Champions of Tymeria
Character Points (7) out of a possible 10.
Player Voted Session Titles Earned:
6/11: The Hero
6/25: The Victor
7/9 The Actor
Dwarven Thrower (1d6) and Battle-forged Shield
AC: 23 (+ milestones)
Healing Surge: 15
Healing Value: 18
Drago is a gray and blue scaled 6’5”, 299lb, dragon born with blue eyes, white tattoos and scars across his back; who is a pristine worshiper of Lugen and righteously devout to ending slavery and evil in the land. Donned in silver-grey armor and a blue sash around his neck Drago carries the crest of Lugen on his shield. Getting back into the motions of life his ability to speak has returned and is slowly becoming more sociable, however it is still hard.
Drago was once a member of the Grayscale Tribe. The Grayscale Tribe was rooted along the coast of Ariak before the fall of the land; however their whole tribe was sold into slavery by one of their own. After countless years of servitude, torture and separation the grayscales became no more than sparse collectives of straggling slaves trying to keep together within their households.
Branded and sold for profit it was hard to keep families and friends together after that. Drago was brought into the world by a mother and father who were slaves of the grayscales who had attempted to escape with him but he cannot remember more than their faces and that their attempt failed. He lost them that day to his first master Delfeno who ended up separating them from him, He couldn’t remember much about Delfeno other than his troll-ish face with a streak of blue in his hair.
After that Drago’s memory has worn away under the shear time and repetition of his torturous life. After 17 years of this his mind became numb and with little life left he woke up to a golden light, a woman of grace and kindness; having not seen anything like it before Drago strived for answers. Then he was awoken form his illusion of a dream it was to a whip upon his back; his lingering hope taken from him in the night. “Your master beckons scum scale!” barked one of the guards of the keep.
Stumbling down the hall as he had since his last master, she was nicer but only in that he had gotten to eat every day, he came to the master’s chamber. As he stumbled along in front of the guard, continuous streams of insults and whippings came from behind but Drago was distracted off in the distance he saw golden feathers leading to… the master’s room, but why? Trying to touch them as he past wincing in pain, they seemed to shatter into golden dust that plastered to him as he started to sweat.
When they reached the master’s room, a 7 foot tall brute of a fellow named Bramzii who was sly and jagged all around. Upon the ground below Bramzii he notice more feathers in a pile and a limp figure within them, a small dragon of blue and gray that was shining gold. Unaware if Bramzii saw the dragon on the ground Drago seemed to be drawn to it, to protect it. Stumbling over to the floor, not unlike I would normally do although with a different intent form the past. Drago found the dragon breathing slowly and faint and reached for it, at this time Bramzii realized Drago was being weirder than his normal lifeless self and yelled a command, two more guards walked in brandishing barbed whips this time, Drago’s Favorite, and started unleashing a flurry of cracks along his body, but all he could see or feel was the warmth of the youngling he was protecting form the whips.
A voice spoke to him not like the hoarse commands from Bramzii but a gentle kind voice from his dreams. It spoke, “Why do you protect that young one, Son of the Grayscales?” Drago spoke out, “It doesn’t deserve to be here, let it flee and be safe” tears started to stream down Drago’s face, gold tears.
Bramzii stood up at awe of this rebellion. As he stood up the voice spoke again, “You endure so much for someone you do not know, yet you do not save yourself?” Drago responded impulsively, “I can endure just as I have but the young one cannot, lest I protect it!” and with that audible response the whippings stopped and the room went quiet as Dragon stood up, claws drawn wrapped around the young blue dragon, it leapt into Drago’s chest. A flood of light filled the room emanating from Dragon gold and blue light and the guards and Bramzii dropped their weapons, stunned by the view they had. Drago, wounds glowing gold, Angelic Dragon wings sprouted form his back and a thorn wound halo appeared above his head.
He roared like he had never before, “You shall be condemned for your sins and your soul will be purged of evil, let it be that you have any good left and you may survive this holy retribution” and a spears of light shot from him into each of the soldiers and their bodies dissolved into black dust, purged from this land. Lugen appeared in front of him holding his head as if he was young again and spoke, “My young one come to my land, be free so that you may free others” and with that she disappeared along with the Angelic ascetics that accompanied this event. All that was left was a white Tattoo that lined Drago’s body from edge to edge, and a trident that was struck into the ground where Bramzii had been standing, he strode over to this divine gift with confidence of the gods and took his leave, first to the holding quarters and then to the sea.
He fought many slavers on his way and with every one that he slain tens upon hundreds of slaves where saved. He found this new land (where our sanction is from) and took up arms to come back one day to save those who cannot save themselves.
He grew into an Honest and charming figure among the organization, always flattering the gods, never taking more than he needs, and striving to help the young when he can. Some call him too selfless for his own good and others express their gratitude for his kindness but none the less his divine verdict is to save those who need it and protect those who need it. Conflicted with his past he struggles to keep the dark out, only his grace’s forgiveness sooths his mind. Fear of finding his family alive and lifeless haunts his dreams but to save them he must take back what the slavers have stolen from them, their freedom.
‘They accuse me of being too harsh! But they do not know what this land brings; horror and strife is always around the corner. Sometimes I wonder if… No! My Faith shall not falter nor shall my conviction.’
‘I cannot let another soul be consumed; whatever it takes to shunt the shackles of this land. If not for Lugen … I might still have them myself…’
‘Scattered thoughts; smoke among fire that’s all they are…’ shakes head in frustration ‘what faces are these; Why do they come to me Lugen, I pray for your guidance’
‘It has been near a scale’s age since I have been graced with faces as lively as these’ looks around at his companions ‘Let the gods guide us in our path to free this land’
If someone is in trouble, I’m always willing to lend help.
I judge people by their actions, not their words.
I’m haunted by memories of war. I can’t get the images of violence out of my mind.
I have trouble keeping my true feelings hidden. My sharp tongue lands me in trouble.
I harbor dark bloodthirsty thoughts that my isolation failed to quell.
Charity: I always try to help those in need, no matter what the personal cost. (Good)
Aspiration. I’m going to prove that I’m worthy of a better life. (Any)
I have a family, but I have no idea where they are. One day, I hope to see them again.
I will bring terrible wrath down on the evildoers who destroyed my homeland.