Szrevan the Serpent King, Blademaster of WarlordsSzrevan created on 23rd of July 2021, and is currently 29 years old (236 hours played).
Title: the Serpent King, Blademaster of Warlords
Class: slith warrior
- The path of the forsaken - posted at 2021-07-23 02:53:01
- Coalesce - Breathe In - posted at 2021-07-24 19:48:41
- Vendetta of the Serpent King - posted at 2021-09-26 16:38:21
The path of the forsaken"You don't have to leave. You ssheek Weh, but Sra keepssh you ssafe..."
Sz'revan loomed in the doorway to his hovel, staring at all he had and was
reflecting on how useless it all had become. So much thought and time used
on that which blinded him - just like his clutch of which only he remained.
His mentor, the Gifted of K'sra, stood behind Sz'revan in the middle of the
path. Worry overtook him and a loud sigh escaped his mouth that conveyed
wordlessly his disappointment and pain. In the eyes of the Gifted, Sz'revan
was meant for more but had become troubled with knowledge not meant for
Sz'revan swiped at a core support beam in the roof of his hovel that caused
it to crumble immediately. As the sound echoed through the village and the
smoke and debris billowed out around him, he took a deep breath to remember
this moment. With his heightened scent memory this would last with him
"You built our cage," Sz'revan hissed with heavy disdain.
Sz'revan had overheard the truth that the marshes maze-like nature that had
"protected" the slith in the Old Marsh for generations had been magical
(Sra) in nature. The rest of his clutch was dead, toys for young magi to
practice upon and to deal with the tainted witches further within.
"You don't have to leave..." The Gifted repeated. He was never one for a
lot of words - so much could be said with so few.
Turning to face his mentor, Sz'revan bared his teeth in a sign of
aggression. As he stepped forward, after a momentary emotionless stare he
pivoted to the side so he would pass by the Gifted as he left and became
Sra'tak (forsaken of Sra). He hissed loudly these last brief words to his
past behind him:
"...I leave sso Sra livesss."
Mottled dark-grey scales tinge with faint hues of silver as they ripple
along the sturdy frame of this bipedal reptilian creature. Several small
jagged protrusions, reminiscent of a diadem jut from his serpent-like skull,
yet they do not look to be useful for anything other than perhaps
differentiating his status from the rest of his kind. Enormous
chartreuse-yellow eyes strain against the confines of his skull, the ridged
protrusions of his sockets disproportionately large relative to his scalp.
A thin toothy snout terminating at a dull point nearly six inches from the
brow, as the overall length of his head spans nearly a foot in length. Just
above the mouth two narrow openings appear to serve as nostrils, though he
seems to primarily breathe through his mouth which lazily hangs agape
periodically, revealing a row of terrifyingly grooved ivory teeth joined by
a pristine pair of larger fangs that have clearly been cared for. Notched
small sail-fins run from the back of his cranium all the way down to his
spine, bony colorless protrusions shaven to prevent further growth that only
arise to finger-length along his slithering tail. His stature is somewhat
dwarfed by the natural inclination of his limbs to bow at the joints, as if
he is indefinitely burdened by an immensely heavy, albeit invisible, load of
short pants still soaked from the muddy rivers cradled within his taut
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