Samanayr name
Misery of the Broken Stone
RP Font Color
maroon
Gender
Male
Species
Misery
Age
Middle aged adult
Physical description
Misery has a thick, fluffy white coat, marred on the hind legs by old burn scars grown over with black fur. Around his neck is a dark red 'collar' that matches the tips of his ears and the long ruff of fur down his back that marks him as a Misery. His left eye is green, his right amber. Around his long, prehensile tail he wears a trio of platinum rings, one much wider than the other two. All four feet resemble hands and can be used to manipulate objects or grasp the rough rocks of his mountain home.
Personality
By nature he is a loner, a preference enforced by the negative feelings most others of the Kin hold for his kind. He is often short tempered and snappish, but not inclined to fight other than verbally. An attempt to physically attack him is likely to provoke a magical counterattack and a defensive retreat. Despite wanting little to do with others, he loves learning and craves books and scrolls to read and examine. There is a love of beauty in him as well, though he prefers the cool, clean lines of a geometric design to the untidiness of more fluid patterns. While it is difficult to win his affection, or even just tolerance, once earned, it is even harder to shake. Similarly, while he may be slow to dislike or hate you personally rather than just general annoyance, he will hold a grudge for a very, very long time.
Despite a certain amount of self-hatred and inner turmoil he is somewhat vain and prefers to be carefully groomed, his coat smooth and sleek. Given the thickness of his fur this means he spends a fair bit of time grooming.
Abilities (magical and otherwise)
As an earth Misery he can manipulate, locate, and identify stones and rocks of all sorts. He can tell where precious stones and metals are under the earth and draw them to the surface. Once he has them in his paws he can manipulate and reform them, magically forming jewelry, weapons, toys, or whatever thing he fancies to make. He finds this to be soothing, working with metal and stones. He can also cause tiny fractures in gemstones to facet them, and use the same ability to cause the ground to crack and split as though bone dry. When in the grip of strong emotions he can occasionally cause stone spikes to shoot up from the ground, deep pits or sinkholes to form, or magically fling small stones through the air. On the non-magical side he knows how to read and write and speaks with very little trace of the Samanayr accent due to not having been raised around his own kind.
History
No one knows why Misery was born as he was, least of all his parents. Both his parents, powerful Air Mystics, were appalled and horrified at the sight of that thick mane on their foal's back. The mare swore that she had been with no other and had used none of the Sharian made modiems while pregnant. And the foal resembled her no more than he did her stallion. By mutual agreement the pair took the foal to the very edge of their territory and left him at the foot of the mountains that bordered it. If he survived on his own then he was meant to live. If he didn't they would never know.
As it happened there were other races dwelling near those mountains, and the occasional poacher that ventured into the edges of the Sharian held territory in search of pets to sell to humans and other collectors. One such found the foal soon after he was left and joyfully snatched him up, scurrying swiftly back across the pass through the mountains to sell this find. It was rare to find one this young, and the poacher had never seen one with a mane all down its back like this. He hadn't a clue what it meant, only that if it was rare it should drive the price up for the exoticness.
The mage who bought the foal didn't know what the back mane meant either and didn't care. It was soft and pleasant to stroke while working, and the old fellow found the look of his new pet/familiar pleasantly exotic and restful to look upon.
It took him quite aback when he returned home one day to find several of his books scattered over the floor and the young Samanayr attempting to read them. The first several times this happened he refused to believe that it could possibly be what it looked like and simply scolded the youngster for causing a mess and risking damaging the precious tomes. That lasted right up until the Misery grew frustrated and wrapped his tail around the mage's arm and squeakily protested, "Want to read it!" Up until then the mage had discounted the notion that Samanayrs were an intelligent species, and hearing one speak came as quite a shock.
After that, their relationship changed drastically. The mage came to consider his 'pet' almost as an apprentice, allowing him to perch on the arm of his chair and read along, letting him try some of the basic spells. The next few years were some of the happiest of the youngsters life. He grew rapidly, winding up almost two feet tall and more than twice that long when he uncurled his tail. He was allowed to read any book the mage owned, roam where he liked, experiment with his own small set of magical tools. The mage was fascinated with him, and quite willing to spoil him.
But the mage had been old when he purchased the foal, and there came a day when he didn't awaken. When folks from the nearest village came to check on him after several days they took the young Misery to sell as they set about burying the old mage. He had no next of kin, no one to claim his belongings now that he was gone, and so they considered them theirs to take in exchange for this final service.
This time the Misery found himself in the hands of a collector, one who considered him nothing more than a beast. Any attempt to speak was punished, any move to read ignored and the book snatched away. He wasn't allowed any scrap of meat or sweet, only boring grains and hay. And worse...he met others of his own kind for the first time since he was born. He had no clue what he was, but they knew very well. Almost all of them were wild caught, many as adults. All of them held the prejudice against Miseries and hated him on sight.
At first he couldn't speak with them, a fact that seemed to make them despise him all the more. But as he gradually came to learn the Samanayr tongue he began to learn why they hated him. They weren't permitted to attack him, but their owner couldn't stop them from dripping poisonous words in the Misery's ear. Slowly he began to doubt himself, what he was and knew. At times he almost hated himself. At other times he hated the others worse. Slowly he turned surly, reclusive. He lashed out at anyone approaching him with sparks of half understood magic. Those tending to the Samanayrs wondered why the stone floor sometimes trembled and why so many cracks had recently begun to appear in the walls. No one ever linked it to him. How would a mere animal have caused something like that?
The real trouble began when an injured fire Mystic was added to the collection. Misery had thought that the other Samanayrs hated him. He soon found that that was nothing compared to the hatred this stallion had for him. The Mystic stallion burned with that hatred, little flamelets dancing over his hide whenever his gaze fell upon the Misery. Many harsh words were exchanged, most encounters ending with the Misery retreating in confusion to a far corner of the chamber they were kept in. Very little magic was used, up until the final confrontation.
During the warmer months a door was opened to allow the Samanayrs access to an outdoors pasture where they could enjoy the sun and graze on fresh grass. The Misery tended to take himself off to the far corners where he could be alone, and perhaps toy with the stones he found there. In the past the others had left him be, staying as far from his chosen corner as they could. However, the Mystic wasn't inclined to follow that pattern. As soon as his wounds healed and he could move fairly well again, he took himself off after Misery.
It began like most of their fights, with scornful words about his nameless state, the shame of being what he was, the usual insults that Misery could nearly ignore. It wasn't until the words, "cleanse the woyrld of you," sank in that he had any inkling of what the Mystic intended. Even as his head shot up flames lashed out at him. With a yelp Misery scrambled back, but the Mystic followed, sneering scornfully at a foe who wouldn't fight. When he felt the fence at his back and knew himself trapped, something inside Misery seemed to snap. He shrieked in pain and defiance, and the earth underfoot trembled, then more than trembled. With a groaning sound deep pits opened under the lines of fire, under the Mystic himself. Flame lashed again, searing his hind feet as he reared away from it, then the earth seemed to twist and shift underfoot until it had smothered the flames. At some point during the fight he blacked out, rage blotting out his memory.
The next thing he could remember was waking to agony in the mountains. His hind feet were badly scorched, much of his fur was streaked with soot and mud, every bit of him ached, he was covered with scratches, matted and tangled with leaves, and he remembered none of how he came to be in this state. He didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there. His last memory was fighting for his life as power seemed to flow through him. One thing he knew though was that he didn't want to go back.
Slowly, painfully he worked his way deeper into the mountains, away from everything he had ever known. The mountains were...soothing. So little seemed to live here. Nothing hated him here. The earth under him welcomed his presence, or so it seemed to his feverish mind. He would stay here then, far from others. He could heal and start a new life. And to start it...he would choose a name.
The Misery stood on a shelf, looking out over the rich forests he'd found on the far side of the mountains, further north of where he'd crossed. Little though he knew it his birthplace lay somewhere amongst those trees far below. He had found a cave, a whole system of them, crossed by underground streams both hot and cold, entirely uninhabited as far as he could tell. The trails were narrow, easily defended. This was where he intended to make his home. Though he gazed down at the trees, he didn't see them. His thoughts were turned inwards, towards what he knew of himself, of his kind, his species. For a long time he stood there, thinking. At last, with a sour laugh, he named himself. "Everything I touch breaks. Only the stone forgives. I am Misery of the Broken Stone."
Turning away he was startled as a pair of vivid green eyes blinked up at him, and a coppery form uncurled from the path to wag twin tails happily at him As he stared in startlement at the unexpected figure a voice spoke into his head, chirping merrily.
"Hello Misery of the Broken Stone," it chirped, each word of his new name carefully sounded out mentally,
"I'm Copper, just Copper! I think you need a friend. Gonna stay with you and be your friend, yes I am! You like that?"
Misery didn't answer, simply scooted slowly away down the path, warily watching this strange fluffball. It gazed hopefully after him as he retreated. Misery waited until he was around an outcropping, the turned and fled back to his cave. But somehow the strange little creature had gotten around him, for when he got there, it was there first, tongue lolling out as it panted cheerfully.
It took some time before Misery gave in and accepted the presence of the little creature, whom nothing seemed to shake loose or upset for long. Eventually he resigned himself to the cheerful little chatterbox and settled in. He left his mountain home rarely, occasionally seeking wandering peddlers in hopes of finding books to trade for metals and gems. Whenever he spotted another Samanayr he retreated, staying out of sight.
Song
No. Not likely to ever happen as he dislikes company and doesn't trust readily.
Likes
Working rocks and metal, reading, learning, Copper though he won't admit it.
Dislikes
Fire magic, company, fighting, confrontation, bright lights, loud sounds.
Aspirations and goals
To refine his grasp on his powers.
Fears
Burning, drowning.
Favorite color
The silvery sheen of polished metal.
Odd fact
Misery's eyes and ears are sensitive, making bright lights and loud sounds somewhat painful for him. He prefers to be nocturnal so as to avoid them.
Name
Copper
Gender
Male
Species
Kreenasa Dragonet
About
Copper is a young Kreenasa Dragonet who discovered a lonely Misery shortly after leaving his mother and striking out on his own. He is a very friendly, outgoing fellow who loves to talk and be the center of attention. He is about as different from the Samanayr he 'adopted' as could be, but nothing could convince him to leave Misery now. Often when Misery goes down to attempt to trade Copper will wind up chatting with the locals, but he always winds up back in the cave in the end and seems to have never told them anything about his friend.
He loves the fact that Misery has handlike paws that can comb his fur and scratch his ears and belly, and will often entreat Misery to groom him. In an attempt to distract him, Misery has created any number of stone toys, and even gone so far as to braid grasses and such into toys as well. Copper's favorite thing remains snuggling up against Misery's side and maintaining a steady, one-sided stream of chatter which Misery has mostly learned to tune out and continue reading.
