Atzar
05-04-07, 02:52 AM
Name: Atzar Kellon
Age: 19
Race: Human
Hair Color: Black and a little longer than shoulder-length.
Eye Color: Varies randomly from light to deep blue.
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 165 lbs.
Occupation: Mage
Personality: Atzar is generally very docile and prefers to spend his time studying magic. It takes a fair amount to anger him, and even when angry he usually doesn’t stray too far from his senses. He has a decent sense of humor and enjoys talking and laughing with friends. He does, however, have a strong sense of what he believes is right. To this end, the mage will frequently intervene in an argument on the “good side’s” behalf if he considers it to be important enough. He has an adventurous spirit, and he'd never turn down a friendly game of Charms or a good exploration.
Recently, however, things in his life have take a turn for the worse, and it’s beginning to show. Atzar smiles much less frequently now, and he always seems preoccupied.
Appearance: In the eyes of a stranger, Atzar is a tall, youthful man with a slender build. His hair is nearly always pulled back and held in a ponytail, and his eyes are very unique. Their color shifts suddenly and randomly, varying from light blue to dark blue to purple. While he is not exactly weak, Atzar is unaccustomed to physical exercise and is not terribly muscular. Were he to take his shirt off, one could see a large birthmark of no apparent shape on the back of his left shoulder.
History:
The snow swirled gently to the ground, filling the outdoors with sound of silence. But that was to be expected at this time of year: while the climate wasn’t as harsh as that of the Jagged Mountains, the smaller Comb Mountains still weren’t particularly friendly in the middle of winter. The Tel’Han monks, however, were as indifferent to the weather as ever. The pursuit of knowledge was their greatest calling, and no meager snowstorm was going to stop that.
The Tel’Han monks were a very private group. Their population never exceeded a couple hundred, and every single one of them studied the art of magic ceaselessly. Each was always trying to outlearn the others and earn a place on the Council, a select group that was made up of the four strongest mages in the village. Even at the moment, one such man by the name of Atzar sat in his house, deep in concentration, working towards his goal to be strong and earn a place of his own.
The young man sat motionless on the floor, his eyes closed and his hands clasped in front of him. On the small wooden table in front of him lay an odd assortment of objects. On the far left, a lit candle burned, its flame flicking merrily in the darkness of the room. Next to it lay a small clay bowl, filled with a small amount of water that glimmered whenever the light from the fire caught it right. Third in line lay a small rock, no bigger than his fist. And last, a snowball taken from outside rested, a puddle of water already forming as it slowly melted from the meager heat in the room.
It had been this way for many years now. Ever since he had reached the age of 12, Atzar had studied and practiced nearly daily. Like the others, he had a ceaseless desire to become powerful. Atzar fervently hoped that one day he would be adept at using all elements of natural magic.
Atzar’s hands slowly moved apart, and the candle at one end of the table began to sputter violently. Slowly, reluctantly, the flame rose off the end of the wick and hung motionless in the air, quickly settling back to the merry flicker it had before being disturbed. The practicing mage, however, wasn’t done. The flame shuddered again before splitting into two pieces, both floating easily in the air. As an end to the trick, the monk spun the two points of fire around each other before returning them to the end of their candle.
Almost immediately upon the flame’s return, the young man moved to the next exercise. The clay bowl rattled briefly on the table before the water ascended into the air. As he had done with the flame a moment before, Atzar split the ball of water in two and twirled them around a bit before returning them to their former position as the contents of the bowl.
Now came the part that he could never get. He focused with all of his power on the rock, trying to will it to rise off of the table. The rock shook a little in response to his efforts, but did not rise. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his hands began to shake.
After a few moments, Atzar sighed and let his hands drop to his sides. He just couldn’t deal with earth yet. With his low skill, all he could manage to do was control meager amounts of fire and water.
He leaned back until he was lying down on the floor. It just didn’t seem like anything was going right here recently. His training wasn’t progressing at any great rate like the case seemed to be with his fellow students, and he was falling further and further behind their power. Hell… it even seemed like sparring with the newer students was getting to be more and more of a challenge. Atzar was awaiting with dread the day that one of them managed to fight him to a standstill, or even beat him; he didn’t even want to think of the reputation that he would lose in such a humiliation. He wasn’t thought of very highly in Tel’Han anyway, and that would probably dispel any hopes that he would ever amount to anything in the village.
He decided that he would probably give up and move to Concordia with the bears if that ever happened.
Quite a bit has happened to Atzar since that time. In Tel’Han, Atzar battled Brugo in a game called “Charms.” Charms is a magical game in which players take control of miniature versions of themselves in various environments. This one in particular was a mountain of ice, and Atzar emerged victorious when he caused an avalanche to fall on Brugo’s head. He won a small stone imbued with fire magic from the battle, but he has since lost track of his prize.
After that, the mage journeyed to Radasanth. He had heard stories of the Citadel, and it sounded very similar to Charms. He decided to try it out, but soon regretted the decision when a dark woman named Witchblade destroyed him. He never even had a chance.
Upon returning to Tel’Han, Atzar journeyed down into a cave system underneath his hometown. He found the body of Ceran Tumultos, a renowned wanderer who had perished after trapping himself in a small alcove in an attempt to escape from a pack of goblins. While down there, Atzar met Zirkan, a pygmy dragon who helped him escape from the goblins himself. The little dragon has been his companion ever since.
Since that time, little in Atzar’s life has gone right. A Charms tournament took place in Tel’Han, and the mage participated with a group of friends that he met on the spot. Somebody, however, had removed the important enchantments from the table. Instead of being revived after the match was over, his opponents were dead. Atzar hasn’t coped with the guilt very well.
Skills:
Elemental Magic:
Fire Manipulation: “I refuse to use fire magic now. Ever since I used fire on Zain, I just haven’t been able to bring myself to use this brand of my magic. Right now, its strength is irrelevant. I can’t use it. I won’t use it.”
((Atzar cannot create fire. He can, however, control existing flames to some extent. At the current time, he can only control flames roughly the size of his fist for relatively short periods of time.))
(No improvement from level 1.)
Water Manipulation: “Eh, I haven’t practiced too much with water. As usual, I still don’t know how to create it. When I already have some of the stuff to work with, I can only move small amounts of it at a time. Besides, this type of magic seems… limited. There’s never I time that I can use it when something else won’t work better. I don’t know. Maybe I’m missing something here. We’ll see.”
(No improvement from level 1.)
Air Manipulation: “This is one of my favorite types of magic. It’s versatile, pretty powerful, and discreet. If I use it in battle, my opponents really have to focus to be able to see it coming at them. I’m learning to control it with speed and accuracy, and hey! There’s always air around me. It’s nice to have something this useful to fall back on. It still doesn’t do a thing to armor, though. I wonder if there’s a way to get around that…”
(Slight improvement from level 1.)
Ice Manipulation: “Ah, ice magic. I’m getting good with this one. I mean, it’s not surprising, seeing that the winter just passed… anyway, ice magic is strong now. I can move large amounts if I have to, but it’s usually better to stick to small things. You know… projectiles. With a strong shot, a chunk of ice can do some serious damage to just about anything. Too bad it won’t see much use, now that winter’s over…”
(Slight improvement from level 1.)
Plant Manipulation: “Oh, this is a new one. I’m just starting to get the hang of it. Basically, I can control plant life to a certain extent. I can make things grow bigger and faster than usual, and I can make it move a little bit. Vines are the best things for this. They’re long and pliable. Branches take a lot more effort, since they’re more rigid. It’s not heavy enough to be a projectile weapon, but it can be useful in some other ways. Holding things in place, for instance.”
(New skill.)
Equipment:
Simple clothing. No weapons.
Name: Zirkan
Age: Unknown
Race: Pygmy Dragon
Scale Color: Azure Blue
Eye Color: Azure Blue
Height: 1’ 11”
Weight: 45 lbs.
Personality: Zirkan has shown himself to be highly intelligent, aiding Atzar in his escape of the horde of goblins in the caves underneath Tel’Han. Despite this intelligence, the creature has no qualms whatsoever about having a petty insult war. Whether it’s witty or not, the dragon has an insult or comment for all but the most serious of situations. Zirkan has a good heart, however. He attacked and killed a goblin with no hesitation when it threatened Atzar.
Appearance: Zirkan is a dragon. His scales are blue. He has thick, sturdy legs and shorter arms, and both sport long claws. He has strong, leathery wings on his back, and a thick tail. His eyes are piercing blue, and he has a maw full of long, sharp teeth.
History: At the moment, Atzar knows nearly nothing about Zirkan’s past. As near as he could tell, Zirkan was asleep when Ceran Tumultos ran in to escape from the goblins and trapped them both there. The mage hasn’t learned anything else of the dragon’s story before that.
Skills:
He can fly, and can lift around 100 pounds despite his diminutive size. He has no magic - his only form of attack is his teeth and claws. He is immortal in the sense that he cannot ever completely die. However, he can be wounded, even to the point of death, and wounds must be "slept off" in order to heal - he doesn't heal on his own. Small cuts can be fixed in only a few hours, but a wound that might normally be considered 'lethal' would take days or even weeks to recover.
Zirkan seems to have grown a bit faster and more agile in the air since Atzar met him.
Age: 19
Race: Human
Hair Color: Black and a little longer than shoulder-length.
Eye Color: Varies randomly from light to deep blue.
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 165 lbs.
Occupation: Mage
Personality: Atzar is generally very docile and prefers to spend his time studying magic. It takes a fair amount to anger him, and even when angry he usually doesn’t stray too far from his senses. He has a decent sense of humor and enjoys talking and laughing with friends. He does, however, have a strong sense of what he believes is right. To this end, the mage will frequently intervene in an argument on the “good side’s” behalf if he considers it to be important enough. He has an adventurous spirit, and he'd never turn down a friendly game of Charms or a good exploration.
Recently, however, things in his life have take a turn for the worse, and it’s beginning to show. Atzar smiles much less frequently now, and he always seems preoccupied.
Appearance: In the eyes of a stranger, Atzar is a tall, youthful man with a slender build. His hair is nearly always pulled back and held in a ponytail, and his eyes are very unique. Their color shifts suddenly and randomly, varying from light blue to dark blue to purple. While he is not exactly weak, Atzar is unaccustomed to physical exercise and is not terribly muscular. Were he to take his shirt off, one could see a large birthmark of no apparent shape on the back of his left shoulder.
History:
The snow swirled gently to the ground, filling the outdoors with sound of silence. But that was to be expected at this time of year: while the climate wasn’t as harsh as that of the Jagged Mountains, the smaller Comb Mountains still weren’t particularly friendly in the middle of winter. The Tel’Han monks, however, were as indifferent to the weather as ever. The pursuit of knowledge was their greatest calling, and no meager snowstorm was going to stop that.
The Tel’Han monks were a very private group. Their population never exceeded a couple hundred, and every single one of them studied the art of magic ceaselessly. Each was always trying to outlearn the others and earn a place on the Council, a select group that was made up of the four strongest mages in the village. Even at the moment, one such man by the name of Atzar sat in his house, deep in concentration, working towards his goal to be strong and earn a place of his own.
The young man sat motionless on the floor, his eyes closed and his hands clasped in front of him. On the small wooden table in front of him lay an odd assortment of objects. On the far left, a lit candle burned, its flame flicking merrily in the darkness of the room. Next to it lay a small clay bowl, filled with a small amount of water that glimmered whenever the light from the fire caught it right. Third in line lay a small rock, no bigger than his fist. And last, a snowball taken from outside rested, a puddle of water already forming as it slowly melted from the meager heat in the room.
It had been this way for many years now. Ever since he had reached the age of 12, Atzar had studied and practiced nearly daily. Like the others, he had a ceaseless desire to become powerful. Atzar fervently hoped that one day he would be adept at using all elements of natural magic.
Atzar’s hands slowly moved apart, and the candle at one end of the table began to sputter violently. Slowly, reluctantly, the flame rose off the end of the wick and hung motionless in the air, quickly settling back to the merry flicker it had before being disturbed. The practicing mage, however, wasn’t done. The flame shuddered again before splitting into two pieces, both floating easily in the air. As an end to the trick, the monk spun the two points of fire around each other before returning them to the end of their candle.
Almost immediately upon the flame’s return, the young man moved to the next exercise. The clay bowl rattled briefly on the table before the water ascended into the air. As he had done with the flame a moment before, Atzar split the ball of water in two and twirled them around a bit before returning them to their former position as the contents of the bowl.
Now came the part that he could never get. He focused with all of his power on the rock, trying to will it to rise off of the table. The rock shook a little in response to his efforts, but did not rise. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his hands began to shake.
After a few moments, Atzar sighed and let his hands drop to his sides. He just couldn’t deal with earth yet. With his low skill, all he could manage to do was control meager amounts of fire and water.
He leaned back until he was lying down on the floor. It just didn’t seem like anything was going right here recently. His training wasn’t progressing at any great rate like the case seemed to be with his fellow students, and he was falling further and further behind their power. Hell… it even seemed like sparring with the newer students was getting to be more and more of a challenge. Atzar was awaiting with dread the day that one of them managed to fight him to a standstill, or even beat him; he didn’t even want to think of the reputation that he would lose in such a humiliation. He wasn’t thought of very highly in Tel’Han anyway, and that would probably dispel any hopes that he would ever amount to anything in the village.
He decided that he would probably give up and move to Concordia with the bears if that ever happened.
Quite a bit has happened to Atzar since that time. In Tel’Han, Atzar battled Brugo in a game called “Charms.” Charms is a magical game in which players take control of miniature versions of themselves in various environments. This one in particular was a mountain of ice, and Atzar emerged victorious when he caused an avalanche to fall on Brugo’s head. He won a small stone imbued with fire magic from the battle, but he has since lost track of his prize.
After that, the mage journeyed to Radasanth. He had heard stories of the Citadel, and it sounded very similar to Charms. He decided to try it out, but soon regretted the decision when a dark woman named Witchblade destroyed him. He never even had a chance.
Upon returning to Tel’Han, Atzar journeyed down into a cave system underneath his hometown. He found the body of Ceran Tumultos, a renowned wanderer who had perished after trapping himself in a small alcove in an attempt to escape from a pack of goblins. While down there, Atzar met Zirkan, a pygmy dragon who helped him escape from the goblins himself. The little dragon has been his companion ever since.
Since that time, little in Atzar’s life has gone right. A Charms tournament took place in Tel’Han, and the mage participated with a group of friends that he met on the spot. Somebody, however, had removed the important enchantments from the table. Instead of being revived after the match was over, his opponents were dead. Atzar hasn’t coped with the guilt very well.
Skills:
Elemental Magic:
Fire Manipulation: “I refuse to use fire magic now. Ever since I used fire on Zain, I just haven’t been able to bring myself to use this brand of my magic. Right now, its strength is irrelevant. I can’t use it. I won’t use it.”
((Atzar cannot create fire. He can, however, control existing flames to some extent. At the current time, he can only control flames roughly the size of his fist for relatively short periods of time.))
(No improvement from level 1.)
Water Manipulation: “Eh, I haven’t practiced too much with water. As usual, I still don’t know how to create it. When I already have some of the stuff to work with, I can only move small amounts of it at a time. Besides, this type of magic seems… limited. There’s never I time that I can use it when something else won’t work better. I don’t know. Maybe I’m missing something here. We’ll see.”
(No improvement from level 1.)
Air Manipulation: “This is one of my favorite types of magic. It’s versatile, pretty powerful, and discreet. If I use it in battle, my opponents really have to focus to be able to see it coming at them. I’m learning to control it with speed and accuracy, and hey! There’s always air around me. It’s nice to have something this useful to fall back on. It still doesn’t do a thing to armor, though. I wonder if there’s a way to get around that…”
(Slight improvement from level 1.)
Ice Manipulation: “Ah, ice magic. I’m getting good with this one. I mean, it’s not surprising, seeing that the winter just passed… anyway, ice magic is strong now. I can move large amounts if I have to, but it’s usually better to stick to small things. You know… projectiles. With a strong shot, a chunk of ice can do some serious damage to just about anything. Too bad it won’t see much use, now that winter’s over…”
(Slight improvement from level 1.)
Plant Manipulation: “Oh, this is a new one. I’m just starting to get the hang of it. Basically, I can control plant life to a certain extent. I can make things grow bigger and faster than usual, and I can make it move a little bit. Vines are the best things for this. They’re long and pliable. Branches take a lot more effort, since they’re more rigid. It’s not heavy enough to be a projectile weapon, but it can be useful in some other ways. Holding things in place, for instance.”
(New skill.)
Equipment:
Simple clothing. No weapons.
Name: Zirkan
Age: Unknown
Race: Pygmy Dragon
Scale Color: Azure Blue
Eye Color: Azure Blue
Height: 1’ 11”
Weight: 45 lbs.
Personality: Zirkan has shown himself to be highly intelligent, aiding Atzar in his escape of the horde of goblins in the caves underneath Tel’Han. Despite this intelligence, the creature has no qualms whatsoever about having a petty insult war. Whether it’s witty or not, the dragon has an insult or comment for all but the most serious of situations. Zirkan has a good heart, however. He attacked and killed a goblin with no hesitation when it threatened Atzar.
Appearance: Zirkan is a dragon. His scales are blue. He has thick, sturdy legs and shorter arms, and both sport long claws. He has strong, leathery wings on his back, and a thick tail. His eyes are piercing blue, and he has a maw full of long, sharp teeth.
History: At the moment, Atzar knows nearly nothing about Zirkan’s past. As near as he could tell, Zirkan was asleep when Ceran Tumultos ran in to escape from the goblins and trapped them both there. The mage hasn’t learned anything else of the dragon’s story before that.
Skills:
He can fly, and can lift around 100 pounds despite his diminutive size. He has no magic - his only form of attack is his teeth and claws. He is immortal in the sense that he cannot ever completely die. However, he can be wounded, even to the point of death, and wounds must be "slept off" in order to heal - he doesn't heal on his own. Small cuts can be fixed in only a few hours, but a wound that might normally be considered 'lethal' would take days or even weeks to recover.
Zirkan seems to have grown a bit faster and more agile in the air since Atzar met him.