Ariana Ddraig's page

For Ariana Khail, nothing was more important than magic. Neither of her parents fostered their gifts; her father was a hedge wizard who sold small magical trinkets and offered spellcasting services, while her mother always concerned herself more with theory and scholarly pursuits than her own abilities. Their daughter, however, not only showed magical affinity from an early age, but ambition and intellectual curiosity. She wanted to learn everything she could, oftentimes not even about magic. Any knowledge she could get her hands on, she consumed. It wasn't a problem, until she dug a bit too deep into years-untouched books belonging to her father, at which point she came across a book detailing various prayers and rites for the worship of Asmodeus. It was fortunate she went to her father in concern, and not to anyone else with the information. Her parents were both worshippers of Asmodeus, going back many generations on both sides. Their practice became hidden as Talingarde became a much more fanatically Mitran kingdom, eventually not even continuing their worship in practice when she was born, out of the fear they would be discovered and their newborn put to death. In the two decades since, their faith had waned heavily, and neither really held any passion or devotion left for the Dark Prince, and forbade their daughter from ever following in their footsteps or asking questions.

He also warned her about her heritage; there was a reason her father never developped his magic very far, and it was for fear of his lineage. Their family line held some kind of draconic affair many generations prior, and those who fully embraced magic found themselves at risk of coming upon it. Her great grandfather became a hermit after he pushed himself to the degree where his flesh began to turn to scales. He told her to slow down her rapid pace of discovery and experimentation, lest it draw eyes and fear.

She couldn't not heed their warnings for even a week. She tried as subtly as she could to find information about Asmodeus, all of it Mitran propaganda, distorting and lying about the things she had read in her father's book. If the Mitrans were supressing the worship of other gods, they may have also been hiding away other things. Knowledge that was a threat or affront to them. Magic, perhaps. She'd already come into her gifts by then, working tirelessly to hone her magic in hopes of finding a tutor who could help her exceed what her parents had accomplished, and the thought of knowledge and magic that the Mitrans kept hidden slowly became an obssession for her.

But nobody would teach her if she began to sprout scales. She'd already begun to grow claws for short periods every day, and she knew it would only worsen from there. No reputable mage would indulge her curiosities. So instead she turned to devils. Lowly devils, who couldn't sate her thirst for knowledge, but she was still a fledging mage, and feared what would happen if she tried to summon something beyond her abilities.

Leaving home, both because of the restrictions of her parents on the advancement of her craft and fear for the consequences of a open devil worshipper growing scales upon her family, she continued to chase knowledge. In secret, she had taken with her the book about Asmodeus, keeping it private as she worshipped and continued along her path. She took on the assumed surname Ddraig, both as embrace of her heritage, and to ensure her family cold not be held responsible for her actions. Like her father, she offered spells for coin, but at night, she sought the means by which to begin undoing the Mitran control of Talingarde. Looking for evidence of others who still revered Asmodeus, or even just revolutionaries whose cause she could feign support for if it meant furthering her own goals. Petty criminals mostly, but she would have to make do with what she had.

But as she grew stronger, she realized that her draconic heritage wasn't what she'd expected. Rather than bearing proud scales of a fearsome chromatic dragon, her physical transformation brought silver. It was a delicious irony to her, a legacy of Asmodean worship bearing the blood of the noble metallic dragons, and she longed for the day she could lord such righteous heritage over her victims. Eventually, her prayers were answered, and the studious mage found herself bearing the beginnings of profane power. Hoping that abilities bestowed upon her by the Prince of Darkness himself was a sign, she prepared a ritual to invoke a devil, bind it to her will, and seek guidance and secrets from it.

Not a major devil. Merely an imp. A harmless little creature who surely a sorceress of her abilities could control. To aid in her tempting of the evil creature, she sought a few 'ingredients', hearts from animals and pints of blood to woo it into her service and string it along for as long as she could. In the seedy corner of the city she'd found herself in, the seller was a vampire, keeping a low profile and feeding off of living creatures, selling their parts and carcasses for meagre profits. While it may have disturbed or brought discomfort to some, Ariana saw only opportunity in the turn of events, gladly offering spellcasting and a pile of gold to the vampire in exchange for being turned into one herself. She could think only of the opportunities that becoming a vampire could present, the further shedding of mortality's limits and opening of new doors of knowledge. Not to mention, becoming something vile, bringing her closer to Asmodeus where her heritage pulled her away. She insisted and forced, eventually threatening the vampire with his claws, until he relented and bit her. Only to run away in a panic within seconds, leaving her with a slow-setting form of undeath that would creep slowly through her in an agonizing, slow conversion, rather than claiming her right there.

She was furious, but could do little to follow him or make a scene, especially when she had a ritual to perform. She gathered up the other materials and settled down into the room of the dingy inn she'd been staying at, spreading out everything she needed and beginning. But it didn't work as intended, and somehow, she was compromised. Perhaps she had been too overt about the ritual items when she procured them. Whatever it was, it led Sir Balin to her, and though she had grown fearsome with her claws, she stood no chance against the witch hunter. She was taken prisoner and carried off to Branderscar, screaming oaths of revenge. She never gave her real family name to them, and in her failure she could at least rest safe in her family's secret being one she would
take to an unmarked grave.

Ariana is prideful to a fault. Haughty and self-absorbed, believing herself superior in all manners. Once the Mitrans have been overthrown, she intends to lead the kingdom's magical development and education, pushing the boundaries further, and sees herself as the template by which others should follow, both in her great potential and in her lust for knowledge above all else. She believes herself the pinnacle of intellectual pursuit and, once she comes into her powers, the greatest mage of her generation; if she fights for it, why is such a seat not rightfully hers?

With that pride comes arrogance. She does not suffer fools, very loose with her sharp tongue, and though she tries to present a cool demeanour it can fall apart very quickly as a passionate fire lies beneath the icy surface, and it takes little to flare it up. Her conflicting natures certainly do not help, her draconic instincts becoming greater and at odds with her own, while her grown undeath complicates matters further, leaving her torn and a little inconsistent, prone to mood swings. Prone to outbursts and offense as she is, she is no coward, and will back whatever she says in a rage up to the fullest extent she can.

She cares deeply for her family and her faith, very devout in her worship of Asmodeus and much more amicable to those who share her experiences and the worship of evil gods. So much of her life has been spent in opposition and hiding her truths that her biting wit has grown to be the standard to keep people away, both protecting her secret and venting her fury at a society that would loathe her if it knew. Those sympathetic to her cause and her faith would find not the cruel descendant of a dragon, but a fierce ally and loyal friend, devoted to the undoing of Talingarde's self-righteousness and to keeping those she can truly call 'her people' closer than she's let most people before.