dirt. His eyes contain a seemingly blank, far-away look, but that often gives way to an acute, alert gaze.

Dreams for the Future:- To discover the fates of one or both of his parents, be they alive or dead. To be free to do as he wishes with Raudhr, his dragon, and Jamil and Christoph, his dearest companions who stick with him through thick and thin.

Reason for Dreams:- His parents dissapearance tore a gaping wrent in his mind and soul. It is also the reason for his whole life being stripped away and destroyed. Some closure is still desperately sought by him, even after two years. As for being free to do as he wills, always has he tailed with others. Relied on others. He longs to be free. Free from it all and to feel like he belongs. To have carved out his own with those he cares for.

Alignment/side:- Good/Neutral

For dragon riders only

Dragon Name:- Raudhr (Means "Red" in the Ancient language).
Age:- One year old.

Gender:- Male

Parents:- Liana and Odanus

History: Born on the island of Doru Araeba his egg was lost to sea after his parents demise, defending their craggy lair from an emergent sea serpent. The great leviathen of the deeps dragged his mother into the depths, closely persued by his father who never surfaced. The egg was later washed ashore near Teirm where a merchant found it. Not realising what it was he tried to sell it for years, before Mark finally purchased it. He soon decided Mark was worthy to be his Rider, hatching and being partnered with him. His more recent life is a mystery.

Personality: His personality is stolid. Like a mountain that has stood the tests of time and remained unbowed. His intellect is vast, as is his cunning. However, when driven to anger his wrath is most terrible and cannot be easily quelled or sated untill the object of his distaste is removed utterly and completly. When hunting he seems almost noble, proud but when driven to combat for whatever reason he is almost a savage force of nature. He also seems prone to mood swings, yet only Mark could tell you why, linked as they are with mind and soul.

Colour:- Dark crimson. His wings membrane is a slightly lighter shade, while those in the hollow of his back and neck seem slightly darker.

Appearance: Raudhr is a rather large dragon, over 35ft from the tip of his tail to his snout. His wingspan is 80ft across. His legs, torso, neck and tail are heavily muscled. His claws are the colour of dried blood while his fangs are pearl white. His eyes are like two rubys, set in his scale hide. The flames he produces are tinted a bright crimson, darkening as they spread toward the edges.

Armour(if any):- None

Dreams for future:- To live peacefully with the partner of his mind and heart, Mark.

Reasons for dreams:- He has yet to find reason to want anything else.

A dragon does not count as an animal companion. We here on the SF believe that dragons, whether they be bound or wild, are a race of people, not a species of animals. So, no. Rauthr cannot be an animal companion, as he is not an animal.

Hey there! I would have edited the problems but im having some trouble finding the button that will allow me to do so >.<

Mind filling me on where it is?

Ah! Dont worry, ive done it. Tell me what you think.

Excellent, and you didn't call Rauthr an animal companion! lol

ACCEPTED!