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Victoria South, Kastalian King's Hunter


NameVictoria South
SpeciesHuman
ClassBarren
Age20
GenderFemale (she/her/hers)
PlayerStorm
TimezoneRoseVille, MN UTC -6
#1

The gods hate us
because we killed them
Boots echoed off the marble floor, soon becoming muffled once it shifted from the smooth stone to the rough rocky path that lead to the dungeons and arena. "I am so pleased that you are seeing him, he is... a handful though. But I am sure since you are an accomplished hunter he will not be much of a bother for you." The trainer was smiling, truly pleased with the dragon he was bringing her to. A rare wyvern she had yet to see, captured during her fathers claim of the throne. The first of many dragons, leading her to a shadowed door the trainer pulled out his ring of keys and unlocked the heavy rusted gate. The shriek of the metal as its being pulled open made her cringe, this door needs to be replaced. Beckoning to her enthusiastically she swallowed and stepped in first, the stench of dried blood and decaying flesh hit her. Coughing she held her hand to her nose, eyes watering as the smells reached her the longer she stood there. The gate shutting had her looking over her shoulder, the trainer stepping past. Sighing she lowered her hand a fraction and followed the man, stopping before the pitch black of the steps to grab a torch and light it. The harsh glow of the fire had her blinking sharply, following down the steps it felt like she was entering the lair of the dead.

The putrid smell of death and blood grew as they went lower, she began to wonder if this was a good idea. A low roar filled the stairs, the sound was pitiful and full of pain. Frowning she didn't see the twisted grin on the trainers face, brows twitching closer over her eyes she swallowed and almost smiled in relief when they reached the last step. Pushing open the wooden door the trainer entered a stone passageway, one that was lit brightly and making it easier to see. Victoria heard of this passage, it leads to the arena. Where senior hunters were trained even more on capturing dragons, and on rare occasions where promising young hunters were taught to wrangle their first dragon. Something she was supposed to have done before she was tasked on her first hunt, yet here she was. Doing it in reverse, the dragon she was to go up against was a unique wyvern. A beast she had only heard as being strange, and very angry. 

It wasn't far until the reached the arena, an underground cave that had a single opening high in the ceiling. Showing light on what lay below, just before she reached the railing a shriek so loud that it made her ears and skull ring. Clapping her hands over her ears she gaped, the sound so shrill it pierced through her hands. The muffled crack of a whip wove to her ears, lowering her hands she walked swiftly to the railing. Her jaw-dropping at what she saw, a trainer was shouting and brandishing his whip. Snapping the heavy coil of leather, the flayed end reached out and struck the leg ripping open flesh to reveal the bloodied muscle underneath. Elicitating another scream from the dragon, the wyvern was truly unique. 

"How old is he?" Another scream cut through, eyes widening as she saw the young bull uncoil and launch forward. His head was sleek and smooth, reminding her of the eastern dragons. His nose a mix of dragon and fruit bath, aligned with his long muzzle. Boney plates of black adorned the top of the muzzle, flowing back to merge with a large set of horns. His horns spread wide and long, resembling a bull cow with their width. Four slender and tall ears were flattened against the young bulls maned neck, a large mass of fur that protected his neck to his shoulders. Large membraned wings were tucked against his side, small spines ran the length of his back and tail. His appendage was longer than him, thick ropes of muscle could be seen flexing under his hips as he spun around. The dragons back legs were powerful, ending in feet that closely resembled paws of a dog with the flexible toes of birds. His tail swung around, the appendage whistling as he came around to smash into the ground. Sending blood-soaked sand and the trainer into the air, a tail fan spread. Rising up on his legs the bull roared, wings spreading wide. 

Lowering he lifted his wings, the heavy thump of them beating the air as he tried to lift off. Hope shockingly rose in her chest, making her heart race. Rising with the steady beat of wings the young bull lifted higher, his head staring eagerly up at the arena's roof. This gave her a good view of the bull, he was a black male with tan points on his legs, underbelly, jaw, and tip of his tail. White freckled spots adorned his mane and the fur on the rest of his body, his mane being the only thickly furred area while the rest of his hide resembled the silk of velvet. The fronts of his legs were scaled with overlapping plates with sharp points, each paw ended in five toes with the left only having three, the last two were obviously cut off. He was even missing his dewclaws, evident by the scarring she could see on his right hind leg. A bull ring was pierced through his nose, a silver chain ran from the ring to a collar around his neck. Two chains, one on each side, ran down to his ankles and single chains from there swept down to the ground. 

"He's not even a full two Falla. Knock him down." Her head turned to the trainer, he had come up behind her to watch the dragon. Looking back she heard the groan of the trains becoming taught as the bull reached the end of his freedom, the heavy thumping of his wings the only sound before the clink of a ballista turning before a large bolt flew and buried into the bull's side. A broken cry rose from the bull, making her heart clench. The bolt had been dipped in sleeping powder, something that would take a while for dragons to fall under. But because this bull was so malnourished it was fast, she could only watch as the young bull fell. His weakened body hitting the earth with a deafening crash, the sound of bones breaking was clear. Not thinking she heaved herself over the rail, jumping over as the trainer shouted at her. Landing in the arena she stumbled from the fall, swaying to her feet she ran over to the bull. From where she was he seemed so large, but as she got closer she realized just how small he was. 

Bright red blood trickled from these wounds, giving her a good view of both the old and new ones. Not even two years old and this bull was more scarred than most soldiers she has seen, dropping to her knees she reached out to touch his muzzle when a hand clamped on her wrist. Looking up she found herself meeting the gaze of the trainer with the whip, his glare making he blood boil. Forcing her to her feet she was given a good view of his face, scars covered the left side of his head. Blinding himself in his left eye, his right-wing was at an odd angle obviously broken from the fall. Another bolt laced with sleep powder would be needed to set the wing, his wings were frayed from constant training and abuse. Even his horns were notched and full of nicks, blood also flowed freely from his nose. Making her worry even more about him, her eyes trailed over the bull as trainers ran out with a cloth and other supplies. A senior hunter came over with a ballista bolt and sleep powder, she was led away before she could see the hunter powder the bolt and slide it between plates after pulling out the other one.

CREDITS Table by Avis


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Victoria South, Kastalian King's Hunter


NameVictoria South
SpeciesHuman
ClassBarren
Age20
GenderFemale (she/her/hers)
PlayerStorm
TimezoneRoseVille, MN UTC -6
#2

-4 weeks later- (Viraenar's chitter https://youtu.be/ml6Y72G5rKI?t=123 )

The gods hate us
because we killed them
Ever since seeing the young bull she has made frequent trips to the arena to check on him, his wing was healing nicely. He still hasn't woken either, the only signs he was still alive was the steady rise and fall of his ribs. She had never seen a wyvern like this, let alone felt the way she did for this young bull. Her fingers had slid through his mane, marveling at the softness of the fur. Even his four ears were soft, another thing she failed to notice were the eight hoops in his ears. Each one was a different color, mimicking the royal colors of the king. Two in each ear, since his attempted escape the bull had been shackled down even more. The chains attached to the metal collar were keeping his neck and chest close to the ground, the ones around his ankles had been linked together and a final looser band was around his muzzle. Only giving him enough room to slide his tongue through, something she saw when sweetened water was brought in. His tongue was pointed and flexible, yet he had yet to open his eyes.

She had been reprimanded by the captain for jumping into the arena, she was a hunter. They aren't supposed to feel remorse for dragons. Yet why did she feel sorry for this young bull? A bull that she realized was older than her, it was a common lie for trainers to give out the wrong age for dragons. At least that was what she thought since the bull seemed more mature than a yearling should be. Her hand reached for his muzzle, not noticing the change in his breathing or that he was opening his eyes.

-Viraenar- The sharp smell of blood and something sweet, the scent brought him the distant memory of grass. Color and feeling he hasn't felt since his capture, so why was he smelling it here? His eyes opened slowly, the hazy and blurred shape of something sitting near his good eye had him confused. Along with it came the distinct smell of leather and other dragons, trying to piece the scent together his eye widened as he realized it was a hunter that was leaning over him. Panic set in, making his heart begin to beat fast. Jerking his head to the side he could only squeal at the bite of metal, the hunter fell on its bottom obviously shocked. Fighting to free his muzzle so he could defend himself he started thrashing around, clicks and chirps sounding from his throat. He had forgotten how to speak, why should he do so now? Metal groaned as he struggled, the sound of his chains striking the ground grew. The sound of the crueler humans with the painful vines made him panic even more, blood began to flow from his muzzle. The metal cuff around his muzzle cutting into his skin and through his scales, they snapped. Head rising he roared loudly, the sound echoed loudly through the arena. He was so frightened he felt something in his chest, it was warm and growing. 

Viraenar's fear grew, he was thrashing around like crazy, the sound of the door to his cave opened making him even more blind to fear. The faint sounds of shouts and running paws had him bristling, weakly he heard the chains breaking. His tail whipped around, knocking over the humans frantic to make him sleep again. His injured wing burned as he put weight on his front legs, almost falling over from the broken one. Yet he didn't feel how badly it burned, his adrenaline was too high. Warbling his fear he surged forward, galloping forward. His breaths left him in puffs as he ran out of his cell, other dragons heard the sounds and many crept forward to see what was going on. Running up the large cave hall he heard many cries, those who could speak voiced their pleas for freedom. Their words sounding strange to him, the cruel ones with vines squawked to others. Clearly wanting him back, not wanting to go back he ran blindly down the halls. His legs were so weak he kept tripping over himself in his hurry to escape, the distant whistle of wind reached him after he ran from a room that was full of heat. A forge, yet to him, he only knew it as a small volcano. Ears lifting he looked back at the cries that reached him, hobbling towards it he moved faster.

Head lowering he picked up speed, the booms of his knuckles striking the sandy earth as he ran towards the doors. Drowned out with the bang of his horns striking the metal, shocked that the first charge sent him through he tumbled onto his back. Flailing until he was on his belly, the humans ran towards him from the tunnel he had just burst from. Opening his jaws he roared, or he thought he did. Blue flames, albeit weak ones, rushed from his jaws. The blue tendrils licked up the humans' flesh and weak hides, their screams of pain made him flinch. Above him more were gathering, the familiar click of the trees that shot painful branches swung towards him. Hissing he breathed fire on them, only stopping long enough to flap his wings. Jumping into the air he kept flapping, breathing his fire on the humans who threw their sticks at him from their strange branches. For the first time, he wasn't held back by chains, he didn't feel the pain in his wing either. Reaching the top of the arena he could almost fit through, angry he roared and clawed at the rocky roof with his back paws. Stones falling down and crushing humans, twisting he managed to wiggle his way free. Crawling forward he barked and warbled, the cries of humans in shiny skin made him lookup. He was just outside the human alpha's stone nest, not that far from the castle itself. Not wanting to stay any longer he heaved himself up, he was getting tired. Letting out a mix of a chittering cry he ran away from the castle jumping into the air before he weakly and clumsily flew off.
CREDITS Table by Avis






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