Name: Dagon Curuslo
Appearance: Standing around 6'2" he's not the biggest guy in the world but he's far from weak, working hard as a blacksmith earned him quite a bit of meat on his bones, and on his place. Good meal for a dragon. He's pretty aged, being 37 and his face shows that, a bushy beard and somewhat longer than normal hair. The main thing about his face that's of real note though would be the large burn scar on his cheek from an accident at the forge
Vocation: Fighter
Skills: (none yet)

Name: Revon Theus
Appearance: Revon is a caucasian man with graying brown hair, standing at an around average height of precisely 6 feet. Despite his age, he - apart from his graying hair - looks younger than he actually is, however. Despite this, he very obviously does not have the vigor of someone in their twenties, as proven by the bored expression he almost constantly bears. The only times he does not wear this uncaring expression is during battle, or perhaps simply when he's hurting others.
Vocation: Strider
Skills: nothing lmao, niggas weak

"Gotsa bad feelin' bout this lad. What ere t'is, we needs ta see it." The mentor continued towards the beach, where the wind was coming from. But as he approached, he stopped. Everyone stopped. One man was running the opposite way, shouting manically.

The dragon was quite far away still. But its approach was within seconds. It landed, with outstretched red wings that darkened the sky. With a simple toss, it was able to grab an entire house and throw it into the village. It's body took up the entire beach, it's head luring over the houses of the village.

It was red, completely fury red. Only it's eyes were blue, and its underbelly a lighter orange. It did not seem to take note of dagon in the slightest. It's mouth opened, and unleashed a torrent of fire on the those below it. Everyone was running now. Even the soldiers had abandoned their weaponry and turned tail. For the simple fact that a single claw of this beast matched the size of a soldier.

Those hit by the fire, were burned dead before their charcoal bodies hit the ground. Dagon, by some mercy, did not stand in whatever area it was engulfing in flames.

The dragon kept on its destructive lashing. The town was quickly turning to rubble. The tail whipped Dagon off with a single lash, throwing him off and into the town square where by terrible fate, the dragons eyes landed on him. It raised its hand, and slashes his claw at Dagon. Causing Dagon to be launched back and get close to the point of fainting.

The sword that dagon held had gotten stuck in the dragons claw. It raised the claw up to its face, observing the sword that barely penetrated it's scales fall down to the ground. Realising what Dagon had just done...

The dragon walked forward to Dagon, ignoring all the other chaos around him. Its head leaned over Dagon from high above as it talked in an indecipherable language.

"Et orta fatuus?" The dragon's voice boomed like a storm, removing all other sounds. "Tantum temporis poterit indicare." A claw was held above Dagon, hovering ever so slowly closer to his chest. With a sudden, unknown force, Dagon's chest ripped open. Dagon himself lifted up from the force, before falling back down. Though for some reason, he was not dead yet. On the end of the dragon's claw sat impaled a heart. Dagon's heart. It glowed intensely as the dragon raised it to his own face, while Dagon's chest closed and healed at a rapid rate. The dragon opened its maw, allowing the heart, now glowing bright orange, to fall down his throat.

Dagon passed out, though not dead, as the dragon fled.

---

His mentor eventually found his body. He put his hand on Dagon's chest, his ear over Dagon's mouth. "Hey! Help me! He's alive!"

Dagon awoke in his own room. Feeling sore, barely able to stand.

There was a pain at his chest as he sat up. It was the feeling of his new scar moving for the first time. A large scar vertically across his chest.

The room was simple. It was his own home. Some herbs hung, his bed was below his back, and some storage hung around lazily. Some rusty old weaponry he had made as projects before were slumped together too. The house was more of a place to spend the night at than anything else. His life had him in the forge most of the time any ways.

The moment he touched the scar, a booming voice sounded from within him. As if someone was speaking from within the very place his heart should rest.

"If you would face me... Take up arms arisen."

This sudden voice would surely be cause for some reaction. Whichever it was, Dagon would realise his limbs moved quite normally and without much protest.