Looshiana » Lair » Khelgaro

Khelgaro

(#39343591)

Alt veit eg Odin Kvar du auge loynde

Familiar

Spring Glade Lord

Energy: 47/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

25.05 m

Wingspan

16.03 m

Weight

8965.49 kg

Genetics

Goldenrod
Petals

Goldenrod
Butterfly

Aqua
Glimmer

Hatchday

Feb 08, 2018
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Light
Common

Level 25 Imperial

Max Level

STR

136

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

KHELGARO

Very few could thrive in the north. Dragons who did where hard and had the harshness of the elements on them, almost as if the very cold was part of them. It took a long time for the region to find any sort of settlement but once it did, it quickly grew to become the second largest becoming know as Great House Caradhras, losing in power only to House Ivar in the midlands.

Northern dragons were used to sail and going far, conquering places and treasure on their raids which would be brought back to the mainland. As the area found itself growing, the raids stopped, and the leaders of House Caradhras found themselves unwilling to carry on with their pillage and sailings. Such calmness and stillness wasn't part of Khelgaro's nature. The imperial still wanted to expand, claim new territories, and fulfill the dreams and visions he had. The whispers often sounded like voices, other times as crows and even as thunder, but they spoke of the same: a growing organized kingdom.

Against the leader of the north, House Caradhras, Khelgaro set sail with a few soldiers and allies. Travel by land was not an option, rumors brought news of wars and battles happening in the Midlands.

The journey south came with many losses, which Khelgaro refuses to forget, as his allies perished not in battle as they would have wanted, but to the cruelty of the sea; their lunds filled with water, succumbing to a watery grave at the bottom of the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

Victory however, was drawing near as they reached the unstable south. Rumours had it that the leaders of House Ivar had been killed and they had a new Queen now. Khelgaro knew him and his dragons had all in them to lay siege to the south and conquer it on their names before claiming the north by land, but he also knew the price would be too high.

After a few battles, diplomacy found a way. Initial talks became long talks and soon Khelgaro made an alliance with the new Queen of the midlands, a wildclaw named Nozette.

From this alliance came the partnership that would stablish the Besart Empire. It wasn't easy for the two in the beginning, but Khelgaro and Nozette soon realized they could have more together than they could dream of having alone.

It took years of conquest around the midlands before Khelgaro and Nozette set their eyes on the northern lands of House Caradhras. They ventured north from their new funded capitol as they laid siege and waste on their way of conquering the north on their name. After years of sweat, battles, blood and sacrifices, the empire finally stood ground, north to south, west to east, united under a single banner. He was King and she was the Queen at his side.

Road and Roar

From birth he was seen as wild and hard to deal with. He had his own code of morals and values, and to him, a warrior’s honour and the fierceness of fair battles was worth more than petty disputes and empty titles. To the weaker he offered protection, diplomacy, support. To the strong, he sought a challenge. His eyes were always on those higher up. He knew he could have more, if he challenged those stronger than him, or above him in the ranks of House Caradhras.

He was brutal but honourable, traits often seen as the true essence of the North. Khelgaro always knew his limits and was never shy of giving responsibilities to those around him capable enough to earn his confidence. His comrades trusted him for he trusted them. Together they were unstoppable.

His daring strength and confident army saw him quickly rise in ranks among Caradhras Army. He rose in ranks and reputation. Songs started singing tales of his strength in war and of his fair nature.

And that alone started threatening House Caradhras as he grew older and as the North saw its former warrior glory slowly fade away under the still calmness and complacent nature of its leaders. As Khelgaro started being seen as the one who would drive them back to their former battle glory, The Leader of the North decided to find this Infamous Commander and strike him down before tales of his noble strength and fierce skills turned him into a figure of legend, a contestant for the crown of the North.

By the time whispers talked about making off with the aspiring new leader, Khelgaro’s own advisers had told him to leave.

He would not desert the North; he wasn’t born to be a coward.

He knew it was time to make his own army. His own conquest. His own house. He knew from his visions that his journey was meant to take him elsewhere and return one day, to make do with the complacent leadership of House Caradhras and with his land.

He could not desert the North; but perhaps to conquer North, he had to venture South.

He stepped onto boat on a bright afternoon, and the people of the North watched as he proudly sailed away from his homeland, not in the darkness of the night like traitors and deserters do, but under the last rays of autumn sun, before winter settled in; to the last minute, he was a proud and true warrior of the North.

The northern Leaders saw its rising enemy depart, and tried its best to paint him as a deserter who had forsaken the north; but its voice was muted, silenced under the songs. It tried as it could to censor the whispers, the tales, the musings, but they still found its way back, in rumours and songs: the promise of light returning once more.

The people of the North saw Khelgaro as the noble and fair sun, that would rise once more in glory for their land. In his warmth, they would not be idle like the ice of House Caradhras; in his warmth, they would be warriors again

Written by my dear friend, Mudy

"Against the leader of the north,
House Caradhras, Khelgaro set sail
with a few soldiers and allies.
Travel by land was not an option, rumors
brought news of wars and battles
happening in the Midlands"

About:

King of the Besart empire. Ended became king in an agreement with Nozette when they realized it would be the best.

Khelgaro is also odd in some way, cause he's blessed by Gods and Goddesses, so Nozette sees him like an equal. Strange and odd as she is too.

He looks a bit like crazy cause he often says that he talks to the All father. He has some divination power too and is one step ahead when possible. Sometimes he speaks alone and he also speaks an odd language when dreaming. He looks like the crazy dragon on the town, and the other avoid getting too close to him.

Due to his fame, he nas not mnay friends, nor is too much welcoming in big celebrations. Dragons and the last leader of the north would use Khel in their advantage, but when is time to celebrate and be together as a clan, they would not enjoy his presence.

Eventually he and Nozette become a real pair, and not only business.

What about the north?

Battle on the hill

“Everything you did brought you to where you are now, home.”

The voices and dreams confirmed his journey.

xxx— Idiots! Pigs! How dare you leave without me! I.. I hate all of you, but you the most, Ebrilla! — Oseild's punch hit the tundra hard on his face. She shed angry tears — And you! You came back spreading fire and rage! I am one of the first shieldmaidens, yet you disappoint me by leaving me behind. Oh Gods! for long I thought you were dead and I wept nights and nights!

xxx— Oseild, enough…

Another punch. She laid a kiss on her favourite tundra, then another punch. She felt like breaking her shield on Ebrilla's head. That was her way of showing affection.

xxx— We need your help, Oseild.

***

The shieldwall between him and his conquest was a thick layer, followed by another layer of brave warriors, archers, spearmen and others; after all this, him, the leader of the north whodenied his dreams and goals. A strong ridgeback, saving his energies. Older than him.

One army under the single banner of both Nozettte and Khelgaro marched and slaughtered what stood on their way. The hill was vast in front of the mountain base, and a few kilometres up was the leader's home with the hall. He was surrounded. Khelgaro with his friends made their way to the top. Ebrilla and Oseild by his side. Toresius was just a little behind the trio. Cordelia, Isildur and others on second command. Normund with his enchanted ways of fighting terrifying the poor dragons on the battlefield.

Fighting on the hill, Vanhild, Nozette's best friend and favorite warrior as the second platoon's commander, together with Jolfriga and Nozette too The Wildclaw was slamming the sound of thunder on her enemies, trying once and for all to unite the land and bring Besart to life.
The last battle in this crazy dream. Just one more death, one more soldier, one more leader on the ground and it was soon to have an ending. Nozette was thunder blessed, but she was also mortal.

The north was the second largest force in the country. Great House Caradhras as it was know, just losing to the place where she came from, the clan she destroyed and usurped in her name. Surely Caradhras wasn’t going to be a weak opponent, but Nozette and Khelgaro had Yngverld and Vitserk, two thirds of the whole country. It had to be now, if not now then it would never happen. She didn’t rest. He didn't rest. The imperial that entered her life was fighting a battle uphill and she was fighting on the plain ground.

xxx— Don't let them go to the mountain! Keep them here! Destroy the cavalry and the left platoon!

Enemies were going out of the battle circle to reinforce the ones fighting in the mountain’s base. Their horses ran through, breaking the Queen's wall of soldiers.

Rage filled her. She rose her sword to the sky and then let it meet the ground, bringing the thunder from the All Father's domain to her feet and killing her enemies. Half of the cavalry was dead, the other half still had to face the imperial.

xxx— Jol!!! — The cobalt winged skydancer screamed covered in blood — Take the east part of the platoon and stop them! We need to keep these off!

They were afraid of what they were seeing. Even the queen’s allies were a bit afraid. Thunder was like a part of her and it was a cold thunder. Jolfriga did hesitated for a second or two, but followed the orders. The toll was becoming too steep.

***

xxx— Drop your weapons, men! — Oseild screamed.

The last thick wall of shields was alive in battle breath before the three of them. Ebrilla had his helmet cracked and a hole on his wing. Khelgaro had part of his beautiful shield broken, his tail was in improvised bandages and he had cuts on both his skin and face. Blood dripped from his armor, tracing the lines of the petals genetic on his goldenrod hide until they were as dark as the scars and bruises he earned on his conquest and no one could tell his genes and scars apart.

Oseild gave the order, but none followed. Some seemed pained in their defiance, but not all. She made the doubt and hate grow among the soldiers before them. How did they dare to do this? Turn against the Great House Caradhras in the last moment. How did she joined the crazy imperial who left the north against the leader’s order with some soldiers and ships? She had no more right here. They came forward with weapons in hands in response.

They still liked them, friends from old battles and conquests; dragons with whom they grew up with and others they met and lived with in the north. Dragons who drank and celebrated with Ebrilla, Oseild, Khelgaro and others. Alas, to Khelgaro these were dragons who defied his dreams, and mocked his beliefs. A part of his heart was torn against that brutality, while the other raged against them. It had to be done.

The northern terrain made battle difficult for those who were going against it, but the imperial and his friends were familiar with it. Oseild knew the army plans, the crevices and slopes they fought on like the palm of her hands. Instead of being pushed to the sides and suffer a fall from the heights, they centered their battle. They had a hard time breaking the batallion's formation, expanding the fight from the center of itself; but they did it. Many died, others were knocked out of fight, gave up or surrendered, but the imperial had no rest.

As Toresius arrived with more help, Khelgaro had his path clear to the hall. It was just a matter of time now. With Ebrilla and Oseild at his side, he made his way to the top. The last few soldiers met their death by their weapons while they climbed the last trail.

They stood in front of the doors of the hall and glass shattered above. A plague dragon landed near them, clumsy almost crashing in the ground. Oseild’s eyes grew in fright. The dragon ran.

xxx— Go! — she ran leaving them. The plague dragon was too fast. — Grey one please help them! — she spoke rushing by Toresius and taking flight, in pursuit of the plague dragon.

Khelgaro had no rest. Arrows flied in their direction as soon as they entered the place. The Ridgeback leader had a crooked crown on his head and commanded his archers to shoot merciless.
It was a tight battle; the hall was in dishevel in order to hold the artillery inside. What had been a place for glory and celebrations was now in a messy chaos: chairs and tables turned around, broken and tossed aside; the curtains torn apart; the fire that once warmed the citizens laid extinguished in cold embers. Nothing in that room reminded Khelgaro of the celebrations he attended after raids and wars.

xxx— They are not better than me, my lordship! — Toresius said calmly as his usual, but sure of his own skills, behind the protection they found. Ebrilla had already taken an arrow on his shoulder. Khelgaro took it off, focusing once more on the battle before him. He scoffed when his best friend bled and cursed him

xxx— Make every arrow count — he said with eyes starting to glow.

While the quiet Toresius shot with the best of his skill, Khelgaro and Ebrilla went ahead risking their lives. Some of the archers by left side died with Ebrilla’s counter attack. That battle was over for the tundra; he slashed their throats before falling with more arrows on his legs and holes on his wings.
Khelgaro lost his shield by throwing it on the last archer on the right side of the room, killing him in the next move. With only his sword left, he charged at the Ridgeback in the background.

The frigid slash welcomed him, freezing his skin and left side of the face. The Ridgeback came forward, unleashing his rage while his magic recharged for use again.

It was an intense fight, the goldenrod one made his best dodges when the ridgeback tried to hit him. Though an old dragon, the ridgeback had more energy than the tired Khelgaro, already tired from his battle uphill and from invading the north.

His flesh was cut many times without a proper shield to defend himself. His face still hurt from the frigid slash. The Sword dropped off his hand and he fell on his side as the Ridgedback hit him again.

xxx— You have already lost!

The ridgeback's broadsword met the imperial and he tried to hold it back with his bare hands. The blood came oozing when the blade started to cut him. The ridgeback was putting all of his weight against him, desiring to end that problematic and insane Imperial’s life, once and for all.

So he shone. Brightbolt, a blessing from All Light’s mother. Blinded by that pure light, the ridgeback had a moment of fright and Khelgaro’s teeth found his enemy neck as his enemy last frigid bolt found Khelgaro’s eye. The old leader was in his final moments, blood left his body as Khelgaro clenched his jaw through his own pain in the ground. His right eye was lost on the same day House Caradhras was defeated.

As the ridgeback's body laid dead, Khelgaro pushed it away, finding streght in knowing fulfillment was finally within his grasp.

xxx— Q...quick! — He spoke the best way he could.

Toresius helped Ebrilla, and after that he took the Great House Caradhras banner down and sounded the horn, signaling the leader's defeat, the army should now stop and lay weapons. The hill bellow had smoke from the battle and was a total chaos. Part of the soldiers listening to the sound of the horn laid their weapons and gave up on that mad fight, others still had their weapons in hand.
Flying from above and then through the middle of the army, the plague dragon came and craved a needle like sword on Nozette’s body midflight. For just a few centimeters it could have been her heart. The blade piercing the ice thundering Wildclaw was hot and she screamed in pain. On her fall she took that dragon's life before crashing on the ground. Khelgaro was on the ground recovering, in pain, bruised, one wing broken and with his hand protecting the bleeding lost eye. But his listening was not lost, it was a sense still working on that tired body, and he listened to it, listened to the thunder waning.

***

Toresius took him and Ebrilla to the hill. When Khelgaro reached Nozette, his body found strength he didn't know where from to take her in his arms and to the camping tent. Her valuable friends helped taking the rest of her armor off while she was in pain and delirium. Her power electrified the air in the tent. She spoke nonsense and other stuff until she finally collapsed to the pain.

xxx—DO YOUR THING! — Khelgaro grabbed Vladimir by the hoodie and pointed his sword at the guardian — Get your stuff working! If she dies you’re taking the blame!

xxx— Enough! — Ebrilla pushed the imperial against a chair. The tundra was still there, one of his anchors. He had a bottle on his other hand and was drinking it — you need help too.

xxx— Amarantes is on the other side! — Cirilla the healer entered the tent putting her bag of medicines and bottles on the bed Nozette was — Vladimir drain this now! brilla pushed the imperial against a chair. The tundra was still there, one of his anchors. He had a bottle on his other hand and was drinking it — You need help too.

Khelgaro stood up.

xxx— Get your *** back in that chair! — Ebrilla poured the bottle's content on the imperial face. He screamed in pain with the alcoholic liquid in his wounds.

xxx— Stop this mess, Ebri! — Oseild took the bottle from the tundra and quickly was between the two before that turned into a punch championship.

xxx— OFF HALF OF YOU! — Cirilla ordered — There’s too much to be done.

***

She was loved by her people. She had always put an effort to make the life of everyone in the clan comfortable. She had almost no good night of sleep since the wheel begun to spin, since she made it start to spin. Conquest was her desire. Those who followed her trusted her. They saw how the place became something better, little by little. Wrongs were done right and the whole country was being unified.
From her first great victory on Vitserk, her second great victory on Yngveldr and now from the conquest of the north. Sigvard. Conquest was her desire and she had been so close to it. How could that slip from her claws on the last moments? Could she blame him for it? Blame the many "what about the north" he said to her almost daily?

Unlike her, he was not well regarded by the people of the north. A crazy Imperial dragon, hearing unknown voices, following strange dreams hat he claimed to be sent by the Gods. Often shut from social moments due to his personality and history, only being welcomed when things went right because of him.
A fake celebration was wrong to his eyes, and many of those felt fake to him.
He went against his own homeland, so he could come back vicotrious and thrive on it. It was a plan only about him, he would do it hilmself, but nay, the wildclaw crossed his path and now the thought of conquest alone, without her was now something bitter.

xxx— If... — her throat was dry — If you tell me that the Ridgeback is alive…

He never left the side of her bed.

xxx— Nozi!

xxx— I’m glad I found someone as crazy as me to do this whole thing, but don’t call me Nozi.

Ich finde, wir beide passen perfekt zusammen

Written by me, edited by Mudy with her amazing english skills

A single drop of snow-melt at the core
ice still thick around it: this couldn’t
be weakness -- could it?

Each dragon lost to the pleasure of battle
rode their strength of glory high into the sky
Yet each soul lost to the swallowing waves--

they find the path
through so small a crack,
so well protected,
turn one drop into two
two drops into three,
widen the path

he would have called it a flaw, once
such a crack in his defences,
this small globe of molten liquid in his chest
he calls it now the opening

to summer’s warmth, to partnership
wealth and passion claimed equally
to a rule hard - of course - but fair and
occasionally tempered by that
which would have been anathema in his youth

By Tarshaan #212290

By AkinlySoleil

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