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User Information
Same as Glass' application ^-^ tis Yanwe, here.
Character Information:
Name: Namir ((‘Swift Cat’ in Persian.))
Alias: He prefers just plain Namir, but he has been called the, ‘Statue on the Mountain’.
Gender: Male.
Age: 824, 284. Exact, to the day. He is careful to keep track.
Race: Brass Dragon. ((I need to get used to Namir. Keep calling him a bronze dragon…))
Allegiance: Bryte.
Region: Originally from Odin, though he now lives in his cave by Manwe, occasionally travelling around for a change of scenery.
Weapons:
Claws, fangs, eyes, ears, and, chiefly, his mind.
Occupation:
Dragon representative in the High Council.
Powers:
Mostly his mind, but he has other powers, ones that are characteristic of brass dragons. These dragon powers are as follows: ((altered slightly from the dragon description page.))
Suggestion – Namir can use his persuasive powers to generate some control over another creature.
Control wind – Because of his age, Namir has a good range of power over the winds.
Control weather – Again thanks to his age, Namir can control local weather, ‘local’ translating to a moderately small area around his current position.
He rarely uses these gifts, and, though he once enjoyed using them, he now despises them and insists that “my little brain can work perfectly well on it’s own, without these annoying little ‘extras’”.
Description:
Namir’s scales are coloured pure brass, as they have had quite a number of years to become that colour. He is small for a dragon, and as a result, he is quite quick and agile, though slightly rotund. His claws, though a little on the short side, are sharp, as are his many teeth. He is the owner of a dextrous tongue, which he uses to talk a good amount in many different languages, and to collect dew. The back of his head and upper neck are protected by a plate growing from his head, rather like that of a triceratops ((or so I would imagine…)). His tail is slightly stubby, though still of considerable length, and he usually trips over it in his frequent bouts of excitement. During these times, he tends to bounce and hop around in pure delight. These periods most often come to a halt when he has fallen over his own tail too many times to stand up. Other signs of great joy are held in his eyes. Though they are normally a moderately-dull gold, they twinkle with pleasure, just about the only way to guess his emotions if he chooses to refrain from bouncing. Surprisingly magnificent wings sprout from his back, a great contrast to the rest of his slightly comical appearance.
Personality:
Namir, though having quite a brilliant mind, can be slightly eccentric. He become excited extremely easily, and has done many foolish things under various pretences. This gives him the pretext of being ‘a tad wanting in the top-story’, and moderately disguises his genius. He tends to notice small details that others may miss, and pieces them together quite well. Though he is good at many things, modesty is not one of them. He voices the wonderful acts of his brain with great dignity and pride. Nothing deters him from doing so, not even if no one happens to be listening to his recollections. Also, he can be rather stubborn. He refuses to elaborate his deeds that appear comical, insisting that their thought-origin shall be revealed in time, and that he is most certainly not mad. Another item to note, is his power to hate. If he hates something or someone, he hates it/them fiercely. Upon any mention of it/them, he snaps something like, “Do not speak of that.” Then, he takes a deep breath and changes the subject in a forcedly-casual tone. However, he has a pure hatred for murks, though even when talking to them he can keep that forcedly-casual tone. Namir is purely on the side of the brytes, and that is absolute fact. Though his hatred is intense, he keeps it inward for the most part and has not intention to charge off into a war – if a war did come about, he would move to a safe place where he could secretly watch, but not participate in fighting. He can be slightly fatherly when called to be so, but has no intention of actually being a father. Something else to note about Namir is his tendency to make quick decisions. He is not one to laze around trying to decide something – if he is sure that he has to do something, by all means he shall do it.
History:
As all dragons are, save for unusual circumstances, Namir was hatched from an egg. From there, he had a rather cheerful and peaceful up-bringing. His parents taught Namir and his siblings powers that are characteristic to Brass dragons. He excelled at these powers, and made sure that everyone knew it. Soon his younger siblings were begging him to teach them how he did what he did, and his older siblings were keeping a dignified silence. They resented young Namir for bettering them at the powers. However, it was soon time that they left their family and moved somewhere else. Namir was never to hear from them again. Then, the day came for him to leave his parents and younger siblings, and venture out into the world. All on his own for the first time in his life.
At first, he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Sure he was excellent at Brass dragon powers, but what on earth could he do with them? How could he get an occupation from them? The idea of being owned by a Dragon Rider most certainly did not appeal to him, and the thought of that was quickly brushed out of his mind. He didn’t want to be owned by anyone – that was a start. So if he didn’t want that, what did he want? A peaceful job, perhaps. One where he would have plenty of leisure time … no. That was just living in a dream. Who on earth had a job like that? Well … if that wasn’t possible, and it most certainly wasn’t, then he might as well have a job that he liked. But that just about brought him back to where his thoughts had started – what could he do?
He travelled to many places, in search of a job that he would enjoy doing. He attempted to be a barbarian, living in Rune. Then, a rogue, moving about Manwe, Linwe and Syn. He didn’t stay long in the latter – the many bones of those in his race scared him away. Then he turned to magical occupations – as a mage on the mountains of Odin, a witchhunter in Gryne, and a sorcerer in Tuke. The weary dragon turned to two final jobs – as a monk in Foxfire and a bard in Arionette, before giving up on his wild-goose-chase.
By now he had been to every country in Aersralm. He had seen many different beings, and lived around them. Every horrid place on the map had had Namir as a short-term visitor. Not a single lovely place was without his footprints. Now he was back where he had started, though with considerable extra knowledge. Where would he settle? What would he do?
Finally, he made up his mind to set off to where people, elves and arions gathered. He couldn’t live the life of a lone dragon, and he was beginning to grudgingly accept his destiny as a ‘pet’. So, finally reaching the great city of Manwe, he resigned himself to the worst. Beings walking in the streets were staring at him. Some looked horrified, but others, -he guessed that these were tradesmen or Dragon Riders- seemed to be eyeing him with expert eyes. Several of the latter fought through the crowd to reach him and, his animal instinct taking over, he bounded away from them.
Where would his pursuits leave him? Where would they follow? He did the only thing he could think of – fled to a steep mountain. At it’s base, he glanced back at the beings, who were beginning to tire, but showing no signs of stopping. Majestic wings unfurled, and then flapped hard, whilst Namir gave a little hop. Soon he was soaring through the air, high up towards the mountain top. Landing near the top, on a ledge that jutted out from the steep cliff, he peered into a cave just off the ledge. It was a rather cozy little cave –little to him, gigantic to, say, an elf- and after exploring it’s insides, he moved back to the ledge, where he could view almost the entire city from his perch. It was in that cave that he spent many centuries improving his magical skills, using his perch as a place to take breaks and regain his strength.
One day, when he was in the middle of taking a break from practicing his control over wind –he had felt that a break to clear his head was necessary; beings down below in the city were beginning to look frightened at the sudden gales that kept appearing- he began to ponder his magic. What on earth was he practicing it for? What would he do with it? He was going nowhere just by improving his skills. He needed to DO something. Twitching with rage at himself, he gazed down below. The sight of everyone going about their business calmed him. He loved to watch the beings. They appeared ants to him from his height, and they scurried about frantically, and constantly day-in-and-day-out. Sometimes their antics made him smile, other times they made him frown deeply in disapproval. However, observing them with his eagle-eyes always gave him a source of comfort and peace. He could spend hours at a time simply peering down below, occasionally squinting to make out their movements. A soft breeze played around him, adding to the perfection of the moment. For it was perfect. Any time he was simply watching was perfect. It was such a great contrast to the strain of working magic.
Around this time, Namir took the time to think about the High Council. He had known of the Council, Skadi the High Priestess, and the Dawn Hunter since day one, but it had never really occurred to him to think about this Council – the Council was just there. Something normal. But now his mind was slowly filling itself with questions. What was the job of those in the Council? Did they have regular meetings? He answered the latter quickly – surely as a Council, a group, they would have meetings. Not necessarily regular, but still meetings. Back to the queries. How many members would they have? One or more than one per species? What would they discuss? Who else, if anyone would attend meetings, perhaps as a guest or guests? How would ideas or suggestions be decided? By vote?
His head now swimming with questions, he made up his mind to take a little trip to find this Council. Without bothering to make any preparations, he leapt off of the edge of his cave’s mountain, flapping his wings with great energy. Amazingly enough, his speedy flaps stayed consistent for quite awhile. However, Namir tires physically just like everyone else, and he was forced to stop and rest long before he tired mentally. He moved on very well, though he had absolutely no idea where he was going – the experience greatly reminded him of his early centuries alone, where he did not know where to go or what to be. Now he realized that for all the work he had done, he was not much better off than when he had started. He felt that the journey would do him good, optimistic mentality persisted for quite a time.
At last, when he was beginning to become weary, he had the fortunate event of meeting Skadi herself on a mountain where he had stopped for a rest. They exchanged words, and he found that he liked the High Priestess’ company very much. Though Skadi was quite adept at magic, time with her did not motivate him to work harder at his own magic. Instead, he felt even surer that the course of magic was not for him. What he really loved was observing. He exercised his brain when he just sat comfortably and watched beings go on with their daily activities. The latter improved his mentality greatly. Soon, he decided to return to his mountain, feeling energized about his experience. Some would think that there was absolutely no point in this journey, but he knew that there was. He had learned something. Anything was worth doing if he could only learn something.
Upon arriving back at his cave, he promptly settled himself in a comfortable position at his perch. There, he spent many hours resting and watching. He was exhausted physically after his trip, though his brain was simply bursting out of his skull with joy and energy. He spent about a year there, enjoying himself leisurely, when news was brought to him that he was in the running for a position at the Council. The latter members had apparently heard of his great wisdom, as had the beings below who referred to him as the ‘Statue on the Mountain’. For he appeared a great carving of bronze from below, where he was only just visible looking downwards. Typically, his eyes twinkled gold, and he gave little bounces, only just managing not to life his feet off of the ground. He waited with bated breath for the Council to decide whether he ought to be appointed or not, continually having to remind himself that it was not likely and he should not get his hopes up. After some time, the news reached him – he had been accepted. The dragon literally leapt around the cave, nearly fell into the city below, and felt quite proud of himself, as only Namir could. From there, he returned to his happy gazing in his cave, constantly looking forward to upcoming Council meetings. For what better place -besides a cave overlooking a city- than a meeting to watch the reactions of all kinds of beings?
Other:
-Namir is on the border line of being afraid of dust. He needs items to be perfectly spotless, and keeps a scarf tied around his neck, which he uses to wipe down anything dusty.
Sample Role Play:
((Yanwe had one of her little ideas again X3 here goes:
What if Skadi or Namir started a thread, and role-played their meeting mentioned in Namir’s history? Then you could see how I RP Namir, and, hopefully, have a lot of fun role-playing at the same time. If this particular idea of Yanwe doesn’t appeal to you, then Yanwe shall scurry off and write a sample role-play to insert here.))
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Namir, Dragon and High Council Member
