Post by Shanza on Jun 28, 2010 14:34:50 GMT -5
This guy is not a cannon, I just created him & didn't have much ideas for him. I think he'd be neat to play, & if no one adopts him & I have time I'll work him in somehow. He doesn't have any magick, and he despises it.
Rashock
Name: Rashock
Species: Pegasus
Breed: Zvon
Age: 14
Gender: Stallion
Color: Dark Grulla
Height: 13.3 hh
Markings: blaze, fore stockings, hind socks
Personality: stubborn obstinate, determined, hates magick with a passion
Past History: has worked his way to be leader of one of the largest Zvon herds in the Helargar Mountains
Rashock swept his wings forward to land softly in the mountain meadow. 'Impudent youngsters,' he thought as several foals scurried out of his way. 'In my father's day that kind of disrespect wouldn't have gone unpunished.'
"Back so soon?" a soft voice asked.
He glanced toward then quickly away from the speaker. The speaker was unwelcome filth, and knew it, but they couldn't get rid of him. Ever since he arrived at the herd it was as if they were living under a dark, brooding, storm cloud that threatened to wipe away all they knew and cared about.
"Yes, I'm back."
"Where did you go?" That same, sickly sweet voice coming from the stallion's mouth bothered Rashock more than he cared to think about.
"That's none of your business."
"Fine then."
Rashock sighed with relief when he was gone. The small stallion was unlike any he knew. He had a look in his eyes that edged toward insanity, and Rashock didn't know what would happen if he ever lost his temper.
The herd would be able to handle the stranger physically, but small red dun reeked of magic. Magic! Rashock spat. He thought he was done dealing with the wretched stuff when they cast Zvion out. They'd better find a way to deal with the stranger, and quickly. Rashock didn't know how long the herd would stand to have him in it's mist.
Rashock
Name: Rashock
Species: Pegasus
Breed: Zvon
Age: 14
Gender: Stallion
Color: Dark Grulla
Height: 13.3 hh
Markings: blaze, fore stockings, hind socks
Personality: stubborn obstinate, determined, hates magick with a passion
Past History: has worked his way to be leader of one of the largest Zvon herds in the Helargar Mountains
Rashock swept his wings forward to land softly in the mountain meadow. 'Impudent youngsters,' he thought as several foals scurried out of his way. 'In my father's day that kind of disrespect wouldn't have gone unpunished.'
"Back so soon?" a soft voice asked.
He glanced toward then quickly away from the speaker. The speaker was unwelcome filth, and knew it, but they couldn't get rid of him. Ever since he arrived at the herd it was as if they were living under a dark, brooding, storm cloud that threatened to wipe away all they knew and cared about.
"Yes, I'm back."
"Where did you go?" That same, sickly sweet voice coming from the stallion's mouth bothered Rashock more than he cared to think about.
"That's none of your business."
"Fine then."
Rashock sighed with relief when he was gone. The small stallion was unlike any he knew. He had a look in his eyes that edged toward insanity, and Rashock didn't know what would happen if he ever lost his temper.
The herd would be able to handle the stranger physically, but small red dun reeked of magic. Magic! Rashock spat. He thought he was done dealing with the wretched stuff when they cast Zvion out. They'd better find a way to deal with the stranger, and quickly. Rashock didn't know how long the herd would stand to have him in it's mist.
