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Standard wp rules apply! If you are not one of the two in the title of this thread then please do not post! Feel free to read along though! {Small warning, there is some cuss words sprinkled within, read at your own discretion :) } --- { Dragon Rider x Dragon Hunter } "When a Dragon Hunter leads his hunting airship into dragon territory, he's stunned by the intervention of a dragon bearing a rider upon it's back. The sight alone goes against everything he believes in. Dragons are ruthless beasts that kill everything on sight. Thats why he has to hunt them. But thats not what he's seeing now." |
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Name: Lorcan Einar Age: 21 Gender: Male Sexuality: Bi-Romantic Asexual Appearance: Lorcan stands at around 6'5, with a well toned, muscular build. He has darker skin resembling a sort of chocolatey shade, with hair that appears even darker, hanging towards his lower back in curly waves. Upon his head, he wears a sort of makeshift crown created by the reddish, magenta horns of dragons he has felled in the past. The horns on the base of the crown curve around his head, while a slightly sharper, thinner pair protrude upwards from the base, almost making them look like they come from Lorcan's head themselves. His eyes are always sharp and narrowed, giving him a grumpy and very unapproachable appearance. The irises of his eyes are a piercing reddish pink, like the horns of his crown only much brighter. His expression is often one of a permanent scowl, with his entire list of emotion seemingly being annoyed, pissed, or straight over it. His upper arms, torso and legs are well defined with his muscles highlighting every dip and curve nicely. He sports a set of abs which arent quite as vivid but still there to be appreciated. Despite his profession as a dragon hunter, he only sports a single scar, which is a large burn scar with jagged edges like a star that rests upon his back. He always keeps this covered by his clothes or by a special cloth wrapped around his torso. Personality: Lorcan's a real nasty piece of work even on his better days. With a prickly exterior full of grumbled insults, scathing glares and full on exploding sessions, its no wonder most usually tend to keep their distance from him. Growing up, he was always fawned over for his potential at becoming the next great hunter of his people. Unfortunately, such attention got to his head. The expectations of his people are heavy upon his shoulders, but because of that, he feels he cannot turn to them for help when things get tough. He's the mountain among a raging storm, leading his fellow hunters into the dragons dens with certainty of victory. He often lashes out at others around him, blaming them for anything that goes wrong. He never holds himself accountable for things, since he's the villages perfect golden boy hunter, therefore, he can never do any wrong can he? Sometimes he has a cheekier side, where he will sometimes banter and tease those around him. Those days come once in a blue moon, sometimes straight after a very successful hunt or after a few mugs of mead. He can be a real smartass too. Throwing smart comments and snide remarks around, sarcasm can be his best friend at times. He enjoys watching others tremble at his name and cower in his presence, his form and reputation commanding respect and obedience wherever he so chooses to go. He is incredibly prideful. He expects things to be done when he wants them, how he wants them, where he wants them. To say no to him, if to defy him is like inviting a fire to a forest. He will take signs of disrespect and hesitance as a betrayal to him and his word, often causing him to become agrivated beyond reason. Despite his shitty attitude, he is a very knowledgeable hunter. He has knowledge outside of his profession, like foraging, cooking, and even, surprisingly, sewing. He despises asking for others assistance when it comes to anything, especially repairing his own clothes so he taught himself at a younger age. He knows how to track, how to create fire from almost nothing, and he can even identify medicinal and edible herbs, plants and other small things. Strengths: ☆Large muscular build makes for heavier hits. He can tank quite a decent amount of blows without being worn down. ☆His fierce personality often boosts the morale of his fellow hunters mid hunt, his certainty for victory almost contagious. ☆Can create simple balms and mixes from medicinal herbs to self treat his wounds or those of others. ☆Talented at most weapons, both long and close range. Weaknesses: ☆His attitude and loud mouth make it difficult to get along with him. ☆His leadership skills are lacking substantially, so teamwork is almost completely off the table. Its blind obedience or nothing. ☆Massive ego, lots of pride, makes taking criticism almost impossible without him lashing out. ☆Difficulty admitting he's wrong or needs to ask for help can often wind him up in very dire situations. ☆Black and white mindset leaves him pretty close minded when it comes to anything that goes against his beliefs and what he's been taught growing up. ☆His back scar is a huge no-no for him. To him, the scar is a permanent sign that once he had been incompetent and it stings to think about. He's almost ashamed of it, and will do everything in his power to keep it hidden from anybodies eyes, including his own. Family: A younger brother {16}, Kaino, much smaller and much more timid than Lorcan. He is terrified of almost anything, especially dragons, so hunting has never been on his radar. He is very close with Lorcan though, and is about the only person Lorcan has willingly opened up to about his shortcomings as a hunter and as a person. Lorcan's father, {43}, Cyrus, a mountain of a man, much to be expected of the hunters village chief. However, despite his massive form and rugged appearance, the man is a gentle giant. He hunts not for sport or fun, but to protect his people. He is gentle with those in the village, always caring for the children, the sick and the elderly. He wishes Lorcan to learn that gentle kindness one day, knowing how passionate he already is to become a warrior and a defender. Lorcan's Mother, {Deceased}, Lilith, was killed during a dragon attack when Lorcan was little. Most believe this fed into his hatred of the scaly beasts and was his turning point into becoming the man he is today. Her gentle nature and golden heart had softened the sharp edges of Cyrus, and many think perhaps if she were still around, maybe Lorcan would've been just as kind. |
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Name: Elise Rysar
Age: 19
Gender: Female Sexuality: Straight
Appearance: Elise is an average for a female with the height of around 5”5’, she has long wavy brown hair with a hint of a golden hue when in the sun. She tends to put her hair into a messy bun with pieces framing her face, though when she is hanging around and not in the air
with her fellow dragon, she tends to leave her hair down. She has bright friendly green eyes that compliments her one to many freckles that enhance her nose and cheeks. Her green eyes gives off a king hue to the female; as if she was a light beam in a shadowy room. She also has dark eyelashes that she tends to not mess with, as they already look like she is wearing mascara xD
She’s skinny but with a bit of fat in her stomach, though she was merely just muscles and not bones. Her arms are well defined with soft muscles but mostly resembles those arms of an ordinary female.
Personality: Elise is a very friendly person, but protective of her dragon Ragnar who she will die for with her very last breath. She’s fierce and strong and won't back down from a fight, but if you get to know her, she’s just a humble girl who is very affectionate. Elise tends to be sassy and a busy-body most times, as she likes to know who she’s up against and who she's talking to. She’s a favorite among the dragon community, the dragons tend to look up to her as she has this love to protect them.
If you do end up getting on her bad side, she’s cruel and wicked. Elise will stop at nothing until you’re defeated; she’ll use your greatest weaknesses against you. So be careful when you tread upon this female, because even though she seems friendly, that could very well be a mask that she is using to hide her true self.
She bears a few scars from one of the many battles with the dragon hunters, she will never trust one of them. Though, she tends to play a game with them now. She likes to learn their motives, make them think she is on their side if only to find their true intentions. She loves Ragnar dearly and would do anything to keep him out of harm's way.
Since she is a busy body she LOVES to get up in your busy, she asks a lot of questions but perhaps that is a good thing for her case. To learn who you are. Your motives. Your secrets. Most people just think she talks a lot, that she is a drama queen, I mean they are half truths, but the other half. . . not so sure.
Weakness: -
Ragnar, she will do ANYTHING to protect that dragon. -
Her family, she fiercely protects and devotes her love for them. She will stop at nothing until they are safe. -
Willing to not back down from anything. Tends to get her in a pickle sometimes.
Strengths:
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Her magic (if we are doing magic: Weild’s fire) -
Her busybodyness comes in handy when she is learning about her enemies ;) -
Her fierceness, as she tends to fight for everything. Of course of course. -
Her dragon.
Family:
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She has a little brother ( Ryder) who is 16, he’s 6’0 and muscular, but very, very shy. He tends to be there for his sister, but shy’s away from a fight. He is not the type to go out and fight battles or get into arguments. He is just a humble boy.
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Her mother (Sarah) is in her 50’s, she has very fragile bones and tends to forget things. She has been diagnosed with dementia at an early age, her health declines day by day. Doctors say she has about a year or so left.
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Her father (Ethan) is also in his 50’s, though he is perfectly healthy for his age. He has no fighting experience, but cares for his daughter greatly. He has black hair with blue eyes, he does tend to have a bit of subtleness on his jaw most times, rarely letting it grow into a beard. |
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Lorcan Einar | Dragon Hunter | 21 | M The skies were clear as far as the eye could see, the smallest streaks of white clouds stretched by the high winds painting the horizon as the air ship glided along. Large mechanical wings slowly flapped in slow strides, moving the ship through the air as the sails caught the drifting currents. The whirring of the engines filled the air with a constant deep rumble, a beast of metal and wood, something unnatural, man-made, something most would've only heard of in old fairytales or seen in dreams. Or, for the unfortunate dragons, in nightmares. The ship resembled the same appearance as those found in water, the curved hull, thick wood marred in deep claw marks and scorched patches, reinforced by a metal cage like an external skeleton that reached up towards the rails like some ungodly set of ribs. Upon the front of the ship lay a large set of doors. A hatch. And hiding behind it? A massive crossbow, large enough to skewer a mountain with its bolted arrow. The rest of the ship was fairly standard. A few barrels were strapped off to the sides of the deck, full to the brim with sea water. A precaution their captain had set in place, especially considering the scaly menaces they dealt with often and their tendencies to throw fire wherever they wished. Tied above the ship, instead of the normal sails and mast was a large oval shaped balloon, the heated coals from the furnace below deck constantly pumping hot air inside to keep the ship above the clouds. Steam occasionally hissed from the vents that ran along the upper sides of the ship. All in all, it was quite the sight to behold. A fine hunting vessel for a fine dragon hunter. The doors to the captains quarters opened, lulling the deck into an uneasy silence as a broad figure emerged. He never dressed fancily, always expecting the spilt blood of his prey and all, so he always settled for older, faded tunics. Baggy pants tied tightly around his waist and ankles often made him seem larger than he truly was, a deception, or an illusion of intimidation. But it wasn't his size nor his height that gave the captain such a powerful aura. It was all in his eyes. The most piercing and sharpest shade of pinkish red that made all who fell beneath his gaze freeze with hesitation or fear. His darker skin seemed to glow in the light of the afternoon sun, his face framed by the dark chocolate curls of his hair that ran down to his lower back like a majestic mane of masculine beauty. Upon his head lay the curved horns of his past hunts, matching his eyes in their magenta hued appearance as they wrapped around his head like a twisted crown, trophies of his achievements and a reminder to all of his capabilities. Lorcan Einar. Esteemed dragon hunter, and son of the village chief. Both men were highly respected. Only difference? Well... There wasn't only one. They bore the same last name. Lorcan had his father's eyes. His hair. His stature. Yet they were nothing alike. Cyrus was built like a mountain. All muscle and scars from decades of experience in the skies. Yet despite the rugged appearance of the big man, he was a gentle giant at heart. He enjoyed his downtime, cooking for the village, and aiding his people. He wears his heart on his sleeve, while the rest of their people wonder if Lorcan even has one at all. And as he stood there before his fellow hunters aboard his ship, they raised uneasy gazes upon his form, tense and bracing themselves for what was most definitely either going to be a snapped out command, an absolute fit over something being done wrong... He barely even gave his crew time to ready themselves before his voice snapped out, loud and thunderous, a deep grumble in his throat that made every one of his words sound like the snarl of a pissed off beast. "DOGS, THE LOT OF YOU!! YOU THINK WE HAVE TIME TO BE LEANING AND CHATTING LIKE THIS IS SOME SCENIC CRUISE?!" He all but roared as the crew scrambled to their feet from their previously casual lounging. His hand found a half touched glass of a rather colourful concoction, the orange liquid shimmering as it sloshed over the rim of the glass as Lorcan raised it like it had wronged him in every way possible. "SIPPING ON FIRE FERN FUCKING WHISKEY UPON MY SHIP?! I'LL SEE TO IT THE WHOLE BUNCH OF YOU GET STRAPPED TO THE WINGS-! WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO BE RELAXED! NOT WHEN A DRAGON MIGHT APPEAR AT ANY MOMENT!! EITHER GET TO WORK, OR GET THE HELL OFF MY VESSEL!!" He finished his tirade with a final grunt, the glass from his hand flying through the air and smashing to pieces against the deck as the crew members practically ran over one another in their haste to get back to work. Lorcan's chest was heaving from his outburst, his cheeks a little flushed from the sheer amount of rage he was fighting to keep contained. As much as he wished to throw the other hunters overboard for their insolence, he needed them in order to ready the weapons and to fly the ship. His sharp gaze shifted out over the deck towards the rails. The sky seemed to go on forever. Untouched by all but the wind and the wings of their ship as they sailed. It had been a long few weeks out here, above the mountain ranges where the dragons typically roosted. He had been so confident when he gave the command to set sail for this place, and yet, all they'd gotten was hot sun and empty blue skies. Not a bird. Not a dragon in sight. He hated quiter days like these. No thrill. No excitement. No danger. Just a bunch of sitting and waiting... He exhaled heavily, leaning against the rail. "This is such bullshit." He growled to himself, propping his chin upon his hand as he leaned on the rail with his elbow. |
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“Hurry up, Elise, or perhaps I might choose another person to ride me." Ragnar grumbled inside my mind. I rolled my eyes dramatically. Ragnar has been complaining a lot lately about how we have been slacking our patrols in the skies.
I was sitting in my old vanity in my room, it was just an old oak desk with a small mirror I found in the village, and I put it on the desk. I use it to be able to do my hair, maybe slap on some makeup every now and then. Today was definitely the day when I brought out the crusty makeup that lived under my bed. I looked like shit. My green eyes were dull and faded, like I had seen better days; my hair was limp and frizzy, and the normal golden hue it puts off was not there. “I could use a better day,” I sighed as I slowly got up from the wooden chair and hankered over to my bed, which was only a few steps away.
I was not rich, I was poor. Barely surviving as it is, Ragnar was the only one keeping me company these days, apart from my family. But they were traveling more and more these days, and my father was trying to find a cure for my mother. Who was sick. The doctor told us she didn’t have that long left, it hurt thinking about it. My mother is too young to be able to suffer with what she has. Demantia.
“Let’s see if you can even get a new rider. Would you rather scare off the whole village with your charm?” I teased him a bit. I got on my knees and looked under my bed, and a small box lay right under. It’s been so long since I needed to use makeup, but staying up every night finally caught up to me. Ragnar warned me about the hunters that are appearing once more. I thought we finally defeated them during the last fight, but I guess not.
My fingers grabbed the dusty wooden box and slid it out from under the bed. It was covered in filth and dust. Yep, it indeed has been a bit since I used any of this. I brought the box back to my vanity and slid open the lid. There was only mascara, some powder, and color for my lips. Again, not much. But it worked.
I again looked in the mirror and then began to do my makeup.
Once I finished, I dressed into my riding gear, which was just some skin-tight leathers and some straps that held weapons. I normally bring my dagger, it gives me good luck. This was the dagger I used to kill that last hunter. That fight was brutal. I put on my jet black boots and then quickly tied my hair back into a low ponytail, this would do.
I could feel Ragnar’s impatience through our bond, he’s insufferable. Always making me wonder why I bonded with him. But then again, I could not complain. He’s my best friend, he’s always there for me, and I am always there for him. I left my bedroom and walked through my home. It was old and dusty. I lived in a run-down cottage. It was only for one shilling. Which was all my money, but I had a home.
I left my home and sighed, “I’m ready, where are you?” I refused to patrol the skies for a few days, but since the news, I couldn’t help but be afraid. Scared. What happened last time, the battle- It was something I did not want to remember. I almost died. “And I saved your ass.” Ragnar reminded me with a grunt, “I’m above, I’ll grab you with my claw.” Great, he’s going to fling me in the air and see if I can make it onto his back. I looked above and smiled. A massive blue dragon hovered above me. One of his talons reached down, and he pinched my leathers, bringing me up off the ground. Just like I predicted, he raised me and flung me into the air. He does this all the time, never giving me any warning. But I got used to it, and I was actually pretty skilled. I twisted so I could see where he was. He was directly below me, so I let myself fall onto his back, and once I did, I quickly got into a sitting position and held on.
“Are the others not joining?” I asked through the bond, his answering grunt told me they were indeed not coming with us. I was, for the most part, the only rider, at least in my area. I took care of the other dragons, as best as I could. I was not bonded with them; some were iffy about me, others were kind. I had to stay back, though, because they indeed loved their personal space. I could not speak to them as Ragnar and I can. But we communicated through my dragon.
The skies were clear, no signs of anything unusual. We quickly came up to the ocean, thankfully, where my village was, the ocean was not far from us.
We kept our distance up in the sky; some would think we were just a large bird, others didn't care. Except for the hunters. They knew when they saw a dragon, no matter how high the dragon was up in the sky. The hunters are cruel and twisted, hunting these poor creatures. For what? To get rich by selling scales? How achievable is that?
Perhaps one day I will know why some hunt these magnificent creatures, but for right now, I have to keep alert. For the sake of the dragons, and for the sake of my family. |
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Lorcan Einar | Dragon Hunter | 21 | M He regarded the skies with a look that could only be described as bored. His entire body was still a little tense around the shoulders now that the ship had fallen silent of the crews chatter after his outburst. Not a single one dared to even so much as glance his way, busying themselves in their jobs before Lorcan had a chance to blow up again, or worse. He growled to himself, running a hand over his face as he felt the beginning of a headache starting to form in his temples. 'First we get out here and find nothing. Second, the village gives me the most INCOMPETENT teenagers who barely know what theyre doing.' He thought bitterly to himself. He would never admit that indeed, it was originally HIS idea to sail out here, all this way to the mountain ranges for... Scenic views apparently. "WHERE THE HELL ARE THESE SCALED FUCKS?!" He suddenly roared out, the railing wood creaking in protest as his hands gripped them a bit too tightly in his frustration. He couldn't go home like this. Not after his outburst to the crew. Bringing them all the way out here only to call it off and go back home empty handed? He'd be beyond humiliated in front of his entire village. Especially Chief Cyrus, his father. He had a duty to hunt these winged demons and protect his people. But how could he do that when they simply weren't coming out?! Were they hiding somewhere?! It wasn't winter yet, so it can't have been because of hibernation or migration... The wings of the ship continued to rise and fall steadily, moving the airship along at a slow pace while the engine continued to whir loudly below deck. The furnaces continued to pump hot air into the large balloon above the ship, letting out a few jet streams of steam along the sides. Lorcan closed his eyes as he listened to the powerful machinery, letting the steam ruffle his hair and cool his face as it dissipated. Maybe... He had to cut their losses. His red gaze flickered over to the stores where he knew supplies were starting to run low. The crew had been out here for a few days, so food rations were depleting quickly, and water...? They didnt have time to try and refine any of the sea water that sloshed around within the fire protection barrels. He let out a low huff, starting to push himself away from the rails to give the command... When his eyes caught movement far in the horizon. Lorcan didnt even need to second guess himself. Birds never came this high... And they were never that big. Before he could stop himself, the biggest shit eating grin formed on his face, his eyes lighting up with an excited gleam. "ALL HANDS TO STATIONS!! DRAGON TO THE NORTH!! WHIP US AROUND WHEELMAN!!" He barked out with a tone of laughter. His hands were already fixing themselves around the handle of his battle axe as he pulled it free from its resting spit on his back. The metal axehead caught the afternoon sun as he spun it in his palm, getting a feel for its familiar weight. "READY THE CROSS BOW!! LOAD THE NETS!!" He bellowed out as he rushed expertly past the rushing crew mates. Some took up their places along the rails, others disappeared downstairs as they fed more fuel to the furnace. Like a mechanical beast of hell, the engine picked up in speed and sound, the wings of the airship now beating down harder as the ship rocketed ahead after the small shape on the horizon. Steam poured from the outlets along the ships sides, leaving two long thick lines of white painted against the sky as they closed in on their target. "READY!! AIM-!!" Lorcan raised a hand as they approached. He could see it now. It was huge. A large dragon with brilliant blue scales along its body. His smile only widened. Lorcan was much more accustomed to the red or green variants of the beasts, so this deep blue that caught the sun like a dangerous sea of water was a pleasant surprise. Good things come to those who wait, he supposed. "FIRE!!" He roared as he swung his arm down, and all at once, the crew fell into action. |
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Lightbringer
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Elise Rysar/ 19/ F/ Rider/
Elise and Ragnar patrolled the skies for what Ragnar complained were hours. The female knew they had only been in the skies for at least two hours, if not more. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. Like everything just disappeared. Perhaps the warning was true; the hunters were back. Not even the actual birds were in sight.
Elise shivered with a sense of foreboding. She knew something was up, and yet here she is with only one weapon. Her dagger. She could’ve brought more if she knew there was going to be this strange sense of something, but she can’t see the future.
“You feel it too?” She asked her dragon carefully, her eyes scanning the skies and the land and sea below. Something was indeed not right. Perhaps it was just the hour of the day; everyone was doing their own things, and the birds were probably doing bird things in their homes. But the last time she felt like this — No. She wasn’t going to think about it.
Ragnar growled deep and menacing, as a beast provoked. “Glad I am not the only one who feels like this, care to take a stroll?” He asked, though Elise knew she didn’t have a choice. He always did what he wanted. Hence, why they get along so well, Elise is known for her stubbornness when it comes to something she has her mind set on. But sometimes, she will differ. Ragnar was the same, though he never changed his mind, no matter what.
“Something in front of us,” Ragnar informed. Elise strained her eyes trying to see what the hell was in front of them. She then saw something in the distance. It was massive, with wings on the side? “Is that another dragon?” She asked, but she couldn’t tell what the hell it was. “No, they feel different. Those are not real wings.” Elise rolled her eyes and snorted in annoyance as she said, “Remind me to figure out how to get better eyesight, I can’t even see if those are real wings or not —”
Something fired at them. Ragnar roared as he tucked in his wings and sent the two of them plummeting to the ground, to their deaths. ‘What the hell?’ she growled in her mind, ‘who the fuck are they?’ She screamed as they neared the land below, "RAGNAR!” She cried out. She didn’t want to die, not like this. He leveled out his wings and sent the two of them soaring low in the sky, very, very close to the ground. “There is an arrow in my back. Pull it out.” Ragnar demanded.
Shit, an arrow? Elise took this to her advantage and quickly stood on his back, making sure to keep her balance as they were indeed still flying. She ran and didn't want to waste a second. She whispered a prayer, hoping whoever listened heard her. If she were to die, she wanted her family to be safe. She reached the arrow, which was lodged in one of his massive spikes that decorated his butt to his tail, “It’s going to hurt—” “JUST GET THE DAMN THING OUT OF MY BUTT!” He roared with impatience. Elise grabbed the end of the arrow and tugged as hard as she could; the weapon came out clean and slick with his blood. The arrow was familiar, the same arrowhead etched with that swirly symbol.
Dragon Hunters. “They’re here. . .” Elise whispered as she quickly ran back to where she sat, which was at his shoulder blades, before his long neck. “Who’s here?” Ragnar was curious, though his impatience was evident through the bond. He was full of it. “Dragon Hunters, they’re here.” She informed him. Ragnar pumped his large, massive blue wings higher into the sky, leveling him out with the airship. I knew it was an airship; they always were in one. The bastards can’t even arrive at something scarier. The familiar rumble of the engine caught up to her. “You still know how to breathe fire?” She quietly said, focusing her eyes on the ship that was coming closer to them. “I’m a dragon, am I not?” He snipped out. “Then scorch the fuck out of that ship,” I ordered. |
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Lorcan Einar | Dragon Hunter | 21 | M Lorcan watched with twisted satisfaction as the blue dragon dove down out of sight from their ship, but not before one of the crews arrows landed its mark. He could feel the adrenaline already beginning to pump through his veins. But... What was that ungodly noise? Was that just the dragons roar? It almost sounded like... A person's voice? But that was impossible. It had a feminine edge, but all of their crew were men from the hunters village. He scoffed a little. Not that it said much, but he could recall multiple occasions where they had let out girlier screams. "RELOAD!! REMAIN STEADY!! WAIT FOR MY CUE!!" Lorcan bellowed as the rest of the hunters responded with a unified "SIR!" These moments were the only time the crew found Lorcan to be... Tolerable to be around. With the rush and thrill of the hunt and the quick thinking needed to react, he didnt have much time for snapping at them for the smallest things. He almost seemed excited, still tense all over yet also relaxed as well. He was in his element up here, sailing through the skies and proving that dragons weren't the kings of the infinitely expanding space... It was HIM. The sun reflected from the horned crown he wore as he eagerly glanced over the side of the ship, just in time to see the dragon swoop up after recovering from the sudden attack by their ship. But. The shit eating grin was quickly wiped from his face as the blue dragon turned its head to their ship. "Ah shit- COVER!!" He shouted in alarm as he reeled back, narrowly diving behind some of the water storage barrels as flames then rained down upon the ship. The heat was excruciating, making the air hard to breath as the ship groaned in protest. He could hear the distressed calls of his men as a few were caught by the blast. Shit. He was usually more attentive of those signs.. The subtle glow, the depth of the growls... He'd completely overlooked them in his momentary giddiness at finally finding a dragon to hunt after all these days. Dammit. He risked a glance around the barrels, seeing the torrent of flames had ceased. Flames licked at the balloon from the ships deck, a few of his men now motionless and charred bundles on the ground. He gritted his teeth, seeing how the rest were still waiting for his orders. Lorcan's gaze drifted over each man... The slight tremors in their hands. The wideness of their eyes. The paleness in their complexion. They were scared shitless. "Curse the Divines... This is why I dont bring rookies along." Lorcan grumbled irritably as he got up, using his axe to quickly snag the rope securing the water barrels. "TEND TO THE FLAMES!! PUT THEM OUT QUICKLY!! YOU TWO, READY THE CROSSBOW BOLT!" Lorcan shouted as he firmly kicked a couple barrels across the deck, hacking his axe into one as water sloshed through the break and washed out over the deck, dousing some of the flames with a sizzle. His red eyes tracked the other two hunters as they disappeared below deck to ready the crossbow. The two hatch doors on the front of the ship gave a sharp CLICK before the chains began to slowly run their track, opening the doors to reveal the giant weapon. The second Lorcan heard the click, he bolted for the back of the ship, grabbing control of the ships steering as he whipped the wheel around sharply, causing the wings on the ship to stutter momentarily. The bow of the ship began to angle towards the dragon, and by the gods, Lorcan thought perhaps, maybe, he too had died in those flames. Because as the ship faced down with the monstrous winged beast, his gaze was fixed not on its scaled form, but on the one settled upon it. A person. A woman. His gaze widened for a split moment. 'This isn't right. Dragons would never allow humans so close like this... Perhaps an illusion? No... Then the arrow wouldnt hve landed. Maybe it's enslaved to her...?' Lorcan's mind was racing for a logical explanation his fingers curling around the lever that would fire the crossbow and send this... This... Abomination to hell. They didnt have time to hesitate. No time to think. Because if they messed up now, more lives would be lost. Lorcan's widened eyes quickly narrowed as his entire expression shifted to that of a hate induced snarl, the rage practically glowing within his pinkish red eyes. "TELL YOUR CREATOR I SAY HELLO~!!" He shouted, his voice a thunderous bellow as he yanked on the lever. But as the bolt was let loose, Lorcan's expression faltered as he realized all too late the mistake he'd made. The ships wheel was still set to a sharp turn, meaning one side of the ships wings had been forced to still. Too long he'd been letting it turn, and now as the ship turned further, the bolt sailed past with a decent width of space from the dragon... A complete miss. He was never one quick to feel fear or anxiety. But in that moment he was petrified. He had missed his only shot. He may as well have chopped the heads of each of his crew mates himself... He missed. How could he have missed...?! He had gone through this routine so many times before, but now, seeing this dragon that was likely about to decimate his entire ship and everyone aboard, knowing his mistake may have just cost them everything... Something he felt stronger began to surface. Guilt, tinged with humiliation. "...no..." The word was breathed out, barely more than a whisper as he finally allowed himself to be hit by the reality of what he'd done. He gripped his axe tighter, crouching to a slight defensive stance as he watched for the dragons next move, the rest of his men readying their own weapons. A few were equipped with longer ranged weapons. A few spears, some bows. The others had axes and swords, like Lorcan. Despite the position of their hunts, sometimes those close ranged weapons could be used for more than just combat alone. It took a creative mind to unlock their full potential. He could throw it... Aim for the dragons neck. But it it bounced off or missed, he'd be without his weapon. And like hell he was asking the crew to borrow. He turned to the others, slamming his hands down on the top railing. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE!! FIRE!! RELOAD THE CROSSBOW!! DO SOMETHING!!" |
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Lightbringer
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Elise Rysar/ 19/ F/ Rider? The ship caught fire when Ragnar belched flames from his mouth, but it was not enough to bring down the ship. Shit. “What’s the plan?” Elise said quickly, she had not fought one of these hunters in a bit, let alone a whole ass group of them. “Like we always do, be on our guard. We don’t know where they plan to strike.” Ragnar circled the ship like it was his next meal, his large, sharp, glistening teeth bared into a menacing grin. His nostrils were flared. . . he was pissed. Really, really pissed. “There are only a few of them left. I want to try something new–” “No,” Ragnar growled through the bond. What the hell? Since when was he so protective? She scoffed in annoyance, though she unsheathed her dagger from its hold on her side, she was prepared for what was to come. Especially her plan. “Do you want to win this goddamn fight?” She said through clenched teeth. She was breathing hard, her heart racing. She was scared shitless, but she was also fierce and strong. She could do this; in fact, she can do this. Ragnar did not respond to her, which earned a smug grin from the female. “That’s what I thought, get me close enough to the ship so I can jump.” This plan will work. It had to. Surprisingly, he did not object; he ducked below the ship and flew to the other side, rising into the air higher. Once she was leveled with the ship as he was climbing into the air, she jumped. Landing inside, she was near the barrels, hiding behind one; she took in her surroundings. Elise noted a few men battling what was left of Ragnar’s flames; two others were at what she assumed were the crossbows that were shooting those arrows. And then there was that man, barking orders to the men like they were his pets. His skin was dark, hair even darker. But what laid atop his head made her freeze. Dragon Horns. The reddish hue to the horns was familiar, like it belonged to a dragon she used to see. Until the last great battle. She refused to believe it could be that dragon's horns, she took the rest of him in. He was wearing baggy cargo pants and a t-shirt. Dressed casually for a hunter. But there was this cruel wickedness to his stature. He must be their leader, hence why he’s bossing them around. Elise scoffed. It’s pathetic how he stands there half the time, not even helping. Perhaps that’s what leaders do. Ragnar was doing a hell of a job distracting them; he kept them on their toes. He swirled around the ship, flew higher into the sky, then dropped low. When he passed by, he would bellow out a puff of steam. His next fire will be soon, which means she needs to hurry the fuck up. “Indeed, you do. I’m done playing with them. I want to fight.” He grumbled into our bond. Such a poor dramatic dragon. She silently made my way to the guy closer to me, who was getting the last of the flames. She tightly held my dagger, getting ready for the blow. Once the guy turned around to go to one of the crossbows, she struck. It didn’t take long to take him down. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tugged him behind the barrels. She was not ready to show my face to these men. Not yet. I laughed cruelly, “How should we do this, hm? The fast way or the slow and painful way?” I whispered quickly into his ear. She didn’t have much time; Ragnar’s impatience consumed her own emotions. He shivered under her touch, his lips trembling. “I - I. . . HELP!” The man screamed. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! They no doubt heard his yelp. She grabbed her dagger and tugged the man closer to her, his head against her chest, his face facing the ship. She took her dagger and placed the cool metal on his neck, slicing it. She then let go of him, letting him fall limp to the floor. One down, so many more to go. |
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Fall Month: 1 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
