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The Rhyot Break - Chapter One: Endless White
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<blockquote data-quote="tglassy" data-source="post: 7480510" data-attributes="member: 6855204"><p>To most at the Break, Thorin is "That Dragonborn". Tall and muscular, with strength befitting his size, he was often put on the most strenuous work detail. He was also a Silver Dragonborn, and thus resisted the cold weather well. Indeed, the coldest night was little more than a cool breeze to his skin, and actually felt good after a long day's mining. </p><p></p><p>He did not speak much to the others, going about obeying his orders with silent indignation. He hadn't glared at the Korrud openly in five years, since they nearly beat him to death for doing so. They believed him broken. And, in truth, he may as well have been, if not for the cold fury he harbored in the pit of his soul, hidden from all to see. </p><p></p><p>In his moments of deepest despair, he returned to prayer for his strength. He had grown up in a temple to the Unnamed Dragon God, and had learned all the prayers, same as any priest or holly warrior. Only, while he was strong enough, he had no skill with weapons or fighting. And while he was fervent in his prayers and dedication, he received no blessings from the Unnamed God, as did some others. Even worse, he also showed no potential for the draconic magic that sometimes touched one of his people. He was a nothing, a simple Acolyte, when he was captured and taken by the Korrud. The Draconic Sorcerers of his people were regarded at the same level as the Priests and Holy Warriors. Thorin was neither. </p><p></p><p>Often, he could be found at night, braving the fierce cold to sit alone. The Korrud wouldn't worry about him running away. Where would he run to? But he enjoyed the solitude. </p><p></p><p>It is there that this newcomer found him, along on the mountain, watching the stars. He could not help but go with. </p><p></p><p>But something happened when she released him from his shackles. He felt a...connection with the cold around him. A bonding. A Power. </p><p></p><p>His blood froze in his body, running cool rivers through his scales, into his muscles, into his very being. He could feel it, the power of the ancient dragons, flowing within him. He smiled as he followed, knowing his fate had not yet been sealed. </p><p></p><p>For six long years, he has been here.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="tglassy, post: 7480510, member: 6855204"] To most at the Break, Thorin is "That Dragonborn". Tall and muscular, with strength befitting his size, he was often put on the most strenuous work detail. He was also a Silver Dragonborn, and thus resisted the cold weather well. Indeed, the coldest night was little more than a cool breeze to his skin, and actually felt good after a long day's mining. He did not speak much to the others, going about obeying his orders with silent indignation. He hadn't glared at the Korrud openly in five years, since they nearly beat him to death for doing so. They believed him broken. And, in truth, he may as well have been, if not for the cold fury he harbored in the pit of his soul, hidden from all to see. In his moments of deepest despair, he returned to prayer for his strength. He had grown up in a temple to the Unnamed Dragon God, and had learned all the prayers, same as any priest or holly warrior. Only, while he was strong enough, he had no skill with weapons or fighting. And while he was fervent in his prayers and dedication, he received no blessings from the Unnamed God, as did some others. Even worse, he also showed no potential for the draconic magic that sometimes touched one of his people. He was a nothing, a simple Acolyte, when he was captured and taken by the Korrud. The Draconic Sorcerers of his people were regarded at the same level as the Priests and Holy Warriors. Thorin was neither. Often, he could be found at night, braving the fierce cold to sit alone. The Korrud wouldn't worry about him running away. Where would he run to? But he enjoyed the solitude. It is there that this newcomer found him, along on the mountain, watching the stars. He could not help but go with. But something happened when she released him from his shackles. He felt a...connection with the cold around him. A bonding. A Power. His blood froze in his body, running cool rivers through his scales, into his muscles, into his very being. He could feel it, the power of the ancient dragons, flowing within him. He smiled as he followed, knowing his fate had not yet been sealed. For six long years, he has been here. [/QUOTE]
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