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Thoronorin "Thorn" Wyrmblood

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1Thoronorin "Thorn" Wyrmblood Empty Thoronorin "Thorn" Wyrmblood on Mon Jan 13, 2014 12:28 pm


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Thoronorin “Thorn” Wyrmblood
(Born Thoronorin Baker)

Race: Drake (Strong Draconic Heritage)
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Height/Weight: 5'8” 182 lb
Class: Mage
Mage: Non-Specialist, Apprentice level
Religion: Helm
Alignment: Magic, the pursuit of knowledge, and the return of the dragons.
Personality: Young and wide eyed, Thorn still has a lot to learn about the world. He thinks the best of most situations, tries to find the good in people, and tries not to lose faith. Faith in his bloodline, his magic, his friends. He is a good kid, but he's still just that, a child. Despite his bloodline offering him a mastery of magic beyond his years he is still young, naive, and ignorant to the workings of the world.

However, things aren't all rainbows and kittens. Thorn has a dark side as well. He has inherited a dragonic hording instinct. Rather than gold or baubles, he hordes knowledge. Spells, books, trivia, anything. He craves knowledge and secrets, and his memory is astounding. He never forgets a face, name, or anything really. His memory is nearly perfect, though it takes him some time to recall any specific detail.

His desire to horde knowledge has driven him to the unthinkable, researching dark magic. Though he knows it is wrong and his teachers at the magic college would disapprove, he has delved into dark sorcery, rationalizing it as only morbid curiosity. He doesn't plan to use any of it. So that makes it ok, right?
Thoronorin "Thorn" Wyrmblood The_hybrid_by_pokeguin-d68unu1
Background/History: Dragons. The mere word calls forth images of winged monsters raining fire from the heavens. Well, to most. To a certain mage it instead evokes a feeling of power, or pride. It is, after all, his legacy. For he is Drake, descendant of the mighty dragons.

The circumstances of Thorn's birth are... peculiar. To hear his mother tell it she was visited one night at the tavern where she worked by a handsome gentleman. Their romance was like a roaring flame. Burned incredibly hot but was over far too quickly. She thought little else of the man, save for anger and rage. That is, until she started to show signs of being with child. She thought her son would be just another bastard, born of a night's indiscretion, yet she would love him all the same. She made this promise to herself.

And she kept it as best she could even when her son had scales, horns, and a tail. Her son was Drake, though she herself was not, and her lover showed no signs of such. Could he have been... No, such a thing would be unthinkable...

Regardless of his origins, the young boy was loved, and his mother did her best. But when your young son possesses innate magic, and his curiosity gets out of hand regularly, a young woman can only do so much. Not to say Thorn was a bad child, but he was energetic, curious, and his inquisitive nature often won out over common sense.

After a particularly bad episode which led to quite a bit of property damage, an aged wizard offered the boy an apprenticeship. He would be cared for, and made a student in a prestigious magic academy. He begged and pleaded with his mother, and at first she resisted, fearful of losing her only son, and fearing he might never return. Eventually she gave in, and he was enrolled. That was five years ago.

His days in class passed quickly. He is a creature of magic. He doesn't study magic, he does magic. While his teachers were often aged and tried to pass on years worth of experience, he soaked it up far to quickly. His professors futilely tried to get him to grasp magical theory, yet he was far to busy mastering magical practice. With an understanding of how a spell worked, he could master it without need of invocation, or formula. His teachers basically forced him to study theory simply to slow him down, and to prevent disaster. They feared that his knack for spell craft, his connection to Draconic magic, would lead him to destroy himself if he tried to force the Astral to do something it could not. That, and they feared he would surpass them before he turned 20.

Nowadays Thorn is the top of his classes, and he writes home every weekend, and visits at least once a month. His 20th birthday recently passed, and soon he will b forced to sign up as an Overnan Magic soldier. His master has arranged for him to be sent on missions that will allow him to experience the world, and better his understanding of the Overdark and it's people. His dreams? He has many, the most impressive is that he aspires to the title of Archmage. He aspires to greatness. To power worthy of his bloodline.

Roleplay Sample:

Really? Did they really think this would stop him? Or even slow him down? The creature roared menacingly. It was a nice touch, conjuring a lesser demon to stand against him. It wasn't enough though. The monster snarled, a mass of drool and fangs and claws. The young drake smiled, and brushed some of the thick fluid off of his robes with a clawed hand. The ooze clung to the scales on his hand, and with a thought it dissolved into steam. The monster didn't seem to notice, nor did it see that the magic that vaporized it's drool was continuing to coalesce. The air cracked and fizzled as the boy's will collected in the air, the Astral twisting in accordance to his mental commands. It was after all a simple spell, what need did he have of an incantation or hand gesture? He saw the magic, what it could do, and he willed it to be so.

And so he willed it to heat up, and explode. And it heated up and exploded, right in the monsters face. It was after all a simple spell, all wizards learned it. Why would he need words or gestures to conjure a fire ball?

The monster howled in pain as it staggered backwards. But it recovered quickly. Perhaps the wizard had under estimated this “lesser” demon? He lunged forward just as the young mage jumped out of the way. He tried to gather his focus, but the monster followed him, he had to keep moving. He was to cocky, he thought his first spell would finish it and all he did was piss it off.

So he ran, backwards, back down the hallway he had come from in the first place. He needed something different, something that wasn't fire. So, his mind grasped for something, and clung to it desperately, the Astral reacting to his silent desire before he had even formalized his request. The air, spurred on by the movement of arcane energies, moved against itself. Again it crackled with energy, but this time the heat was not the goal, but a side effect. He found the two energies, negative and positive. He separated them, and they came clashing back together with violent force. A flash filled the air as lightning arced from the mage to the monster.

Again it howled in pain, and the static that clung to it made it's muscle's twitch and lock up. The opening the mage needed to finish this. He delved into his mind, found the spell he was searching for, he felt the power of it. While other mages would need to say ancient words to invoke this magic, he simply felt the power thrum through him. It was intoxicating, this spell, much more powerful then the other two, the Astral seemed more eager to release it into the air. The demon had survived fire, and only been slowed down by lightning. But the Drake knew it would not stand against Light. Though the words were superfluous he spoke them anyway, the final words of the incantation, the name of the spell which other wizards cast and he experienced.

“Heaven's Borealis!” he spoke the name with authority, not because he needed to, but because it made him feel like a wizard. The light of the spell, a brilliant beam of divine energy which radiated a rainbow of colors, soared through the air, and seared the demon, the force knocking him back several feet, and the shock shattering his hold on this world. He faded just as the drake's eyes readjusted from the brilliance of the light-based spell. His satisfaction was short lived, as a voice called out from behind where the demon had originally stood,

“Two minutes forty-eight seconds. Just missed the record by fifteen seconds.” the upperclassman laughed. Thorn snarled, his dragonic nature not yet receded. He was sure he could run “The Guantlet” faster than the older boy. He has overcome all of the other wards and traps in record time, but the demon at the end...

“I would have beaten your damn record if you hadn't conjured that demon! Bloody cheater!” he growled, though it quickly turned into a goodhearted laugh. “Man, you gotta teach me that one, that thing was fierce! Took three spells to banish that bugger!”

“Only because you were showing off. You should have started with the light spell.” the older, by a few years, wizard replied. Thorn simply rolled his eyes.

The young drake may not be the strongest wizard in the academy, or even in his dorm, but he was a fast learner, and he knew he'd earn that title, Strongest Wizard, in due time. But first, he was going to learn that conjuring spell.

Magic: Thoronorim, aka Thorn, is a user of Draconic Magic, the first and most pure form of Arcane Magic. The strength of his Dragonic blood is manifested mostly in his magical ability. He learns spells quickly, and rather than memorize long invocations or formula, he feels the spell's energy, and in his mind this energy is stored and organized. It's difficult for him to explain, but it works. His ability to tap into the Astral is uncanny for a wizard of his level, and allows him to do more than cast a spell, he feels the spell, he becomes a conduit for the spell and the Astral to intertwine.

For Thorn to use a spell, he learns it differently from most mages. Rather than study the spells effects on the Astral, he focus on the Astral's effects on the material. His connection to the Astral makes controlling it relatively easy, so by focusing on the result of the spell he can bypass much of the arcane theory that slows other wizards down. However, that's not to say he can instantly master any spell. He must still study the spell. But once he has mastery of a spell, he can control it in ways that other wizards couldn't fathom.

For example, Fire Ball. A very simple spell. For most wizards they learn the proper words and symbols that coax the Astral into performing what is necessary for the spell to work. For Thorn, he simply feels the Astral moving the air as rapidly as possible until it combusts, and then maintaining this combustion until the process is released on the target. This understanding allows him more control over the spell, allowing him to hurl the fiery orb from almost anywhere he can see rather than just his hands like a normal wizard, who must use his body to mold the Astral's current. Or he can maintain the orb, consuming material rather than releasing the thermal energy. Or he can convert it into a ray, or change the color, or any number of things. This is his true power. He does not learn spells, he experiences them, Masters them.

Possessions: Thorn carries three pristine, leather bound books; a journal, a travel spell book, and his “Study Journal” where he writes about his understanding of magic and magical processes. His master insists on this, as it forces the boy to think about how magic works, rather than simply relying on the fact that it does.

His robes had to be custom tailored due to how much of his body is covered in rough scales. His upper body is covered by a white cloak with a high collar and a red trim. The chest is covered by simple, light, steel armor, polished to have a reflective surface. The armor was added at Thorn's request, and his chest and stomach are the only places not covered in scales, so he is a bit protective of them (much like a true dragon being careful not to expose it's less armored under-belly). Because his legs are scaled, pants usually rip, so he instead wears a long loincloth which matches his cloak..

For protection and utility he carries a simple dagger, and a plain wooden staff.

When traveling he carries a leather pack with food, money, writing supplies, water, candles, and a few arcane tools(scrying sphere, athame, chalice, various crystals, etc.)

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