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The Faeltar and her Fizlen

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Commissioned from :iconnatysart: who does such wonderful work.
Coloured... eventually, by me :iconreikovalour:, myself :iconreikovalour: and I :iconreikovalour:. The characters, designs and writing bit are also mine.

Pretty important this image, displaying the typical outfits and designs of Reiko and Maleti in the Adventure setting, an as yet untitled project that has been in development and continuing to be so for some time. Maleti in her pretty much finalized design as a Faeltar, a mongrel mix of lizard traits, those spots will be hell for an artist but just work so well.


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"It is the most oft-asked question posed to me. What sort of man is my Lord... and quickly following behind, what sort of woman is my Lady. To sum up such people that hold, perhaps greater importance than any other figure of mundane tales... I speak of course in comparison to divine. My Lord and indeed all of us involved strode to great heights but not quite to those of the varied gods the world holds belief in. It taxes my talents as the chronicler, the story-teller of our varied deeds, true when this first began the title was entirely self-imposed but at this point I... I am rambling a tad am I?... Apologies let me focus on the topic."

The Story-teller took more than just a breath to recollect his thoughts, shining black talon tapped at the rim of his tankard, nigh invisible score being made upon the metal as a result. Eyes closed... how best to compress so much experience, even just the asked for segments and give his version of accuracy... all that he admits to offering as a bard. Philosphers can have the truth. "Ah of course, certainly best to start at the beginning, my Lord is one of sincerity and honesty so I never had call to question what he told me of his youth, though certainly envied in a way..."


It was the grass-lands of Visha, home to the Brin tribe of Fizlen Draconis that was Reikos home and care. Family already large and prosperous, he was born the youngest to a brother and two sisters, further siblings would arrive after but in Fizlen tradition it cemented his name. Families have favoured children, parents finding it hard to attach so much emotion time and again, but despite being the fourth child there was no absence of parental attention, indeed as a Fizlen such a thing was easily supplanted by uncles and aunts. The Fizlens lack much of their historic knowledge, many traditions and even old natives dialects were long lost in the grand migration that littered the warm-scaled folk across much of the world. Named Reiko in honour of a long passed ancestor, Brin-sa for tribe and place in family, then the surname Valour.

A greatly aspirational surname the family had, though none really lived up to it, they were almost entirely craftsmen and artisans, an aberration being in Hiroshi, Reikos father who ran a modest trading company. From this the early life of my Lord stood apart, he was boistrous, energetic. Already a leader though of bawdy youth that would worry cattle, sneak into store-houses and as the years drew on, a leader that learned the value of withdrawls... from many furious fathers. Maidens and pranks did not hold his passion entirely though, nor upon becoming a man did my Lord find it easy to choose a tattoo now able.

With marked scales and wanderlust taking full hold he left the comfort of the Visha grasslands. Naught in his clutches but a set of steel bracers padded with leather and wool. That this was the poor beginnings for a warrior is obvious but my Lord was not intending to lay a path of corpses behind him, no it was for life and variety, to see what could be seen. Broken blade plucked from a long ended battle was more than enough in his mind to dissuade problems. That a tawdry piece of damaged metal was a chosen weapon of my Lord showed how he saw the world, vision beyond those of you who step past such historied fragments to focus upon that which shines and beacons. He instead saw what was usable and available, the jobs to which it could be applied.

My Lord is not one who believes in fate, that the reigns of our life are held by those unknowable beings that were are so tempted to attribute our misfortunes to. But there is something to be said for luck, for among his first stepped destinations he came upon the most suitable figure to refine what my Lord was searching for in life, the Loke Knight Balthaas, a reknowned and experienced warrior, one who was so respected and trusted he clashed blades with the King of their people numerous times in friendly competition. Despite having his own noble duties Balthaas saw something in my Lord, no doubt different from the presence I beheld, but we all see something in my Lord. Hmhm, of course none so much as the green scaled vision that walks closest at his side.

It was my Lord himself that discovered Maleti, her completely an unknown for the rest of us, only he set foot in their village and brought with him such an immaculate beauty. She had attempted to escape from her people, to give herself the fullest freedom the wilds could offer when all her people had were the shackles of arranged marriage and swelling the bloodline. Her escape interrupted by catching sight of a camp-fire warming at the jagged shadows of the underscrub she was forced to crawl through to remain hidden.

While my living is made as a teller of tales, I do find it difficult to improve or find any worthwhile embellishment to be made upon that first meeting, perhaps if you have the fortune of meeting my Lord or his Lady in future you can partake of that moment. For now I shall jump ahead... for while the first meeting was vital, so many qualities presented themselves as part of Maleti, foremost was that mind. She spoke only a partial dialect of her own people, the greater variety of words not allowed by the females, yet with just listening to my Lord and those around her, she developed a healthy grasp of Bracian. Further weeks of travel and books bought just to feed her curiousity resulted in such quickly grasped fluency, indeed it was Maleti who taught our tribal compatriots the Bracian language so that communication would be far simpler.

The natural genius did not end there, at first a creature of peace Maleti decided she must get involved in the jobs that kept her and my Lord sustained, along with finally having the freedom to be entirely responsible for what she would do. The spear was first, a hunting tool applied to combat that kept her inexperience further from injury. But it was the sword that blended with her natural talents in a far superior way, balance... agility she was flawless in these respects, having grown up scaling and leaping from tree to tree, her people knowing that to fall at such youth would at best be an injury rendering one useless. The straight lines of architecture and other man-made surroundings being far easier prey to her claws and dextrous tail.

While it is the golden scaled Kin who dances to rythmn and beat, to see Maleti direct her blade is to see performance beyond martial combat. Such hard work making her better with a single blade than myself I must confess and I was a professional duellist of Helvin. Those are meagre tellings of origins but should perhaps give you all food for thought, as I finish this tankard I await the next query and coin to elaborate on these scant words.
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