Post by Rayth on Mar 27, 2015 12:04:01 GMT -5
Rayth
Name: Rayth
Pronunciation: (wraith)
Age: seven
Gender: stallion
Magic: Ignatum
Allegience: Ignatum
Pronunciation: (wraith)
Age: seven
Gender: stallion
Magic: Ignatum
Allegience: Ignatum
Appearance
Build: baroque with draft influence
Height: 17.3 hh
Base: gunmetal grey
Eyes: red, angular, lizard pupils
Markings: rose grey belly scales
Mane: ridge, light grey scales
Tail: lizard-like, three spikes near end
Additions: two straight horns reaching up from crown of head, tail spikes, large deep blue bat wings
Reference: image, and image
Height: 17.3 hh
Base: gunmetal grey
Eyes: red, angular, lizard pupils
Markings: rose grey belly scales
Mane: ridge, light grey scales
Tail: lizard-like, three spikes near end
Additions: two straight horns reaching up from crown of head, tail spikes, large deep blue bat wings
Reference: image, and image
Personality
Traits: arrogant, responsible, militaristic, observant, predjudiced, vindictive, blunt, hard, promiscuous, egotistical
Personality: A leader whose followers obey out of love and respect is required to display certain traits. Rayth is no different. He did not ask for the throne of flame; it was presented to him. Though the stud's arrogance knows no bounds, he does make an attempt to veil it. It's infinitely easier to impress with a show of skill than it is with a bit of long-windedness. Rayth is extremely charismatic. He is liked by the masses because he is easily likable. However, those closest to him know that in reality he's mostly raging, arrogant asshole, topped with a fight instinct so strong, flight is not an option, and sprinkled with a dash of responsibility and the willingness to stop at nothing to see his homeland flourish.
He has never felt anything akin to love, and does not necessarily plan to. Of course, there is the matter of having an heir, and a consort would be handy in a pinch, but the stud is in no hurry. Frankly, he enjoys having whichever tail he happens to take a fancy to and would hate to give that up.
Unfortunately, Rayth has a tendency to come across as extremely rude to anyone not involved in a military lifestyle. To a soldier, Rayth sounds like a soldier, albeit a high-ranking one. To the average civilian, the stallion sounds like a complete ass. He may have had lessons in diplomacy, but it is the common belief that he ignored all of them. To his way of thinking, he already has the weight of an entire kingdom squarely on his shoulders, he shouldn't have to pay attention to his words, too. Besides, the king isn't going to coddle someone because his or her skin has the thickness of a single strand of hair. It will do the horse some good to toughen up.
In many ways, it is clear the stud has never had a 'normal' life. Many ideas are still completely foreign to him. For example, torture is a perfectly viable means of extracting information, execution is the only acceptable punishment for traitors and deserters, and foals do not need their mothers once they have been weaned. Mental illness does not exist, it is merely a weakness of will to overcome stupidity. Physical disabilities should be hidden or culled at all costs, for they are a weakness to the entire country. With some things, Rayth is extremely narrow-minded.
In fact, in most things, Rayth is rather set in his ways. This does not mean he cannot change, merely that it is difficult for him to. Even traveling the island and seeing all there was to see was not enough to alleviate his predjudice against outsiders. However, the stud is rather intelligent, from a warfare point of view. Hybrids could be extremely useful, though their allegiance must always be in question.
All in all, Rayth is an extremely simple being. If he has something to say, he will most likely say it. If he desires something, he will work to attain it. If he finds competition, he will best it. And if he feels a confrontation will solve a problem, he will be the first to fight.
Personality: A leader whose followers obey out of love and respect is required to display certain traits. Rayth is no different. He did not ask for the throne of flame; it was presented to him. Though the stud's arrogance knows no bounds, he does make an attempt to veil it. It's infinitely easier to impress with a show of skill than it is with a bit of long-windedness. Rayth is extremely charismatic. He is liked by the masses because he is easily likable. However, those closest to him know that in reality he's mostly raging, arrogant asshole, topped with a fight instinct so strong, flight is not an option, and sprinkled with a dash of responsibility and the willingness to stop at nothing to see his homeland flourish.
He has never felt anything akin to love, and does not necessarily plan to. Of course, there is the matter of having an heir, and a consort would be handy in a pinch, but the stud is in no hurry. Frankly, he enjoys having whichever tail he happens to take a fancy to and would hate to give that up.
Unfortunately, Rayth has a tendency to come across as extremely rude to anyone not involved in a military lifestyle. To a soldier, Rayth sounds like a soldier, albeit a high-ranking one. To the average civilian, the stallion sounds like a complete ass. He may have had lessons in diplomacy, but it is the common belief that he ignored all of them. To his way of thinking, he already has the weight of an entire kingdom squarely on his shoulders, he shouldn't have to pay attention to his words, too. Besides, the king isn't going to coddle someone because his or her skin has the thickness of a single strand of hair. It will do the horse some good to toughen up.
In many ways, it is clear the stud has never had a 'normal' life. Many ideas are still completely foreign to him. For example, torture is a perfectly viable means of extracting information, execution is the only acceptable punishment for traitors and deserters, and foals do not need their mothers once they have been weaned. Mental illness does not exist, it is merely a weakness of will to overcome stupidity. Physical disabilities should be hidden or culled at all costs, for they are a weakness to the entire country. With some things, Rayth is extremely narrow-minded.
In fact, in most things, Rayth is rather set in his ways. This does not mean he cannot change, merely that it is difficult for him to. Even traveling the island and seeing all there was to see was not enough to alleviate his predjudice against outsiders. However, the stud is rather intelligent, from a warfare point of view. Hybrids could be extremely useful, though their allegiance must always be in question.
All in all, Rayth is an extremely simple being. If he has something to say, he will most likely say it. If he desires something, he will work to attain it. If he finds competition, he will best it. And if he feels a confrontation will solve a problem, he will be the first to fight.
History
Ignatum has always had a standing military. When the Old Kings drew up their treaty and chose peace over war, it was not decommissioned. The legions received far less field time--about 100% less--but the army continued to exist. Perhaps the hope that the Ignatum militia would break the terms of the pact and return to war is what stayed the gods from unleashing their anger for so long. But the Old King was true to his word. The army was not disbanded, but it was no longer of any use.
Rayth was born into the military way of life. With him being the only black mark on either of his parents' records, it was only natural for the colt to follow in their footsteps. Amethyst, his dam, had served in the King's Own--the elites. Draco, Rayth's sire, was a Commander of legions. In retrospect, the colt had very little choice in the path of his life. His destiny was written in the circumstance of his birth.
It had been two years since the peace was made when the draconic foal was dragged, kicking and screaming into this world. The army had grown complacent. Many did not even show up to training. Only the few true warriors, Amethyst and Draco among them, kept the traditions alive. They spoke to the young fighters of a time not-long past where the kingdoms could never rest, for before one war ended another had begun. These stories, to some, were simply that: stories. To others, like the impressionable Rayth, were legends. Those that had seen battle spoke of the glory of the old days, the glory of Ignatum.
The colt would look about himself with awe and disgust, a longing for the past. Within the young stud grew a strong sense of duty. Perhaps it was merely his parents, who doted on their only son and pushed him to be as much as he possibly could. No effort was good enough unless he was incapable of giving any more, and even still, it was not always satisfactory. With anything the youth attempted, it was demanded that he was the best. Failure was inevitable, but with failure came strength and endurance and the insatiable need to become better. His was a hard life--up before dawn, lessons in history, battle, warfare, and diplomacy in the mornings, then practice of the martial arts in the afternoon until well beyond sundown.
But learn, he did. He became the best of his peers. With time, he learned leadership and responsibility. It was only natural for the younger would-be militants to look up to the charismatic stallion. Eventually, he could best even his teachers. Of course, with such skill comes an extreme level of confidence, oftentimes surpassing cockiness altogether and going straight to arrogance. It is for this reason that the stud was not home when the gods sent their plague.
There was much to be learned about the why of stallions and mares, and the stud had decided there was nothing more he could be taught at home. So, naturally, he had decided to satisfy his curiosity elsewhere. He wasn't known away from home. People didn't fall respectfully silent when he spoke. At first, it was incredibly frustrating, but he adapted soon enough. He learned when to speak and when to listen, and he learned what a real fight was like. Loners and rogues weren't held to the law of the peace treaty, and when Rayth insulted the wrong mare, she demanded satisfaction from his blood.
After his 7th such encounter, the gods sent their catastrophe. Only those with fire in their blood were spared, or so it seemed. The royals were dead in a matter of days. The entire island fell to chaos.
When he returned to his homeland, Rayth was a changed stallion. In his youth he had been outspoken, egotistic, and incredibly arrogant. What he had seen as he traveled the island.... He never speaks of it.
He quickly fell into rank, as was expected. The army, though depleted, had a use once more. Their first mission was to fortify the Ignatum borders. There was only enough personel to keep the extremity of their territory, the land the royal court was held upon, the fire mountain itself. Battles were fought. It seemed as though every horse were for himself everywhere but Ignatum, for that was all the soldiers saw. Few herds stayed together. There was so little leadership. Only the military discipline kept Ignatum from falling to ruin.
With his intellect, his skill, and his overall ability to create fire in the hearts of his warriors, Rayth quickly ascended the ranks. When it came time for a new king to take the throne in the volcano, few were surprised when the elders approached the reptilian stud, and fewer still were surprised when he accepted.
Rayth was born into the military way of life. With him being the only black mark on either of his parents' records, it was only natural for the colt to follow in their footsteps. Amethyst, his dam, had served in the King's Own--the elites. Draco, Rayth's sire, was a Commander of legions. In retrospect, the colt had very little choice in the path of his life. His destiny was written in the circumstance of his birth.
It had been two years since the peace was made when the draconic foal was dragged, kicking and screaming into this world. The army had grown complacent. Many did not even show up to training. Only the few true warriors, Amethyst and Draco among them, kept the traditions alive. They spoke to the young fighters of a time not-long past where the kingdoms could never rest, for before one war ended another had begun. These stories, to some, were simply that: stories. To others, like the impressionable Rayth, were legends. Those that had seen battle spoke of the glory of the old days, the glory of Ignatum.
The colt would look about himself with awe and disgust, a longing for the past. Within the young stud grew a strong sense of duty. Perhaps it was merely his parents, who doted on their only son and pushed him to be as much as he possibly could. No effort was good enough unless he was incapable of giving any more, and even still, it was not always satisfactory. With anything the youth attempted, it was demanded that he was the best. Failure was inevitable, but with failure came strength and endurance and the insatiable need to become better. His was a hard life--up before dawn, lessons in history, battle, warfare, and diplomacy in the mornings, then practice of the martial arts in the afternoon until well beyond sundown.
But learn, he did. He became the best of his peers. With time, he learned leadership and responsibility. It was only natural for the younger would-be militants to look up to the charismatic stallion. Eventually, he could best even his teachers. Of course, with such skill comes an extreme level of confidence, oftentimes surpassing cockiness altogether and going straight to arrogance. It is for this reason that the stud was not home when the gods sent their plague.
There was much to be learned about the why of stallions and mares, and the stud had decided there was nothing more he could be taught at home. So, naturally, he had decided to satisfy his curiosity elsewhere. He wasn't known away from home. People didn't fall respectfully silent when he spoke. At first, it was incredibly frustrating, but he adapted soon enough. He learned when to speak and when to listen, and he learned what a real fight was like. Loners and rogues weren't held to the law of the peace treaty, and when Rayth insulted the wrong mare, she demanded satisfaction from his blood.
After his 7th such encounter, the gods sent their catastrophe. Only those with fire in their blood were spared, or so it seemed. The royals were dead in a matter of days. The entire island fell to chaos.
When he returned to his homeland, Rayth was a changed stallion. In his youth he had been outspoken, egotistic, and incredibly arrogant. What he had seen as he traveled the island.... He never speaks of it.
He quickly fell into rank, as was expected. The army, though depleted, had a use once more. Their first mission was to fortify the Ignatum borders. There was only enough personel to keep the extremity of their territory, the land the royal court was held upon, the fire mountain itself. Battles were fought. It seemed as though every horse were for himself everywhere but Ignatum, for that was all the soldiers saw. Few herds stayed together. There was so little leadership. Only the military discipline kept Ignatum from falling to ruin.
With his intellect, his skill, and his overall ability to create fire in the hearts of his warriors, Rayth quickly ascended the ranks. When it came time for a new king to take the throne in the volcano, few were surprised when the elders approached the reptilian stud, and fewer still were surprised when he accepted.
Played by: CAYNIDAE
