Dagon
Currently championing: Reszo
- Basics
- Profile
- Threadlog
- Magic & Items
- Extras
- Trials
- OOC
[ Mix of: ]
N/A
Standing 19hh, he's an intimidating mass with longhorn steer horns that stretch outward from his skull. He has a thick neck to carry the massive horns. His coat is a deep sooty blood bay with a white topline and face. Black markings paint his eyes and nostrils. His white mane is sometimes in tangles and braids, or can be seen hanging free to his knees, while his black tail drags the ground. He usually has small bones and Raven skulls around his neck and front legs, and wears a sabertooth skull on his crown, as well as a black lion pelt in the winter months.
Focused, loyal, manipulative, blunt, over-analyzer, proud, cold, brutal. These are all words that have been used to describe me, and they are all the nicer ones. Less flattering ones (at least deemed so by others) would be formidable, intimidating, sarcastic, an asshole. Maybe even a little sadistic, masochistic, things like that. Of course, what others say don't mean shit to me and quite honestly, others are going to think what they think because like assholes, everyone has an opinion. I am focused, loyal, manipulative, blunt, proud, cold, brutal and I over-analyze things on a daily basis. I tend to think out every possible outcome of each decision I make. I watch things unfold in my head before I act to know which outcome I want. I am manipulative, blunt and brutal. I'm going to tell you exactly what I think about you, use it against you and then make sure I break you down bit by bit until i leave you bare with only your fears to keep you alive. I am a vision of your nightmare, I am the boogeyman. I am what goes bump in the night. And gods help you, if you piss me off.
I died.
The last thing I remember just as my last breath left my lips was her name that followed and the final blow that ended my life. It was a life that had been programmed and brainwashed from the beginning to listen and do without questioning the elders. I was born into a family of assassins. My birth was one that was highly anticipated as my parents were arranged to mate due to their compatibility rather than anything like love or intimacy. That sort of thing didn't exist in my world. I was raised to believe in do, don't ask, just do. I was raised to believe, "It is," not "It's how it always was." Why kill? "To protect and preserve." Why? "It is our way." These questions were asked and the answers were given but nothing more. Training, tireless training would follow and soon - I was too exhausted for questions. I was trained in the art of combat, stealth, and how to end a beast swiftly, painfully only after torturing them to the point of them begging for an end.
By maturity, I had a reputation, a killing machine driven by commands directly from our gods. As I grew, my pelt faded to a deep crimson color that those who watched would swear it was the blood of my victims, giving me a more formidable appearance. I mastered every level of training I faced until the Elders didn't know what to do with me. After completing the games where we battled one another to earn the title for high assassin, I was given a petrified sabertooth skull. During one of my legendary fights, I engaged a foul beast, large mass of mane, claws and canines. The cave lion could have easily overpowered me, but motivated, driven and determined, I swiftly fought the beast, earning scars and injuries proudly. The lion leapt for my jugular, determined to end my life once and for all. Latching onto my neck, the Lion's canines sank deep into the crimson pelt. But I would not go down easy. In one swift movement, I brought my skull'd head down onto the beast, stabbing a marbleized tooth into the Lion's cranium. The Lion jerked away in an attempt to free himself, breaking off the tip of the canine in the sabertooth skull. The Lion soon died. Dagon, injured, managed to get back to his homeland where his wounds were tended. By sheer miracle, he survived. After that, there was nothing I couldn't accomplish. Until they decided to stick me with a young trainee that they intended on bringing into the fold. She didn't come from the same background. In fact, her parents were healers, low on the totem as it were. She came from the harvest, an annual event held when new recruits were needed to fill the gaps of those that had fallen in the line of duty. She was one of them. She was three years my senior when I started training her. I was five, her... she was but a two year old and a lanky thing. But beautiful. She was a natural. At first, I treated her professionally. I made sure to have her train like I did. She started asking questions but I answered them as I was trained too.
And then she was called.
We were assigned the same missions. I refused to leave her side as her mentor. They warned me that I would develop feelings for her. I refused to believe them. The warned me that she would make me soft. Impossible. I wouldn't happen to me.
All of our assignments brought us closer. Over the next few years, we fell into each other, we started relying on one another rather than the elders like we were supposed too. This opened our eyes to their manipulation and abuse. We started noticing who we were sent to kill, why, started asking questions. This all put us on their radar.
By Age ten, my body a shelf of my trophies won from my many fights, my charge and I gained a reputation as dangerous, formidable figures created from the very nightmares dreamt across the world. We were inseparable. Until an elder demanded we break off the partnership and assigned new mates for us for the sake of bloodlines. Not at all keen on the idea, we abandoned the order and sought refuge away from our home. But it was not to be. We would not get our happily ever after. Having been followed, we were attacked by the other trained assassins of the herd. Their intent would be executing my love, but I would have none of it. I fought valiantly, only to fall under the sharpened hooves of my opponents. They left me to die as a traitor to my kind, bleeding out on my last battlefield.
I died.
But I was summoned and brought back to walk as a demon on this land. I was gifted with long, thick horns that extended outward from my skull, sharpened and designed to maul and maim. I had every intention of getting my revenge for those that murdered my mate, and myself. I wandered the world, invisible to the mortal eye. Unless they were on my list and only when they were taking their last breath.
The last thing I remember just as my last breath left my lips was her name that followed and the final blow that ended my life. It was a life that had been programmed and brainwashed from the beginning to listen and do without questioning the elders. I was born into a family of assassins. My birth was one that was highly anticipated as my parents were arranged to mate due to their compatibility rather than anything like love or intimacy. That sort of thing didn't exist in my world. I was raised to believe in do, don't ask, just do. I was raised to believe, "It is," not "It's how it always was." Why kill? "To protect and preserve." Why? "It is our way." These questions were asked and the answers were given but nothing more. Training, tireless training would follow and soon - I was too exhausted for questions. I was trained in the art of combat, stealth, and how to end a beast swiftly, painfully only after torturing them to the point of them begging for an end.
By maturity, I had a reputation, a killing machine driven by commands directly from our gods. As I grew, my pelt faded to a deep crimson color that those who watched would swear it was the blood of my victims, giving me a more formidable appearance. I mastered every level of training I faced until the Elders didn't know what to do with me. After completing the games where we battled one another to earn the title for high assassin, I was given a petrified sabertooth skull. During one of my legendary fights, I engaged a foul beast, large mass of mane, claws and canines. The cave lion could have easily overpowered me, but motivated, driven and determined, I swiftly fought the beast, earning scars and injuries proudly. The lion leapt for my jugular, determined to end my life once and for all. Latching onto my neck, the Lion's canines sank deep into the crimson pelt. But I would not go down easy. In one swift movement, I brought my skull'd head down onto the beast, stabbing a marbleized tooth into the Lion's cranium. The Lion jerked away in an attempt to free himself, breaking off the tip of the canine in the sabertooth skull. The Lion soon died. Dagon, injured, managed to get back to his homeland where his wounds were tended. By sheer miracle, he survived. After that, there was nothing I couldn't accomplish. Until they decided to stick me with a young trainee that they intended on bringing into the fold. She didn't come from the same background. In fact, her parents were healers, low on the totem as it were. She came from the harvest, an annual event held when new recruits were needed to fill the gaps of those that had fallen in the line of duty. She was one of them. She was three years my senior when I started training her. I was five, her... she was but a two year old and a lanky thing. But beautiful. She was a natural. At first, I treated her professionally. I made sure to have her train like I did. She started asking questions but I answered them as I was trained too.
And then she was called.
We were assigned the same missions. I refused to leave her side as her mentor. They warned me that I would develop feelings for her. I refused to believe them. The warned me that she would make me soft. Impossible. I wouldn't happen to me.
All of our assignments brought us closer. Over the next few years, we fell into each other, we started relying on one another rather than the elders like we were supposed too. This opened our eyes to their manipulation and abuse. We started noticing who we were sent to kill, why, started asking questions. This all put us on their radar.
By Age ten, my body a shelf of my trophies won from my many fights, my charge and I gained a reputation as dangerous, formidable figures created from the very nightmares dreamt across the world. We were inseparable. Until an elder demanded we break off the partnership and assigned new mates for us for the sake of bloodlines. Not at all keen on the idea, we abandoned the order and sought refuge away from our home. But it was not to be. We would not get our happily ever after. Having been followed, we were attacked by the other trained assassins of the herd. Their intent would be executing my love, but I would have none of it. I fought valiantly, only to fall under the sharpened hooves of my opponents. They left me to die as a traitor to my kind, bleeding out on my last battlefield.
I died.
But I was summoned and brought back to walk as a demon on this land. I was gifted with long, thick horns that extended outward from my skull, sharpened and designed to maul and maim. I had every intention of getting my revenge for those that murdered my mate, and myself. I wandered the world, invisible to the mortal eye. Unless they were on my list and only when they were taking their last breath.
Animal bone necklace w/Raven skulls
Animal bone Bangle
Saber tooth Skull
Black Lion Pelt
Animal bone Bangle
Saber tooth Skull
Black Lion Pelt
Threadlog 1 thread |
|||
Active Threads | |||
Subject | Location | Participants | Last Post [ Order By ] |
This character does not have any active threads. | |||
Archived Threads | |||
Subject | Location | Participants | Last Post |
probably wouldn't be this way | The Portal | Dagon, Requiem, Rift Presence |
08-31-2018 by Requiem |
No magic.
No items.
No companion.