Grand Druid
The elf sat amidst a nest of vegetation--bushes cushioned him, vines clung and embraced his form and flowers bloomed against his flesh. His eyes were closed, perhaps in communion with nature, with a look of serenity painted across his soft, yet weathered features. His skin was shockly pale, nearly the hue of polished bone, with spidery silver tattoos slithering across his bared chest, entwining around his arms and crawling up his neck to cusp his checks in their folds and curves. He seemed to care little about his appearance, wearing little beyond the tattered skirts of some old black robe, and his hair was as tangled as it was long, falling against his thin shoulders to pool behind his back. His forearms rested upon his thighs, with his hands--little more than slender, dexterous claws--baring palms skywards. Great, bat-like wings fanned out to his sides, beating slowly and lazily to bring the winds to motion, and a serpentine tail coiled around his thin waist. Then slowly did his eyes open, revealing them to be of a profoundly deep blue, looking out with a deep understanding and communion of the world around him. And so did the pale druid give a small smile as he was taken by the primal song of the great, wild world.
Archmage
A drow stood beneath a grand archway, a structure made of a deep, cloudy grey stone that danced like quicksilver in the light. The dark elf was something of interest as well, wearing fine black robes that draped loosely against his form. He wore his silver hair long--very long--all the way down to his soft leather boots, in fact. And circling above that groomed waterfall of hair spun five stones, each glowing with their inner light--a deep blue sapphire, a fiery red ruby, a piercing violet amnethyst, verdant green emerald, and a clear, white kings tear. In one clawed, ebony hand the drow mage held a blackwood staff topped with a dragon claw made of silver clenched into a fist. His other hand he held before himself an open scroll yellowed with age. Fading letters of some long dead language were scrawled across its cracked surface. His crisp, blue eyes rovered over the ancient words and his thin lips murmured them quietly. The fluttering gem motes reacted to the incantation, winking and flaring and orbiting ever faster. The air within the archway, too, began to respond, the air within seeming to churn and twist until, with a great flash, a portal into dark nothingness stood as a gash in the air.
Warmage
The wild-eyed drow thrust his hands forward, screaming a sharp incantation, and from those clawed fingertips roared flames black as pitch that withered life and tore the soul rather than scourch and burn. An entire division fell to the blighting flames. Archers strung arrows and let fly a piercing cloud of arrows. The mage glanced their way and hissed a quick spell. And with a pointed look upon the volley of deadly shafts--the arrows burst into flames so that only ashes inconvenienced the dark elf. The bowmen grimly grit their teeth and readied another volley, but the mage would have none of that. Grafting a quick symbol in the air before him, the drow disclaimed in that sharp tongue of mages and thrust his hand through the center of the imagined glyph. And from that hand sprang to life a great bolt of lightning that snarled upon the lightly armored men like a diving wyrm, lancing through one man to strike the next. They were soon reduced to smoldering massed of flesh. And that hellish drow just laughed and laughed in a way no sane man could ever laugh. Enshrowed within a heavily tattered cloak adorned with scavanged plates of armor, and with wild, unkept hair flailing in the wind, the drow was truly a frightful sight. And that fierce, fanged grin did much to keep even war-hardened veterans at bay as the battlecrazed mage began weaving more slaying magicks with much enthusiasm.
Beast of the Wild Wood
It was but a fleeting sight, but it had been most frightfully real. A creature of darkness, wreathed in coiling shadows that moved in distrubing silence. Ha, but if one could only catch a closer glance, they'd see something quite different, however still frightening. Black skinn was pulled taunt over the bones and sinew of what once might have been elf, leaving now a wretched creature twisted by magic. It crouched low with its back bent and shoulders hunched forward, leaving its hands--or more accurately put, claws--to hang closer to the earth so that it might lope upon all fours at any moment. Its legs were clearly humanoid in nature, though they were quite slender and ended in claws just like its arms. Hanging from its wretched frame were the remains of old black robes, now little more than tatters that roiled around its body like angry darkness in the breeze. From its hindquarters sprouted a long, serpentine tail sheathed in glittering black scales. The end twitched as if it were nervous. From its shoulderblaes sprung two fanning bat-like wings that flicked anxiously. Its face was clearly of elven decent, what with the pointed ears and the once-beautiful features that peaked out from the feral snarl and bared fangs. Its hair was horrendously long and terribly ragged and dirty, the strands having lost a once bright sheen of silver were now a listless grey. From atop its head amidst its mane curled back two long, curving horns that looked rather encumbersome. Its eyes were wide and wild, the pupils nearly lost in the roiling steel grey that infected the whites of its eyes even as it encases its irises. They were little more than pools of storm clouds, glowing faintly with an eerie light.
Disciple of Io
The elf knelt amidst a field of pure white lilies that were nearly as ivory as the elf's flesh. His hands were clasped before him, perhaps in prayer, with murmured words whispering from his thin lips. He wore his hair long and rather unkept, though the lengthy silver locks glistened like quicksilver, letting it tumble down his back. He wore robes that seemed to shimmer with ever color thought visible by man, though the garment turned grey if a cloud cast a shadow across his form. And hanging from his shoulders was an old black travelers cloak that was ratty and tattered and seemed rather out of place on his person. When finally he was finished, the elf opened his bright sapphire eyes and the medallion rested upon his breast--a disk of every color swirled and misting together--glowed just slightly, no where near as brightly as the glow of the elf's eyes. Moving to stand with a flowing grace that would make a nymph flush in jealousy, the elf man looked upon the marker he had left; a somewhat plain ivory stone with a steel-chained necklace resting upon it. The words Rest Peacefully, Beloved Dalstinnia were just visible under the shiny sandstone amulet. And before he left, the elf said so very quietly, "Thank you."
Moonwyrm
The titanic dragon seemed to tower over all, stanced upon four mighty limbs that somehow stayed slender and graceful despite their size. Its entire body was sheathed in scales that seemed like mirrors reflecting the moons light, each one as big as a giant's shield. The wyrm's head was perched upon a great road of a neck and was crowned by two huge, curving back-swept horns and a bristling ridge of hornlets atop its scaly brows. Its cavernous maw was filled with fangs as long as a man is tall, framing a forked tongue of a deep violet hue. Its eyes were gigantic molten orbs the color of sapphires with a pupil that was little more than a black sword-swipe across its surface. Its tail seemed to stretch on forever, lashing and twitching along its path, and still it ended in a whiplike tip. Across its expansive spine rose a towering frilled crest, proudly held tall. Its wings were perhaps its most impressive features, spreading wide to envelope the world, it seemed. However they did not cast the world in shadow, but filled it with the silvery glow of the full moon, sometimes causing the wolves to howl. They were just as leathery and bat-like as any drakes, but their span somehow doubled the dragon's body length, and when they were held at rest, they each resembled the crescent moon.
Others to come, perhaps...
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Rakashi's Chronicles
Mere typings-downs that I decide to make public, I guess. I doubt it will be anything beyond stuff about my rp stuff, but, hey, you never know...!
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