Post by The Dragons Disciple on Mar 28, 2014 9:05:36 GMT -5
Image:
Outside of armor:
Name: Tyrith Adrazi
Alias: The "Dragons" Disciple
Class: Fighter
Race: Human
Age: 28
Occupation: Wanderer/Ex-Armorsmith/Ex-Mechanic
Residence: None
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Abilities:(if needed)
Knows the basics of hand-to-hand and spear based combat from researching proper techniques. Generally only has to deal with bar brawls and low class thieves and bandits.
Used his mechanical knowledge to set up a system in his armor that allows him to mimic a dragons fire breath when his visor is down. Can only be done once before he needs to refill his fuel.
Traveling in his armor for nearly all of 7 years has left his legs much stronger than they had previously been. His movement speed and jumping ability are almost not at all inhibited due to design suggestions from other smiths Tyrith has known.
Equipment:
His "Dragon Scale" armor is actually a Steel alloy that he shaped with the help of a other smiths to be as intimidating as possible.
The "Dragons Claw" spear is made pure steel.
Relationships: Mother: Eliza Adrazi. Father: Estranged.
Description: Underneath his visor are wisps of light blonde hair and unnaturally blue eyes. He stands at roughly 6'1" without his armor and weighs 175 lbs. He always carries a large backpack of gear and a flask that he refills at every opportunity.
Biography: Tyrith was born as the son of a Zaunite scientist and his assistant, Eliza Adrazi. When his father denied that the child was his, the mother left for a small village in Ionia, the place she knew she would never see him again. The young woman raised the child in bliss for the first few years of his life. When the war came, no one was prepared for it. Though their town hadn't been hit, distrust rushed through the town. The experiments Eliza had helped perform over the years had left their mark on her body and soul, and it wasn't long before the people of the village recognized her as such. While they pretended to be nice to her face, she could hear their words were filled with venom and hatred. They charged her more than the rest of the village for basic essentials, making sure she could get just enough to survive with the child, but never enough to be comfortable. They accused her of being a spy and that she was scouting their village.
By the time Tyrith was seven Elizas health was already beginning to fail, making it impossible for them to leave the village, especially with the combined forces of Zaun and Noxus at the borders. She began to teach him practical skills as quickly as she could, knowing in her heart that she wouldn't be with him much longer. Tyrith was particularly interested in fixing things that were broken, an irony that was not lost on his mother. She began to show him any non-hextech related books she had brought with her from Zaun and she would smile every time the boys eyes would light up with questions. They were nothing like the actual experiments she had done for the boys father, but she felt that was for the best.
Eliza was only able to hold on another two years before she passed. This sent Tyrith into despair, causing him to get into fights constantly in school. The other students would tease him about having been born in Zaun, and while this wasn't a new development, with his mother gone Tyrith no longer had the strength to ignore them. Tyrith, now alone, was taken in by a local blacksmith who took pity on the boy. While he wasn't renowned, he was a very good teacher to Tyrith. The old man imparted all the knowledge he could into the boy, impressed with his inquisitive nature and willingness to learn. He even encouraged Tyrith to use the books his mother left him to make small machines and devices. The only catch was that he had to make anything of metal that he needed by hand. He'd hoped that with these distractions, Tyrith might calm down and stop fighting. This was unfortunately not the case.
Tyriths adoptive father passed when he was nineteen, leaving behind a wild and unchecked young man. Two years later proved that the old blacksmiths fears were correct. Tyrith got into a fight over his heritage and drunkenly claimed to have been adopted by a Dragon, an idea his opponent found laughable since he knew the blacksmith himself. Tyrith went on to claim that the old blacksmith had been a Dragon the whole time, even claiming to have used the scales to make himself some armor and that he was taught to breath fire. His opponent gave Tyrith a thorough beating and left him with a week to leave the village for disgracing the old blacksmiths name, a challenge he couldn't pass up.
Tyrith threw himself into making the armor he claimed to have already completed for the next week. He called in nearly every favor he was owed by other local merchants for the materials as well as blacksmiths in the surrounding areas who helped with the design and textures of the armor. When it came time for his showdown, his opponent was stunned at what he saw. Being completely convinced that the steel alloy Tyrith used for the armor was actually dragon scale, and the incredible spear he'd made with leftover metal that he claimed was a dragons claw, all the young man could use to get Tyrith to leave was the fire breath. Inside of his armor, a sack filled with gas is attached to a small plastic hose. Tyrith lowered the visor on his helmet, releasing a clamp that allows a stream of flammable gas to flow out of the pressurized sack, through the hose, and out of the front of the visor at an angle away from him. After about a second, enough gas had filled the area that a small spark from his glove ignited the gas. The fire is quick to spread in the air then immediately burns out, igniting only quick burning materials. The display was enough to convince the thug, who had never seen a dragon before, that he was telling the truth.
Though Tyrith was proud of his accomplishment, it somehow felt hollow. He began to feel ashamed that he had used the name of the man who took him in and taught him so much when he was all alone in the world for such a petty fight. The guilt rose within him so much that most days he wouldn't even return home or to the shop. His orders began to fall behind. After one particularly heavy night of drinking, Tyrith decided he needed to leave. The children who had teased him growing up had turned into good people and, more often than not, his drinking buddies. They treated him kindly and apologized for their behavior when they were young, but Tyrith really didn't feel a strong connection to them. Without his "father," he just wanted to leave in the hopes that he might find a place he felt he belonged. "I've got nothing to keep me here now," were the final words he said to his adoptive-fathers and mothers graves after selling his home and business.
The next seven years of his life, Tyrith found pretty satisfying. He has traveled all across Valoran doing as much good as possible while getting into as little trouble as he could help, though the bar room brawls seem to keep finding him. In order to fund his travels, anytime he has been offered payment he has accepted. When he hasn't been offered payment, he has requested favors such as transportation or a room for the night. Other times, when no such work was available, he has chosen to go back to his old craft and work temporarily for small blacksmith shops. This has led to him staying in small towns more often than anywhere else.
His favorite place to stop has been Piltover, though he makes sure to never open his backpack while he is there to ensure no one sees his mothers books. He visits as many of the workshops as he can on every trip, though he dares not venture near Heimerdingers workshop. While in Demacia, he removes his armor and stashes it wherever he happens to be staying, for fear that he might stumble across Shyvana, who would know he was a fake in an instant. This has made it difficult for him to take on jobs, as he is a less capable fighter than his armor allows him to be with the enhancements he has made. In Zaun and Noxus, Tyrith looks for as many jobs as possible, though he stays away from high profile jobs in these regions as they attract the eye of Zaun businesses and Noxian government officials.
Long Term Objective: To find the place he can do the most good, while maybe getting a good drink along the way. Eventually he hopes to grasp a place of power where he can do some true good for a larger number of people, even if he has to give up his wandering lifestyle.
Development: Tyrith Adrazi
Further Developement: Tyrith Adrazi
Outside of armor:
Name: Tyrith Adrazi
Alias: The "Dragons" Disciple
Class: Fighter
Race: Human
Age: 28
Occupation: Wanderer/Ex-Armorsmith/Ex-Mechanic
Residence: None
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Abilities:(if needed)
Knows the basics of hand-to-hand and spear based combat from researching proper techniques. Generally only has to deal with bar brawls and low class thieves and bandits.
Used his mechanical knowledge to set up a system in his armor that allows him to mimic a dragons fire breath when his visor is down. Can only be done once before he needs to refill his fuel.
Traveling in his armor for nearly all of 7 years has left his legs much stronger than they had previously been. His movement speed and jumping ability are almost not at all inhibited due to design suggestions from other smiths Tyrith has known.
Equipment:
His "Dragon Scale" armor is actually a Steel alloy that he shaped with the help of a other smiths to be as intimidating as possible.
The "Dragons Claw" spear is made pure steel.
Relationships: Mother: Eliza Adrazi. Father: Estranged.
Description: Underneath his visor are wisps of light blonde hair and unnaturally blue eyes. He stands at roughly 6'1" without his armor and weighs 175 lbs. He always carries a large backpack of gear and a flask that he refills at every opportunity.
Biography: Tyrith was born as the son of a Zaunite scientist and his assistant, Eliza Adrazi. When his father denied that the child was his, the mother left for a small village in Ionia, the place she knew she would never see him again. The young woman raised the child in bliss for the first few years of his life. When the war came, no one was prepared for it. Though their town hadn't been hit, distrust rushed through the town. The experiments Eliza had helped perform over the years had left their mark on her body and soul, and it wasn't long before the people of the village recognized her as such. While they pretended to be nice to her face, she could hear their words were filled with venom and hatred. They charged her more than the rest of the village for basic essentials, making sure she could get just enough to survive with the child, but never enough to be comfortable. They accused her of being a spy and that she was scouting their village.
By the time Tyrith was seven Elizas health was already beginning to fail, making it impossible for them to leave the village, especially with the combined forces of Zaun and Noxus at the borders. She began to teach him practical skills as quickly as she could, knowing in her heart that she wouldn't be with him much longer. Tyrith was particularly interested in fixing things that were broken, an irony that was not lost on his mother. She began to show him any non-hextech related books she had brought with her from Zaun and she would smile every time the boys eyes would light up with questions. They were nothing like the actual experiments she had done for the boys father, but she felt that was for the best.
Eliza was only able to hold on another two years before she passed. This sent Tyrith into despair, causing him to get into fights constantly in school. The other students would tease him about having been born in Zaun, and while this wasn't a new development, with his mother gone Tyrith no longer had the strength to ignore them. Tyrith, now alone, was taken in by a local blacksmith who took pity on the boy. While he wasn't renowned, he was a very good teacher to Tyrith. The old man imparted all the knowledge he could into the boy, impressed with his inquisitive nature and willingness to learn. He even encouraged Tyrith to use the books his mother left him to make small machines and devices. The only catch was that he had to make anything of metal that he needed by hand. He'd hoped that with these distractions, Tyrith might calm down and stop fighting. This was unfortunately not the case.
Tyriths adoptive father passed when he was nineteen, leaving behind a wild and unchecked young man. Two years later proved that the old blacksmiths fears were correct. Tyrith got into a fight over his heritage and drunkenly claimed to have been adopted by a Dragon, an idea his opponent found laughable since he knew the blacksmith himself. Tyrith went on to claim that the old blacksmith had been a Dragon the whole time, even claiming to have used the scales to make himself some armor and that he was taught to breath fire. His opponent gave Tyrith a thorough beating and left him with a week to leave the village for disgracing the old blacksmiths name, a challenge he couldn't pass up.
Tyrith threw himself into making the armor he claimed to have already completed for the next week. He called in nearly every favor he was owed by other local merchants for the materials as well as blacksmiths in the surrounding areas who helped with the design and textures of the armor. When it came time for his showdown, his opponent was stunned at what he saw. Being completely convinced that the steel alloy Tyrith used for the armor was actually dragon scale, and the incredible spear he'd made with leftover metal that he claimed was a dragons claw, all the young man could use to get Tyrith to leave was the fire breath. Inside of his armor, a sack filled with gas is attached to a small plastic hose. Tyrith lowered the visor on his helmet, releasing a clamp that allows a stream of flammable gas to flow out of the pressurized sack, through the hose, and out of the front of the visor at an angle away from him. After about a second, enough gas had filled the area that a small spark from his glove ignited the gas. The fire is quick to spread in the air then immediately burns out, igniting only quick burning materials. The display was enough to convince the thug, who had never seen a dragon before, that he was telling the truth.
Though Tyrith was proud of his accomplishment, it somehow felt hollow. He began to feel ashamed that he had used the name of the man who took him in and taught him so much when he was all alone in the world for such a petty fight. The guilt rose within him so much that most days he wouldn't even return home or to the shop. His orders began to fall behind. After one particularly heavy night of drinking, Tyrith decided he needed to leave. The children who had teased him growing up had turned into good people and, more often than not, his drinking buddies. They treated him kindly and apologized for their behavior when they were young, but Tyrith really didn't feel a strong connection to them. Without his "father," he just wanted to leave in the hopes that he might find a place he felt he belonged. "I've got nothing to keep me here now," were the final words he said to his adoptive-fathers and mothers graves after selling his home and business.
The next seven years of his life, Tyrith found pretty satisfying. He has traveled all across Valoran doing as much good as possible while getting into as little trouble as he could help, though the bar room brawls seem to keep finding him. In order to fund his travels, anytime he has been offered payment he has accepted. When he hasn't been offered payment, he has requested favors such as transportation or a room for the night. Other times, when no such work was available, he has chosen to go back to his old craft and work temporarily for small blacksmith shops. This has led to him staying in small towns more often than anywhere else.
His favorite place to stop has been Piltover, though he makes sure to never open his backpack while he is there to ensure no one sees his mothers books. He visits as many of the workshops as he can on every trip, though he dares not venture near Heimerdingers workshop. While in Demacia, he removes his armor and stashes it wherever he happens to be staying, for fear that he might stumble across Shyvana, who would know he was a fake in an instant. This has made it difficult for him to take on jobs, as he is a less capable fighter than his armor allows him to be with the enhancements he has made. In Zaun and Noxus, Tyrith looks for as many jobs as possible, though he stays away from high profile jobs in these regions as they attract the eye of Zaun businesses and Noxian government officials.
Long Term Objective: To find the place he can do the most good, while maybe getting a good drink along the way. Eventually he hopes to grasp a place of power where he can do some true good for a larger number of people, even if he has to give up his wandering lifestyle.
Development: Tyrith Adrazi
Further Developement: Tyrith Adrazi
