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The land of Shamsir was finaly enjoying an age of peace after the scourge of Fireclaw and his armies were sent back into the swamps of the south lands. Thunderpaw, hero of the Battle of Two Forks, was again on his throne in Castle Ironheart ruling wisely over the his brave and loyal subjects. Trade with the neighboring kingdoms and other lands has begun to blossom, with many merchants lining their pockets with the bounty the venture had to offer. The old magics and religions were practiced in the open now that Fireclaw's zealots were no longer seeking to destroy all but the worship of the evil god Blackhorn. All appeared well but there were rumors of strangers in dark cloaks lurking around the cities. The goblin tribes in the east were leaving their burrows for an unknown destination. Whispers of Fireclaw's return were heard in the taverns and dark alleys.

Gaia Name: The Bottousai
Character Name: Villmort
Age: ?????
Race: Dragon
Profession: Rogue
History: A lone rogue who pleasures in stealing from the rich and powerful to keep the money for himself and increase the bounty on his head. Some times to fool people he lets himself get caught and then escapes at night.most of the day he just plays with the animals.
Appearance:Villmort
Personality: Caring and fun-loving

Down on his luck, Kæl found himself traversing the dusty eastern road in the company of a caravan of nobles. He had offered his services to one of the wealthy men, saying that he would act as a personal guard to them should any bandits arise. The haughty man scoffed at the "young pup" and, saying that he bore neither the reputation nor the proof that he could do an adequate job at being a personal guard, told him that he was not even worth the money. Well, Kæl desperately needed funds for his next meal, so after a great deal of humiliating pleading he finally was chosen by a certain aristocrat to haul her carriage. "It would beat paying the price for the horses," the snide woman had said, "and it would put that great burly body of yours to good use." He was virtually getting paid peanuts to do it.

"Huh! 'Wet-nose' indeed!" Kæl grumbled, hauling the front wooden bars with his upper arm and back strength. His muscles bulged and tensed under the strain. He was certain that the foxy female was certainly more heavy set than she had given way. She was probably only dressed in one set of robes, rather than the five she appeared to have worn. The dust shifted uneasily beneath Kæl's feet. Too much wear on the topsoil had made it especially difficult for hard plodding. "Not even a horse would do this..." he sighed.

There came a startled cry from the front carriage: "It's a bandit!" Instantly Kæl's ears perked. Several brawny, well-armed figures went racing up alongside the carriages for the front. He was about the follow the hired mercenaries when a chiding, foxy voice called from inside the carriage, "Don't you dare move from your place, carriage boy! I need that body of yours to haul this the rest of the way to Sere Town." Kæl's ears settled tightly back upon his head as he slumped against the lumber bars in agitation. He watched longingly as the last hired bodyguard sprinted past him. His tail swished anxiously. "Sixteen men," he wondered, "that should be enough to take care o' one bandit, right?"

Kæl bided his time until the sounds of the skirmish ahead became too much to bear. He glanced warily back and heard the faint sound of snoring echoing from within the carriage. Quietly he ducked beneath she bars, crawled out to the side of the narrow road, then rose to all fours and took off down the dirt incline. He rushed doggedly onwards until he came past the front of the head carriage, skidding directly to a halt as he simultaneously stood up on his hind quarters. His eyes widened a the sight be beheld: sixteen fully grown, armed men laying sprawled out on the ground like ants that had been deftly squashed by a foot. There, standing amidst it all, was a tall reptilian figure with eyes that glinted like blood rubies. The caravan was not dealing with no ordinary bandit.

"Are there any here who can give me a good fight?" boomed a voice over the roadway. Kæl knew that if there was going to be any chance to prove himself, it would be now. He leapt out in front of the carriage. "I can!"

Instantly Kæl drew his sword from its sheath where it had been holstered on his back and lunged at the great scaly man.

A cocky grin crept up Kæl's features: "Never underestimate me!" With that he whipped back the sword, dislodging is from the brigand's grip, and back-flipped onto the soil. His eyes glittered fiercely. The inexperienced youth was beginning to enjoy his newfound prowess in the heat of battle. He drew back his right arm almost the full length of the blade it was clutching. His left arm he held outstretched in front of him, braced in a prepared and balanced manner. "Let's go," he breathed, egging his combatant on.