Daardendrian Mishaan

Dragonborn fighter intimidating at first glance, drawing caution from those who first encounter


what you look like, what you might carry, how you might act to certain stimuli.

Green scaley skin, small horns, claws, underbite with visible lower fangs, heavily armored. Large in size tall and heavy set. Can eat. Obsessed with flying. Jumps from unsafe heights, walking along windy ledges. Cold blooded lounges in the sun and near the fire. Lethargic in the morning until the blood gets flowing. Concerned about breathing poison and effect on her teeth. Carefully brushes each tooth with bark each night and seeks a dentist whenever in town. Always picking things up and trying to clean teeth, and sometimes accidentally breaking them. My family and my clan are the most important thing in my life, even when I’m far from them. I must honor myself in all things, in doing so I bring honor to my clan. Ridiculed and socially isolated as a child and young adult due to my size and looks. Isolating, most had never encountered someone of my race. I have made a life by surviving, gaining strength, teaching myself, and being self reliant. My heart is drawn to those who have experienced similar in their past or those who are being intimidated or ridiculed. I’m looking for acceptance and purpose. I want to known what it feels like to have a friend. I’m burdened by the weak and helpless, although I can’t turn my back. I believe that eventually the strong survive and the weak perish, but as my goal to bring honor to my family and clan I strive to be a better person and help when I can. It’s my goal to rejoin my clan and live among them someday.


Where you come from, what you have done.

Playing in the jungle near Qbarra with my sister at the age of 4. My grandfather’s dagger in hand, slashing at vines. I knew I would be in trouble for playing with it, my sister had warned me not to take it from the case in my parents room. I just wanted to know what it felt like to cut something with it. When my father called for us to come, my eyes widened and I froze. I watched my sister run to the village, and I hid in a small cave. It started to get dark and I could hear my parents looking for me. Still I didn’t come out. I could hear my parents teachings in my head about honor. I knew I was going to be in trouble, and I knew my father was going to punish me. Lashings always hurt, but the dishonor I have brought on myself and my clan would be worse. I left the cave, it was dark. I felt afraid and alone. I wandered for some time, feeling exhausted and finally realizing I was lost tucked the dagger under my tunic and laid down to sleep under a tree. I was awakened by a disheveled man not of my own kind with dark eyes, greasy hair and bad teeth. He grabbed me and tied me with rope and gagged my mouth with the bandanna from his forehead. He put a plant to my nose and I could feel myself getting sleepy. The last I remember of that day was the taste of salt and the mutter of a pretty sum of gold.

I awoke in a room with others not like me. An orphanage they called it, a miserable place. I came to discover they had no parents for different reasons. The others were afraid of me. The older ones made fun of me, poked me with sticks and eating utensils. When I tried to leave, I wasn’t allowed. Even if I escaped, where would I go? I felt homesick for my sister and parents and for my clan. I clung to the one thing I had managed to keep secret, my grandfather’s dagger.

My step parents were of a human race as were most in the land I had found myself in. They lived a privileged life. Unable to have any children of their own, they agreed to visit the orphanage. Seeing the squallor and mistreatment, they took pity on me, and brought me to their home. They were kind to me and loved me.
They wanted me to fit in. They tried to teach me about manners and the value of expensive things. The clothes they had me wear were costly, itchy and not at all practical. I wanted to please them and eventually I could see that none of it mattered, among the humans I was an outcast. I was too noisy when I ate. I didn’t look like my parents or anyone, and I didn’t fit in. I was ridiculed and taunted for the color of my skin and large size. I asked my stepfather if I could learn to fight to defend myself. He was reluctant, but when I was 15 decided he would honor my request. He told me if I was going to learn, only the best would do. He sent to me away to school at a hefty price.

There were a few others of different clans at the school, one of them being my mentor Rhogar. When he entered, a hush fell over the room. He demanded respect. He was educated, well spoken, inspired confidence, and appeared to always be comfortable in his own skin. In many ways he reminded me of what I remember of my Dragonborn father, although he was a red dragon from the clan Nemmonis. His breath weapon was fire, and he was skilled in both simple and martial weapons and a master of martial combat. He encouraged me to learn of my heritage and refine my clan given breath weapon, poison. He referred me to fascinating books about Dragonborn culture and history, other races and classes, fighting, and religion. I read everything I could get my hands on.

Daardendrian Mishaan

Morwindl - Rising Tide Bortas juliehamner1