Tristan Mac'yverne
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Login: Celtic8824
Character: Tristan Mac'yverne((Tristan's Background has been changed. If anyone has spoken with him and heard a different story, please disregard it and take this as the truth. Thanks!))
My name is Tristan Mac'yverne. My grandfather was a Bronze Dragon. So was my father. So shall I be.
A long time ago… about 150 years if the time was kept right... there was horrible evil flowing through these lands. Many creatures sought to cause pain and trouble to our lands, but they also kept to themselves. There were the orcs, the hobgoblins, the lizardmen and kobolds, all of the disgusting wretches that felt there was nothing more to life but to cause anguish onto hardworking men and women that were just trying to live their lives. By themselves, they were but a minor nuisence. Nothing more than fodder to die on the end of a sword. No matter what they did, they could be stopped before anything too horrible transpired.
This was until Vruudish came.
Vruudish was an Orcish Warlord. He was known for having united all of the orc tribes into one pillaging, raping, destructive force that ravaged our fine lands. There were rumors that he was a halfer. A half-orc that chose his father's path of savagery and destruction instead of his human mother's path of innocence and dedication. Vruudish did not stop when he united the orcs. He sent emissaries to speak with each of the horrid creatures that terrorized the areas. Before long, kobolds, lizardmen, hobgoblins, bugbears, and orcs were all united under Vruudish's banner. This force was something to be reckoned with. They took anything they wanted, and set fire to the world around them. Vruudish was a hateful creature, who had absolutely no respect for any life that was on this world save for his own.
On the Moonshae islands, there were a group of men and women that were unlike any that had stood against Vruudish. They were noble knights, trained and versed in the arcane magics, they were able to cast intricate spells in the bulky obstruction of full plate armor. Armored-mages of Moonshae that protected all of the lands of the Sword Coast with fiery hands and sharp blades. They lived only to protect their lands, and trained night and day to be prepared for any and all opposition that threatened the places which they held dear. The mage-knights knew of Vruudish, and knew that it was but a matter of time before they made their way west to the Sword Coast. They prepared for a confrontation, and sailed for the coast.
When they met on the battlefield, the knights were faced with odds they had not imagined. They were to be outnumbered fifty to one, even with the local militia recruits by their side. They had sent runners for aid in all directions, but nobody would answer their call. The rulers of nearby lands felt that the fight was not yet theirs, and that they would stay out of a battle that would mean nothing but loss to them.
With just a few hours left before Vruudish's army reached the area, an unlikely ally appeared, quite literally, from the air.
A noble bronze dragon landed directly in front of the leader of the knights. He had come across one of the runners that had been sent for aid from the neighboring kingdoms. Although the kingdoms were of no help, the dragon knew of the pain that Vruudish had been causing the lands, and offered his aid in the upcoming battle. With their new found ally, there seemed to actually be hope for the Sword Coast.
When the enemy arrived, neither side wasted any time in the battle. Orcish axes were buried in the chests of brave soldiers, bugbear leather was scorched by dragon's fire and arcane energies. Sharp blades pierced the mail of many lizardmen and hobgoblins.
Vruudish charged the noble dragon head on. His greataxe held high in an attempt to seperate the mighty creature's head from the rest of its body. The charge was an exercise in futility, however, as a mighty swing from the dragon's sharp claws cleaved Vruudish into three bloody pieces. Seeing the death of their leader, the wretched troops of the uniting warlord were filled with rage and converged on the bronze dragon. It fought as hard as it could, before it was cut down by the many axes and spears of the evil beings.
When the dragon fell, sadness took the area almost immediately. There was no time for grieving, as the enemy force was now gathered in a small area, due to the slaying of the mighty beast. The armored knights silently raised their arms, and caused a hail of fiery stones to fall from the sky, smashing and burning all of the creatures that had just cut down their friend.
With the battle over, the time for grieving had arrived. The knights performed a proper burial for their noble warrior friend and aid-bringer that had single-handedly turned the battle from what would have been a slaughter, into a victory for the forces of the just and honorable. With Vruudish gone, the lands were once again safe, and knights returned home to the Moonshae Isles.
From that point forward, the Armored mages vowed to take up the name and emblem of their savior that day, and vowed to always aid those that are in need of help. Calling themselves the Bronze Dragons, and emblazoning a bronze dragon on their shields, cloaks, and tunics... they traveled the lands protecting those who were unable to protect themselves.
My father and grandfather had the honor of bearing the emblem of the Dragons, and now I hope to do the same. I have seen forty or so winters, thanks to my elven mother, and now I will travel these lands, helping those who need it, and proving that I am worthy of the Bronze. I will seek out any noble dragons and tell them of their kin, who came to us in our time of need, and gave his life as a sacrifice to prolong the lives of many good men and women. In this way, I will honor his death. I will never forget my vows, and If I ever stray from these ideals, may I be stripped of my honor as well as the crest of the Bronze Dragons on my chest. These are my promises, and I intend to keep them.
My name is Tristan Mac'yverne. And I am a Bronze Dragon.
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Reviewd, XP Pending.
