SewSassy
Legend
Name: Azulon Atlantes
Nickname/Alias: Most cannot fathom his entire name, so he tolerates the nickname, "Azu".
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Race: Silverhand Elf {Successor To His Father, "Azerath"}
Height: Na
Weight: Na
Hair: Crystal-Blonde
Eyes: Turquoise
Skin: {Caucasian}
Identifying Marks: One of the most recognized markings, is the [R] on his Uniform, but other than that, it's his Crystal-Blonde hair that glistens, even in the night.
Appearance: An athletic body, but not bulky. Crystal-Blonde hair which perfectly compliments the Oceanic-Tone of his eyes.
Strengths: Magick, and running are his two most useful strengths.
Weaknesses and fears: Anything with fins, and he especially dislikes mermaids/mermen.
Religion and cults: Although worshipping Harateth, he is in a cult named, "Cult-R".
Profession: Stealing ocelots for "Cult-R", and spending a nice day off at Witch's Brew.
~~~~~
{Chapter 1: "Death. Capture."}
Prince Azulon awaited the news on his father's current state of health, whilst pacing back and forth in his bedroom. "I can't believe he was ambushed like that... it's just... not something that he would let hap-" *The Door Blasts Open, Revealing A Party, 5 Dwarves Strong* "What in the name of the nameless one is going on?!", Azulon barked, filled with mixed feelings of fear, and rage. *The Dwarves Ignored His Question, Grabbing Their Axes And Pelted The Walls With The Sharp Blades* "Agh!!" Azulon quickly jumped through the window, knowing there would be a fountain to catch his fall. The thought spinning in his mind, he knew his father was dead. captured. Soaking wet, he dried off what he could in the two second gateway between the dwarves realizing where he went and him escaping, uncaptured.
Run. Escape. Death. Capture. The words rung in his head like a bell in a silent village, as he sprinted with all the speed he could muster up into his legs.
*Boom! Crash!* Azulon tripped, falling into a black whirl of unconsciousness.
Run. Escape. Death. Capture.
Nickname/Alias: Most cannot fathom his entire name, so he tolerates the nickname, "Azu".
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Race: Silverhand Elf {Successor To His Father, "Azerath"}
Height: Na
Weight: Na
Hair: Crystal-Blonde
Eyes: Turquoise
Skin: {Caucasian}
Identifying Marks: One of the most recognized markings, is the [R] on his Uniform, but other than that, it's his Crystal-Blonde hair that glistens, even in the night.
Appearance: An athletic body, but not bulky. Crystal-Blonde hair which perfectly compliments the Oceanic-Tone of his eyes.
Strengths: Magick, and running are his two most useful strengths.
Weaknesses and fears: Anything with fins, and he especially dislikes mermaids/mermen.
Religion and cults: Although worshipping Harateth, he is in a cult named, "Cult-R".
Profession: Stealing ocelots for "Cult-R", and spending a nice day off at Witch's Brew.
~~~~~
{Chapter 1: "Death. Capture."}
Prince Azulon awaited the news on his father's current state of health, whilst pacing back and forth in his bedroom. "I can't believe he was ambushed like that... it's just... not something that he would let hap-" *The Door Blasts Open, Revealing A Party, 5 Dwarves Strong* "What in the name of the nameless one is going on?!", Azulon barked, filled with mixed feelings of fear, and rage. *The Dwarves Ignored His Question, Grabbing Their Axes And Pelted The Walls With The Sharp Blades* "Agh!!" Azulon quickly jumped through the window, knowing there would be a fountain to catch his fall. The thought spinning in his mind, he knew his father was dead. captured. Soaking wet, he dried off what he could in the two second gateway between the dwarves realizing where he went and him escaping, uncaptured.
Run. Escape. Death. Capture. The words rung in his head like a bell in a silent village, as he sprinted with all the speed he could muster up into his legs.
*Boom! Crash!* Azulon tripped, falling into a black whirl of unconsciousness.
Run. Escape. Death. Capture.
