Skeith Takahata II
Lesbian Anarchist
- Joined
- Feb 26, 2009
- Location
- Elsewhere
It had been ten years. Ten long and hard years since she had returned from town to watch her family's farm burn in the moonlight. Her entire life reduced to ash before her eyes. Everyone she had ever known and loved were gone. Not even bodies were left for her to bury. As she looked up, through tear stained eyes, she could see the silhouette of a dragon, flying away against the full moon. That would not be the last dragon she saw.
The decade that followed would be spent training her body and mind. Building her strength, honing her reflexes, mastering the sword, and learning all she could about dragon kind. With seven dragons having fallen to her sword, she had earned a reputation as one of the most dangerous dragon slayers in the known world. It was said reputation that would lead to her recruitment to a rebellion, made up of mostly untrained farmers and defecting soldiers, to rid the world of the Drakhen Empire. A terrible nation that had begun to employ dragons in their ranks to increase their dominion.
That day, late into the evening, the dragon slayer plunged head long into battle, aiding the rebels in their attempt to conquer one of the Empire's keeps. Rumor had it that a dragon had been brought here, and she would be the one who killed it. She wore black armor, complete with face concealing helmet, and a blood red cloak. She carved her way through enemy soldiers with ease. Her heavy two handed sword, designed to pierce dragon hide, cut easily through human weapons and armor. A grunt of pain, muffled by her mask could be heard as she fell to her knees. An arrow was protruding out of her stomach. Two more entered her body. One in her shoulder and the other in her chest. She forced herself to stand, facing down the archers and swordsmen who stood in her way. With a loud roar of anger she charged forward again.
Soon she emerged in the keep's courtyard. A trail of blood behind her from her many injuries. She froze at the sight of her prize. But it wasn't what she expected. She thought she would see a dragon, armored and ready for battle, with its rider on its back. What she saw was a dragon, chained to the ground, wings staked to the dirt. She hoisted her helmet off of her head as she approached, revealing her messy blond hair and striking blue eyes. She limped towards the dragon, lifting the blade above her head. She wanted to execute it. The dragon was female. A brood mother could birth many more dragons, killing it would be an incredibly victory for her. "I should end you." With a grunt, she let the blade fall to the side. She clutched her stomach, grunting as she panted. She struggled to keep herself standing as her vision blurred. "But, my battle can't end here." She looked back towards the sounds of battle. "I propose a pact. That is in your power to grant, yes? I'm not ready to die, and I suspect you aren't either." She grit her teeth as she heard the gates crash open and soldiers poor in to stop her. "Your answer, dragon! A pact with me or death!"
The decade that followed would be spent training her body and mind. Building her strength, honing her reflexes, mastering the sword, and learning all she could about dragon kind. With seven dragons having fallen to her sword, she had earned a reputation as one of the most dangerous dragon slayers in the known world. It was said reputation that would lead to her recruitment to a rebellion, made up of mostly untrained farmers and defecting soldiers, to rid the world of the Drakhen Empire. A terrible nation that had begun to employ dragons in their ranks to increase their dominion.
That day, late into the evening, the dragon slayer plunged head long into battle, aiding the rebels in their attempt to conquer one of the Empire's keeps. Rumor had it that a dragon had been brought here, and she would be the one who killed it. She wore black armor, complete with face concealing helmet, and a blood red cloak. She carved her way through enemy soldiers with ease. Her heavy two handed sword, designed to pierce dragon hide, cut easily through human weapons and armor. A grunt of pain, muffled by her mask could be heard as she fell to her knees. An arrow was protruding out of her stomach. Two more entered her body. One in her shoulder and the other in her chest. She forced herself to stand, facing down the archers and swordsmen who stood in her way. With a loud roar of anger she charged forward again.
Soon she emerged in the keep's courtyard. A trail of blood behind her from her many injuries. She froze at the sight of her prize. But it wasn't what she expected. She thought she would see a dragon, armored and ready for battle, with its rider on its back. What she saw was a dragon, chained to the ground, wings staked to the dirt. She hoisted her helmet off of her head as she approached, revealing her messy blond hair and striking blue eyes. She limped towards the dragon, lifting the blade above her head. She wanted to execute it. The dragon was female. A brood mother could birth many more dragons, killing it would be an incredibly victory for her. "I should end you." With a grunt, she let the blade fall to the side. She clutched her stomach, grunting as she panted. She struggled to keep herself standing as her vision blurred. "But, my battle can't end here." She looked back towards the sounds of battle. "I propose a pact. That is in your power to grant, yes? I'm not ready to die, and I suspect you aren't either." She grit her teeth as she heard the gates crash open and soldiers poor in to stop her. "Your answer, dragon! A pact with me or death!"