Post by Dreyco on Jun 20, 2008 23:07:02 GMT -8
Full Name: Dreyco Rhe`taxus
Nicknames: Drey, Dreyc, "D"
Date of Birth: Sometime during the Age of Turmoil.
Age: 530 or so Years.
Race: Iksar
Gender: Male
Crown: Hair-like Quills
Scales: Obsidian black with a Grey underbelly.
Eyes: Sapphire Blue
Height: Tall as an Iksar can be.
Weight: Has the Weight and Build of a well-weathered warrior.
Place of Residence: Anywhere and Nowhere.
Place of Birth: Cabilis.
Known Relatives: Burhan (Father - Deceised)
Religion/Philosophy: A true agnostic. He doesn't follow any god.
Occupation: Martial Artist of the old Court's Laws. He has taken this art to a new, deadly path. Jeweler by Trade.
Group/Guild affiliation: Mercenary
Guild Rank: He needs not a rank to call himself by.
Enemies: He isn't very fond of Thulian Iksar, though he can't exactly bring himself to truely hate them. The Discipleship, however, has earned a special place in his heart, and he keeps his distance for good reason.
Likes: History, Lectures, Chess, Quiet Evenings with a good book.
Favorite Foods: A wide variety. He will eat most red meats, and enjoys a good salad with his meal.
Favorite Drinks: White and Red wines. A vodka every once in a while. Hot tea after a day training
Favorite Colors: Deep blues and Black. Some reds.
Weapons of Choice: Curved blades such a Katanas.
Dislikes: Zeal, selfishness, narrow-mindednes. Silver, images of the moon.
Hobbies: Writing and Transcribing Old Accounts of History, Practicing Martial arts and martial excersizes.
Physical Features:
Physically, Dreyco fits what you would expect from one of his profession, stature, and ranking, seeming to symbolically represent a leader of his people. He stands as tall as an Iksar can be, though not so towering that he would be mistaken for a giant, or an ogre, covered head to toe in striking obsidian colored scales, a shade of grey running down his neck and underbelly. Accompanying his height are slabs of thick, powerful musculature; broad shoulders, thick arms, and a torso ripe with daunting tones to give him the image one might only find upon an artist’s depiction of the perfect Iksarian warrior, granting him an intimidating visage to go with his provocative personality.
Quills cover the top of his head, and the back of his neck, appearing almost like hair upon the crown of the martial-artist, as odd as that might seem, eyes a deep shade of sapphire blue, gleaming with intelligence and wisdom that, by simply looking into them, betrays his age.
Though speaking of age... he doesn’t seem to be old at all; mid-twenties to thirtyat most in appearance, his scales unscathed, his claws perfectly well-kept in appearance, no blemishes, marks… ageless and eternal in form, nearly eerie in how it is portrayed as well.
Special Abilities:
Dreyco's Lycanthropy:
Nothing is as it seems...
Nothing on the exterior can truly reflect what demons any individual might harbor inside of them…
…Much the same for Dreyco, who has harbored the horrid disease Lycanthropy for many, many years.
The Legend of Kunark's Windigo
Windigo, or so he is called by those Iksar who are fortunate enough to see him, is considered a legend, a myth, and one of folk-lore. Though this is hardly true, as many have fallen fate to this clever canine's antics.
Guised as a large, black, mammalian wolf, Windigo has wandered the wilds of Kunark since before the times of Sebilis . Always alone, his sad howls of remorse were rumored to ring with the scaled wolves on many a night.
Many Iksar have stated that he would lead Iksar to their deaths in the wilds, portraying a playful, canine pup. Others have stated that he offers power to those who seek it, often teaching harsh lessons entailing pain and remorse with those who are granted such. And there is the general consensus of the popular of Cabilis, that he is nothing more than a stray dog, brought by the elves of Faydwer in their venture here.
Detailed information of Windigo's true nature remains unknown. Though there have been a few spiritists documented to have greater insight through experiences with the wolf, and many others have saught to garner such knowledge for themselves to no avail.
How it Came to Be.
During his time within Cabilis, Dreyco was known for his stead-fast will to do what was good and proper for his people. Selfless to a flaw, he would sacrifice anything, even his own life, to ensure that his kindred would remain safe.
assigned to lead a group of his closest comrades to the Dreadlands for reconnaissance of a band of Forsaken living there, Dreyco prepared his armor and sword for what seemed like a routine mission. Yet the Sathirians of the barren lands had their own ideas for this band of Iksars' success.
A band of Drolvargs; large, mammalian beasts attacked the Iksar, and a gruesome battle began between scale and hairy animal. Powerful spells were slung, bones were broken, and flesh was torn asunder by swords and claws. Yet the monsters kept on coming... an endless number of Lycanthropes pouring from the castle by Venril's command. And Dreyco watched with futility as many of his comrades began to die.
The Iksar begged and pleaded for help and guidance. Dreyco was at a loss, feeling a defeat coming, as well as the death of those he had come here to protect...
His desperation became palpable, swinging his sword, screaming with rage as he tried to fend off the monsters. Though in the midst of the battle, a voice touched his mind...
"How much would you give to protect your people...?”
"How much would you sacrifice..."
Anything... he would give anything, he would sacrifice anything. And with that thought, a vision came to his eyes, a visage of the wolf Windigo. His eyes went as wide as clay saucers as the mythical, great canine spirit, thought to only exist in legend, graced him with his presence.
Offered strength, promised power, everything he would need to defeat these monsters; with a catalyst, the blood of the fallen beasts to channel the energy throughout himself. Blood of monster in his claws, he drank down the cursed bile of the fallen Drolvarg.
His comrades cried for him to stop. His friends pleaded with him to reconsider, but it was too late. Windigo's promise became true, as the spiritual power warped the wolven blood within him.
His crimson blood ran black, as the full moon loomed over the Dreadlands... calling him. And before his comrades, he changed into the black wolf for the first time, ravaging the monstrous army with his bare claws, allowing his kin time to escape alive.
Howls filled the night sky; painful, savage, angry, sad. Time seemed to stand still as the platoon watched what once was Dreyco shred the drolvargs to pieces, ripping meat away from their furry bodies and feasting upon their innards. The squad slinked away into the darkness, alive, making haste for the city to tell others of what they had observed.
The cries followed them home, and every month after, they echoed across Norrath time and time again, fated to change, fated to hunt, fated to kill for the rest of his eternal existance.
The Black Wolf
Windigo, the black wolf, is far different from that of legend; far more real, far more frightening, far more deadly. The infection having coursed through Dreyco's veins for centuries has birthed quite the daunting, malicious beast indeed.
The black wolf is massive, standing well over the height of a barbarian upon two, raised canine haunches, and covered head to toe in bulging, thick musculature. Layers of matted, coarse, black hair has replaced the scale upon sickening, blackened flesh, giving him the look of a filthy, carniverous monster. A long, canine snout has replaced that of the gentle Iksar’s own, rows of deadly fangs revealed when maw is parted to growl, snarl, or eat. Lowered ears, burning eyes, like that of a demon seen only in nightmares.
His body is a weapon, not only due to the sharp fangs, but the serated edges of claws that stretch from the cuticles of his fingers, and the wolven haunches he trods upon. He moves with shadows, blending into the darkness with ease due to his coloring, the perfect night predator.
Like most werewolves, Windigo is a formidable foe, able to withstand blows from swords and spells alike. Even when bleeding from many wounds, he will stop at nothing to find his lust for blood satiated, a hunter and a strong, able wolf thirsty for blood and flesh. He is far from invincibile, however, and even though his tolerance for pain is rather high, he can, like all other beasts upon Norrath, perish the same way that any other being can.
Positive Personality Traits: Patient, Intelligent, Kind-hearted, and Wise.
Negative Personality Traits: A bit Jaded due to his experiences in Freeport with the Thulian Iksar.
Misc. Quirks: Despite the fact that he was betrayed by his clan over a year ago, he still harbors the deep desire to see them return home, and live away from the tyranny of Lucan. He has, however, given up his desire to join them.
Played by What Famous Person: Daniel Craig (As Portrayed in Casino Royale)
Theme Songs: These Walls ~ Dream Theater
History:
(These are Cliffs Notes. Dreyco’s Story is a multi-page Work in Progress)
Dreyco’s story begins a long time ago, during the age of Turmoil, when Cabilis was just beginning its rise to power. The offspring of a noble, High Shaman named Burhan Rhe`taxus, Dreyco was to be the heir to his father’s place in the imperial court. Burhan was a wise Iksar indeed, and a powerful, well respected mystic. His ideology was unique, though not entirely accepted by many, but he made up for that with his intuition, and steadfast will to do what was good for his people. Dreyco was raised with the knowledge that he had a great deal of responsibility ahead of him, and Burhan pushed his child hard to learn and study the proper ways of Cabilis so Dreyco could serve the city and represent his family as it was meant to be represented.
A knight named Zathis, one of Burhan’s trusted allies, aided in the Shaman’s debates many a time during Court Hearings. Though as the years went along, Burhan was able to uncover a great act of treason committed by the Dark Knight which had long been kept secret. But before Burhan could inform the Court of this act, Zathis murdered the shaman, and attempted the same on the young Dreyco, who fled the city in fear for his life.
The blood in the veins of the youth was strong… and he managed to survive the initial onslaughts of the natural world at a very young age. Taken in soon-after by a camp of Forsaken in the swamp, he was given an alias to live by: “Nihd”, the runt. And as the years went on, his longing to be where he felt he belonged grew stronger, plagued by visions of death and attempted murder.
Even after death, Burhan’s spirit attempted to guide the young Dreyco in any manner he could, to push him back to his family legacy. Saved from the forsaken encampment from an old, dear friend, he was returned to the city once more, where he made it his mission to find redemption. Once again the strong youth proved his might. Struggling through cracked whips, and a multitude of Trials, he accomplished just that, finding his way into the Court of Pain as a whiff and beginning his training as a Swift-tail. The Grandmasters held little trust for him, and treated him as any Loyal Iksar would a redeeming forsaken. Yet Dreyco persevered.
Having finally redeemed himself, he was divined by the mystics of the city, and given an opportunity at “Rebirth”, selected to drop his shackles within the court and start his training as a Pawn to the Lords in the Temple of Terror. Despite this change in profession, he never forgot his teachings within the Court, and continued to use them to strengthen his mind and body. He served as a Crusader for many, many years, advancing himself further, determination showing him up rung after rung of ranking within Cabilis, eventually serving as Duke of Greenmist underneath the Arch Duke Xog.
He personally saw to the redemption of many Forsaken, bringing them back into Cabilis for education and toward the true cause of their people. And, at the same time, he saw to the death of many who would not see eye to eye with the Empire.
Dreyco was in the prime of his life. Driven by the pain in he still carried over his father’s death, he did his best through all his efforts to bring pride to his name: Rhe`taxus. Dreyco’s every action had the wellbeing of his people in mind, and the pride of his decimated family name. He had even been paired with a mystic and had a son, Varrin, whom he was very proud of.
Though all good things cannot last forever…
He was assigned to lead a bounty of Knights on a treacherous mission, which, to keep things simple, ended in disaster, and all involved were put in a life-or-death struggle. Dreyco was faced with a choice, and in turn, he sacrificed his purity, and cursed himself to save the lot of the troop.
Lycanthropy… the bloodthirsty, maddened wolf within him.
With that choice, everything took a turn for the worse…
Even though he had adopted his curse in the line of duty, every last bit of energy was exhumed attempting to hold onto everything he had worked to earn, all while enduring the gruesome change into the wolf every full moon. No matter how hard he tried, things deteriorated further and further. His mate and his son were murdered by Dark Elves on a mission of their own, and he became grief-stricken… adding onto the fact that he was viewed by many as a monster, no matter how hard he tried to prove otherwise.
Keeping himself at a distance, he managed to never take the life of another Iksar, even after he had transformed. However, the possibility of that occurring still loomed over the city officials, and Dreyco’s fate was once again decided; execution, by the hands of the very troop that he had trained, the very troop he had saved.
For a final time, Dreyco fled in fear for his life, away from Cabilis, away from the persecution, and forsaken, yet again. He locked away all of his emotions, practiced Katta, and honed his body and skill as a martial artist to better attempt to futily control his curse.
Years blurred together, losing track of the moons, losing track of the passage of time.
The rending came, that which shook Cabilis to the ground, and the swift-tail was forced to flee further and further away from what he had once considered his “home”.
With Cabilis gone, his family gone, and his purpose gone, Dreyco found himself facing his old foe ten-fold: the wolf Windigo. He suffered frequent changes and loss of control. All he could do was continue his practices in hopes to bring back some amount of hope for his inner-turmoil.
Year after year of agony, month after month, each day a struggle to survive. The end of the Age of Cataclysms shaking his spirit more, the screams of many which echoed across Norrath as the splintered Luclin rained fire down upon the land.
Then, at long last, there was a light of hope. Tales of an Iksar civilization living under a Human Lich reached his ears, and Dreyco found his way to the Scale Yard of Freeport, and the remains of his broken and shattered people. The sadness, the famine, and the disease all turned his stomach
All these years of pain he had endured…
All these years of agony…
All these years of suffering…
Physical and Spiritual…
He once again set out to aid and defend his race, as he had over a century ago.
He stood then in an effort to continue to live up to his promise, and his purpose: Defending his race, defending his people, preserving his family, and restoring the former glory of the Iksar culture.
Leader of the Shadowclan Iksar, Chancellor and teacher of his people, once again he began educating and guiding young Iksar as he did once as a Crusader. He put his faith in many, and gave himself little in return, selfless to a flaw, and trusting to an even greater flaw.
Trusting to a point that he befriended the wrong individual...
The wrong individual who betrayed him and his clan...
The Lucanic Knights became aware of his purpose and his small, quietly building uprising, and as one unit, they smashed the clan to pieces, and attempted to apprehend Dreyco for execution. Shattered and broken, he fled the city, and fled his kindred once more.
Alone in the wilds... without a purpose, without a place. Freeport, Qeynos, Kelethin, Neriak, away from all four. Fearing for his life, struggling for a light, struggling to once again find his place upon the world of Norrath.
Nicknames: Drey, Dreyc, "D"
Date of Birth: Sometime during the Age of Turmoil.
Age: 530 or so Years.
Race: Iksar
Gender: Male
Crown: Hair-like Quills
Scales: Obsidian black with a Grey underbelly.
Eyes: Sapphire Blue
Height: Tall as an Iksar can be.
Weight: Has the Weight and Build of a well-weathered warrior.
Place of Residence: Anywhere and Nowhere.
Place of Birth: Cabilis.
Known Relatives: Burhan (Father - Deceised)
Religion/Philosophy: A true agnostic. He doesn't follow any god.
Occupation: Martial Artist of the old Court's Laws. He has taken this art to a new, deadly path. Jeweler by Trade.
Group/Guild affiliation: Mercenary
Guild Rank: He needs not a rank to call himself by.
Enemies: He isn't very fond of Thulian Iksar, though he can't exactly bring himself to truely hate them. The Discipleship, however, has earned a special place in his heart, and he keeps his distance for good reason.
Likes: History, Lectures, Chess, Quiet Evenings with a good book.
Favorite Foods: A wide variety. He will eat most red meats, and enjoys a good salad with his meal.
Favorite Drinks: White and Red wines. A vodka every once in a while. Hot tea after a day training
Favorite Colors: Deep blues and Black. Some reds.
Weapons of Choice: Curved blades such a Katanas.
Dislikes: Zeal, selfishness, narrow-mindednes. Silver, images of the moon.
Hobbies: Writing and Transcribing Old Accounts of History, Practicing Martial arts and martial excersizes.
Physical Features:
Physically, Dreyco fits what you would expect from one of his profession, stature, and ranking, seeming to symbolically represent a leader of his people. He stands as tall as an Iksar can be, though not so towering that he would be mistaken for a giant, or an ogre, covered head to toe in striking obsidian colored scales, a shade of grey running down his neck and underbelly. Accompanying his height are slabs of thick, powerful musculature; broad shoulders, thick arms, and a torso ripe with daunting tones to give him the image one might only find upon an artist’s depiction of the perfect Iksarian warrior, granting him an intimidating visage to go with his provocative personality.
Quills cover the top of his head, and the back of his neck, appearing almost like hair upon the crown of the martial-artist, as odd as that might seem, eyes a deep shade of sapphire blue, gleaming with intelligence and wisdom that, by simply looking into them, betrays his age.
Though speaking of age... he doesn’t seem to be old at all; mid-twenties to thirtyat most in appearance, his scales unscathed, his claws perfectly well-kept in appearance, no blemishes, marks… ageless and eternal in form, nearly eerie in how it is portrayed as well.
Special Abilities:
Dreyco's Lycanthropy:
Nothing is as it seems...
Nothing on the exterior can truly reflect what demons any individual might harbor inside of them…
…Much the same for Dreyco, who has harbored the horrid disease Lycanthropy for many, many years.
The Legend of Kunark's Windigo
Windigo, or so he is called by those Iksar who are fortunate enough to see him, is considered a legend, a myth, and one of folk-lore. Though this is hardly true, as many have fallen fate to this clever canine's antics.
Guised as a large, black, mammalian wolf, Windigo has wandered the wilds of Kunark since before the times of Sebilis . Always alone, his sad howls of remorse were rumored to ring with the scaled wolves on many a night.
Many Iksar have stated that he would lead Iksar to their deaths in the wilds, portraying a playful, canine pup. Others have stated that he offers power to those who seek it, often teaching harsh lessons entailing pain and remorse with those who are granted such. And there is the general consensus of the popular of Cabilis, that he is nothing more than a stray dog, brought by the elves of Faydwer in their venture here.
Detailed information of Windigo's true nature remains unknown. Though there have been a few spiritists documented to have greater insight through experiences with the wolf, and many others have saught to garner such knowledge for themselves to no avail.
How it Came to Be.
During his time within Cabilis, Dreyco was known for his stead-fast will to do what was good and proper for his people. Selfless to a flaw, he would sacrifice anything, even his own life, to ensure that his kindred would remain safe.
assigned to lead a group of his closest comrades to the Dreadlands for reconnaissance of a band of Forsaken living there, Dreyco prepared his armor and sword for what seemed like a routine mission. Yet the Sathirians of the barren lands had their own ideas for this band of Iksars' success.
A band of Drolvargs; large, mammalian beasts attacked the Iksar, and a gruesome battle began between scale and hairy animal. Powerful spells were slung, bones were broken, and flesh was torn asunder by swords and claws. Yet the monsters kept on coming... an endless number of Lycanthropes pouring from the castle by Venril's command. And Dreyco watched with futility as many of his comrades began to die.
The Iksar begged and pleaded for help and guidance. Dreyco was at a loss, feeling a defeat coming, as well as the death of those he had come here to protect...
His desperation became palpable, swinging his sword, screaming with rage as he tried to fend off the monsters. Though in the midst of the battle, a voice touched his mind...
"How much would you give to protect your people...?”
"How much would you sacrifice..."
Anything... he would give anything, he would sacrifice anything. And with that thought, a vision came to his eyes, a visage of the wolf Windigo. His eyes went as wide as clay saucers as the mythical, great canine spirit, thought to only exist in legend, graced him with his presence.
Offered strength, promised power, everything he would need to defeat these monsters; with a catalyst, the blood of the fallen beasts to channel the energy throughout himself. Blood of monster in his claws, he drank down the cursed bile of the fallen Drolvarg.
His comrades cried for him to stop. His friends pleaded with him to reconsider, but it was too late. Windigo's promise became true, as the spiritual power warped the wolven blood within him.
His crimson blood ran black, as the full moon loomed over the Dreadlands... calling him. And before his comrades, he changed into the black wolf for the first time, ravaging the monstrous army with his bare claws, allowing his kin time to escape alive.
Howls filled the night sky; painful, savage, angry, sad. Time seemed to stand still as the platoon watched what once was Dreyco shred the drolvargs to pieces, ripping meat away from their furry bodies and feasting upon their innards. The squad slinked away into the darkness, alive, making haste for the city to tell others of what they had observed.
The cries followed them home, and every month after, they echoed across Norrath time and time again, fated to change, fated to hunt, fated to kill for the rest of his eternal existance.
The Black Wolf
Windigo, the black wolf, is far different from that of legend; far more real, far more frightening, far more deadly. The infection having coursed through Dreyco's veins for centuries has birthed quite the daunting, malicious beast indeed.
The black wolf is massive, standing well over the height of a barbarian upon two, raised canine haunches, and covered head to toe in bulging, thick musculature. Layers of matted, coarse, black hair has replaced the scale upon sickening, blackened flesh, giving him the look of a filthy, carniverous monster. A long, canine snout has replaced that of the gentle Iksar’s own, rows of deadly fangs revealed when maw is parted to growl, snarl, or eat. Lowered ears, burning eyes, like that of a demon seen only in nightmares.
His body is a weapon, not only due to the sharp fangs, but the serated edges of claws that stretch from the cuticles of his fingers, and the wolven haunches he trods upon. He moves with shadows, blending into the darkness with ease due to his coloring, the perfect night predator.
Like most werewolves, Windigo is a formidable foe, able to withstand blows from swords and spells alike. Even when bleeding from many wounds, he will stop at nothing to find his lust for blood satiated, a hunter and a strong, able wolf thirsty for blood and flesh. He is far from invincibile, however, and even though his tolerance for pain is rather high, he can, like all other beasts upon Norrath, perish the same way that any other being can.
Positive Personality Traits: Patient, Intelligent, Kind-hearted, and Wise.
Negative Personality Traits: A bit Jaded due to his experiences in Freeport with the Thulian Iksar.
Misc. Quirks: Despite the fact that he was betrayed by his clan over a year ago, he still harbors the deep desire to see them return home, and live away from the tyranny of Lucan. He has, however, given up his desire to join them.
Played by What Famous Person: Daniel Craig (As Portrayed in Casino Royale)
Theme Songs: These Walls ~ Dream Theater
History:
(These are Cliffs Notes. Dreyco’s Story is a multi-page Work in Progress)
Dreyco’s story begins a long time ago, during the age of Turmoil, when Cabilis was just beginning its rise to power. The offspring of a noble, High Shaman named Burhan Rhe`taxus, Dreyco was to be the heir to his father’s place in the imperial court. Burhan was a wise Iksar indeed, and a powerful, well respected mystic. His ideology was unique, though not entirely accepted by many, but he made up for that with his intuition, and steadfast will to do what was good for his people. Dreyco was raised with the knowledge that he had a great deal of responsibility ahead of him, and Burhan pushed his child hard to learn and study the proper ways of Cabilis so Dreyco could serve the city and represent his family as it was meant to be represented.
A knight named Zathis, one of Burhan’s trusted allies, aided in the Shaman’s debates many a time during Court Hearings. Though as the years went along, Burhan was able to uncover a great act of treason committed by the Dark Knight which had long been kept secret. But before Burhan could inform the Court of this act, Zathis murdered the shaman, and attempted the same on the young Dreyco, who fled the city in fear for his life.
The blood in the veins of the youth was strong… and he managed to survive the initial onslaughts of the natural world at a very young age. Taken in soon-after by a camp of Forsaken in the swamp, he was given an alias to live by: “Nihd”, the runt. And as the years went on, his longing to be where he felt he belonged grew stronger, plagued by visions of death and attempted murder.
Even after death, Burhan’s spirit attempted to guide the young Dreyco in any manner he could, to push him back to his family legacy. Saved from the forsaken encampment from an old, dear friend, he was returned to the city once more, where he made it his mission to find redemption. Once again the strong youth proved his might. Struggling through cracked whips, and a multitude of Trials, he accomplished just that, finding his way into the Court of Pain as a whiff and beginning his training as a Swift-tail. The Grandmasters held little trust for him, and treated him as any Loyal Iksar would a redeeming forsaken. Yet Dreyco persevered.
Having finally redeemed himself, he was divined by the mystics of the city, and given an opportunity at “Rebirth”, selected to drop his shackles within the court and start his training as a Pawn to the Lords in the Temple of Terror. Despite this change in profession, he never forgot his teachings within the Court, and continued to use them to strengthen his mind and body. He served as a Crusader for many, many years, advancing himself further, determination showing him up rung after rung of ranking within Cabilis, eventually serving as Duke of Greenmist underneath the Arch Duke Xog.
He personally saw to the redemption of many Forsaken, bringing them back into Cabilis for education and toward the true cause of their people. And, at the same time, he saw to the death of many who would not see eye to eye with the Empire.
Dreyco was in the prime of his life. Driven by the pain in he still carried over his father’s death, he did his best through all his efforts to bring pride to his name: Rhe`taxus. Dreyco’s every action had the wellbeing of his people in mind, and the pride of his decimated family name. He had even been paired with a mystic and had a son, Varrin, whom he was very proud of.
Though all good things cannot last forever…
He was assigned to lead a bounty of Knights on a treacherous mission, which, to keep things simple, ended in disaster, and all involved were put in a life-or-death struggle. Dreyco was faced with a choice, and in turn, he sacrificed his purity, and cursed himself to save the lot of the troop.
Lycanthropy… the bloodthirsty, maddened wolf within him.
With that choice, everything took a turn for the worse…
Even though he had adopted his curse in the line of duty, every last bit of energy was exhumed attempting to hold onto everything he had worked to earn, all while enduring the gruesome change into the wolf every full moon. No matter how hard he tried, things deteriorated further and further. His mate and his son were murdered by Dark Elves on a mission of their own, and he became grief-stricken… adding onto the fact that he was viewed by many as a monster, no matter how hard he tried to prove otherwise.
Keeping himself at a distance, he managed to never take the life of another Iksar, even after he had transformed. However, the possibility of that occurring still loomed over the city officials, and Dreyco’s fate was once again decided; execution, by the hands of the very troop that he had trained, the very troop he had saved.
For a final time, Dreyco fled in fear for his life, away from Cabilis, away from the persecution, and forsaken, yet again. He locked away all of his emotions, practiced Katta, and honed his body and skill as a martial artist to better attempt to futily control his curse.
Years blurred together, losing track of the moons, losing track of the passage of time.
The rending came, that which shook Cabilis to the ground, and the swift-tail was forced to flee further and further away from what he had once considered his “home”.
With Cabilis gone, his family gone, and his purpose gone, Dreyco found himself facing his old foe ten-fold: the wolf Windigo. He suffered frequent changes and loss of control. All he could do was continue his practices in hopes to bring back some amount of hope for his inner-turmoil.
Year after year of agony, month after month, each day a struggle to survive. The end of the Age of Cataclysms shaking his spirit more, the screams of many which echoed across Norrath as the splintered Luclin rained fire down upon the land.
Then, at long last, there was a light of hope. Tales of an Iksar civilization living under a Human Lich reached his ears, and Dreyco found his way to the Scale Yard of Freeport, and the remains of his broken and shattered people. The sadness, the famine, and the disease all turned his stomach
All these years of pain he had endured…
All these years of agony…
All these years of suffering…
Physical and Spiritual…
He once again set out to aid and defend his race, as he had over a century ago.
He stood then in an effort to continue to live up to his promise, and his purpose: Defending his race, defending his people, preserving his family, and restoring the former glory of the Iksar culture.
Leader of the Shadowclan Iksar, Chancellor and teacher of his people, once again he began educating and guiding young Iksar as he did once as a Crusader. He put his faith in many, and gave himself little in return, selfless to a flaw, and trusting to an even greater flaw.
Trusting to a point that he befriended the wrong individual...
The wrong individual who betrayed him and his clan...
The Lucanic Knights became aware of his purpose and his small, quietly building uprising, and as one unit, they smashed the clan to pieces, and attempted to apprehend Dreyco for execution. Shattered and broken, he fled the city, and fled his kindred once more.
Alone in the wilds... without a purpose, without a place. Freeport, Qeynos, Kelethin, Neriak, away from all four. Fearing for his life, struggling for a light, struggling to once again find his place upon the world of Norrath.
