Thread: Under The Auspice of the Dragon

The Dragons are the oldest living species known on the continent of Sondheim Nix't Astal. They come in many different sizes and shapes and colors. Only about a quarter of the Dragon population are willing, and destined to have Riders. This tradition started two thousand years ago, and the Riders were Elven. It wasn't until eight hundred years ago that Humans started becoming Riders as well. Riders, like Dragons, come about differently. Marked, and Chosen. Marked Riders These Riders are destined from birth to become a Rider. They are Marked in some manner upon their physical body to show anyone what they are. This could be a birthmark, that looks like a tattoo, in the shape of a dragon anywhere on the body, or a scale somewhere, and even the eyes can be effected, instead of circular pupils, they could be vertical slits. Marked Riders, once accepting who and what they are with their Dragon, are often very serious and dedicated to their vocation. Chosen Riders These Riders tend to be almost as valued as the Marked Riders, but this really depends on the Rider and their Dragon. A human, or elf, are sometimes chosen by an unhatched Dragon if they touch the egg. Too often, these Riders take their situation for granted, letting the power of being a Rider, go to their head too much, or not enough. These Riders, more often than not, may have had a friend that was a Marked Rider, but always didn't approve of their friend's actions and decisions, or sometimes even family member. These Riders, even when accepting who and what they are with their Dragon, are often foolish, and never quite grasp what it truly is to be a Rider. Typically, Riders and their bonded Dragons, feel the pain of the other. If the Rider dies, so does the Dragon. If the Dragon dies, however, the Rider often survives, but is never able to gain another Dragon, most surviving Riders do not wish to obtain a second Dragon for the simple fact of their bond. The bond between Dragon and Rider is unbreakable, even in death. The Riders responsibilities don't vary much. Primarily, their main focus is to keep the peace between various cultures. They do this by settling conflicts before it comes to war. If war does come along, the Dragon and Rider must not take a side, they are to remain neutral, and intercede only by stopping the war. Usually by arranging a meeting between the opposing leaders of the war. Essentially, the Dragon and Rider are messengers, but very powerful messengers. If a Dragon and their Rider are seen fighting in a battle, it is most likely that they are fighting against both sides, to try and stop, very rarely are they choosing one specific side. These days however, the Riders and Dragons have chosen a side to fight on and for. Theirs. One hundred years ago a king, by the name of Connor, has decided to declare war against the Dragon Riders. The reasoning? He had been born with a Mark, deigning him to be a Dragon Rider, unfortunately, there was no Dragon born with him. He was driven to a madness of jealous rage, and soon found that his Mark could consume the life force of the Dragon and its Rider, giving him more power each time he steals. One could hear the movements of the people milling about, the conversations, see the grieving expression on the faces of those who had lost loved ones in battles, and the determination to make it through to the next day. The smell of the assorted foods cooking over fires from various cooks that had formed their establishments, as well as others that have lived in Extraho Servo for much longer than the villagers. Extraho Servo itself, translating to Common being Dragon Keep, is a very high, and wide tower. Built to compensate the much larger sized Dragons such as Apollo, whose head is the size of a very large barn, his body size matching, and one wing spread to its fullest, could cover ten large houses lined up side by side. The only easily accessible way into the keep was by flight. The keep itself is the original base of operations for the Dragon Riders, Marked or Chosen. Extraho Servo is located near the border to the west on Sondheim Nix't Astal, the continent in which these people are on, and inside the deepest part of the forest, where there is a clearing to accommodate the tower, and the Dragons around, and now, the people. Nearby, marking the border to the western bit of Sondheim Nix't Astal, are large mountains that would need to be crossed if the Riders are able to negotiate with the West. Thunder is heard, even though it is a clear, bright day. People didn't seem to notice too much, however, those who were occupying the space that was determined as the spot for Dragons to land, moved away from it, for most, if not all, realized it was Marked Rider Caitriona Laoch and her Dragon Apollo that was bout to land in the clearing in the middle of the camp, within minutes, the ground shook with the thunderous thud of the large, black and silver Dragon claws on the ground and slowly he folded his wings against his his body. They had just come from flying and checking the perimeter. So far, so good. Sliding off of Apollo's shoulder, Caitriona landed with a gentle thud on her feet, the sound of jingling heard from the chain mail she wears. The formal Rider battle armor. It looked like it would be for show, but it was functional. Black leathers for tunic and breeches, form fitting, and chain mail for extra protections with the few armored plates over the abdomen, chest and back. Covering the front of her torso is a silver Dragon, her chestnut hair is twisted, tied and braided to be off her neck, shoulders and face, green eyes darted here and there as she took in the busy people of the Extraho Servo. Her scar, as always, being one of the more prominent features on her, running diagonally from her right eyebrow, across her nose and ultimately ending at the corner of her left jaw. Her expression the usual blank mask. Looking up at Apollo she nodded to him and he takes off with a single flap of his wings and lifts to flight for his hunt. A huge Dragon, after all, needed to eat enormous amounts of food, watching him, her expression softens quite a bit, but once he was out of her sight, it becomes the hard blank mask once more, and she goes toward the forge, relishing the sounds of a hammer hitting upon an anvil. Stepping in, she stared blankly at Chase, one of the Rider blacksmiths, aside from her, for a few moments before she went to a partitioned corner and as quickly as she could, she removed her armor, and changed instead, into a pair of dark brown leather trousers that hugged her hips snugly, boots of the same material and color, and a dark green tunic that laced at the neck. She rolled her sleeves up and tucked the tunic into the waist of her pants as she left the partitioned area and grabbed her leather apron and gloves before she went to her work station and proceeded on fixing a long sword for one of the Riders.