NameZiusudra
Nickname(s)Zius
RaceDragon
ClassN/A
ProfessionLoner
BirthplaceNorderhalt
Age276
GenderAgender (he/him/his)
Sexual Orientationhomosexual
Audsalir ∀50
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Sinuous and beguiling. Zius glitters as the night sky overhead, for they & the night are one and the same. As dusk bleeds into the tender embrace of lady night's design, so does his body bleed effortlessly into transitional shades of deep purples, lilacs and powder blues. Speckles minutely by spots that resemble stars, and shimmer in their image.

Most of his scales running the winding length of his body follow a smooth texture, not unlike a serpents to the touch. Soft and supple, but extremely durable. Save for those found upon his back, chest, neck & head. They are plated in design, sturdy and elegantly shaped, arrow heads shaped in celestial splendor.

Paired with this royal regalia is a striking set of markings not unlike those found upon butterflies. Ink dark and applied with the upmost precision, wielded by unseen masters. Lining their wings in a resplendant display, and carefully applied to the many frilled hood upon his neck.

One would think his appearance would be hard pressed to become grander, and yet it does. For his crown of horns is impressive and grand. Three pairs of horns sprout elegantly from a shapely head, almost insectoid in shape. They lowest pair curved outward from the curve of his lower jaw and flow forward, framing his sharp face.

Three eyes peer out critically, the third resting squarely in the center of his forehead, luminious and faceted.  
 
Proud to the point of Belligerent Supremecy, counters this by being Charismatic and Soft Spoken but hardly a push over, chooses their words and delivery carefully. Absolutely uses it to assert dominance in a situation. Imposing with a penchant for Unnerving the weak willed. Conniving and Ruthless to the marrow of his bones, considers everything before acting. Insatiable and Rarely Satisfied, hungers to take everything apart and know it's secrets. Apathetic to nearly everyone he meets beyond face value, only in it for himself. Theatrical and Adaptable, he really cannot help himself


For many, Zius is a larger than life character, a legend made flesh & sinew. Ablaze in the Colors of the heavens greatest tapestries. Cultivating an image of a Dragon whose love of the Unknown is rivalled by his hatred of many. A magnet for the best and brightest of their kind, or those that wish to dwell beneath the all consuming aura of his mighty wings. For others not of their kind, his name strikes fear and a hunters exhileration. For he is the bane of many, a shade who comes alive at twilights heights. Death in the form of oblivions starscape.

Zius has long learned how to tell honesty from duplicity, read the greater picture, and how to bend the truth to make it more pleasing and when to shatter reality. He lends his voice carefully to causes he deems worthy, only after perusing the playing field, the cards played and considering the potential ones in hand, and often speaks with a quiet, but impassioned tone. Devoted to himself and his kind first and foremost, Ziusudra is very much a Dragon of 'if I cannot move the mountain, then I will carve a way through it.'

His passion burns bright, but it can also burn dark. Zius is never one to move to true anger quick, preferring to brush off slights with a well aimed barb in return or simply ignoring the attempt, much to the sources irritation and anger. Yet, when incited, he is never one to leave something half-finished. He handles disputes like the Dragons of legends wielded their great and terrible powers, for he too is of them. Quick, decisive and ruthless. Teeth to throat and all that surrounds. Seldom can he be moved to forgive, the times sparing and few in memory, but he has a rather long memory and he's not likely to forget the slight. 
Zius himself does not articulate upon his history, he would sooner have you believe he has always been ⁠— opposed to the knowledge that milennia is their existence. They are not as infinite as the stars, but it is an illusion the wyvern works so tirelessly to weave.

One of two surviving hatchling from a brood of five, born from Beleth & her mate, Caim. Wyverns who had roamed the great expanse of Drekhjarta before returning to the far northern reaches to the lairs of their own birth, in order to bring the next generation into existence. Already an odd pair, by the nature of being mated, their five year long diligence towards the eggs they carefully tended to would ultimately end in more loss than accomplishment.

Caim was slain three years into the incubation of their clutch, the decimation of their lair costing them three of their eggs as Beleth made her escape with the remaining two, tucked within the confines of her maw. The remaining two years were spent huddled within the northern most tip of the dragons head. Zius & Garuda hatched within those crystalline walls of Beleth's new lair. Their first years shaped by the stories Beleth told, filling the silence of the howling winds and frigid frost.

Zius' existence thus was raised upon the knowledge that fae & humanity are a blight. They take without thought to the consequence, and balk when consequence deals the fitting punishment to the crime. Most of all, he learned to hate them for their tasteless coveting of blood. First, for the rage and sorrow they had bequeathed to their mother in the absence of their sire. Then it became first hand experience, once he and his sibling were grown enough to leave.

Norderhalt could only contain the growing leviathan & his ever insatiable curiosity. Soon the air became his domain, and as he looked down upon the specks of land beneath his coiling frame, so too did those who would covet him turn their gaze skyward.

Soon Zius would come to know the greed of Fae & Humans alike as he might the secrets he worked so hard to obtain. For magic and glory, they would spit, sometimes cry when he levelled his tri-faceted gaze upon them in cold manevolence. If they had wanted their glory to be swift and meaningful, they would find no easy conquest in Zius. Their blood would not be their magic, neither their skull to mount upon some trophy stand. They came to learn that while his breath was cold, crystalline and unyielding. It compared little to the rage which burned within when moved to .

Others, they would come to know other aspects of him. The unsmiling delight of being tantalizingly out of reach, free and wild. The invasive voice within their heads, who laughed and goaded. Who questioned their intent. Were they so eager for death? Their stories cut so short? He cared not for their answers, only for their instinctive reaction. Did they clench their weapons tighter? Did they yell? Did they dare to answer him back, knowing that he may damn them to oblivion?

Decades rolled to centuries, and yet Zius remains. Changeable as the tides and just as constant. The tales of him are both true and exaggerated, he is sure, in those blighted nests humans and faes call cities. Unshakeable and Legendary. 
 
 
 
passive magic; the area surrounding Zius frosts over filament fine as icing sugar is, creeping across flora with single-minded focus. A winter wonderland in the making. In cases where Zius remains in an area for an extended period of time, crystals will begin to develop, twinkling the color of lavender amethysts. Permanent reminders of the blessed nature of his presence.

Zius himself is cooler to the touch, not enough to induce frostbite should one be lucky to touch him. But cold enough to be considered shocking upon first contact.