Story behind your fighter

(Hoping this is where I can write it out for the contest. Anyways, here goes.)
Dray`Gon readied his sword as he slowly walked through the forest home to the Keldei. He recalled how the initial attack on the peace-loving species had caught him and his fellow warriors of guard, proving to be a fierce foe when provoked. He would not allow himself to underestimate his opponents again.

In the distance, a snapping twig could be heard. Dray`Gon quickly spun around to discover it's origin. He then recalled how the Ralak and the Keldei both were ambushed by the jix'Su on that same fateful day. With two known enemies, one fierce and one sneaky, Dray`Gon had to be ready for anything.

Leaping over a fallen tree, Dray`Gon surveyed the surroundings. This was the location of the ruins he was sent to find that was rumored to have the resources needed to craft finer blades for the Ralak. Having been instrumental to aiding the Ralak in finding an escape from the three-way battle and discovering an easily defensible location for a base of operations, Dray`Gon had taken great steps to becoming a new lord. He hoped this latest mission would be what he'd need to cement his place in the Ralak royalty.

Dray`Gon quickly rushed to the ruined entrance, finding the stairs that led down. He had to be the first to reach the goal. In his rush he neglected to watch out a pressure trap that caused the passageway behind him to seal. Dray`Gon quickly spun around and cursed himself for being negligent. Another door closed on the path before sealing him in the small corridoor. Dray`Gon tried with all his might to lift one of the doors but his strength was not enough to even budge it.

More rumbling occured and Dray`Gon soon found his small space was getting even smaller. Quickly scanning the walls, Dray`Gon searched for some other way out. He could not go out like this. Surely enough Dray`Gon found a stone in the wall that could be moved. Moving quickly, he pulled several stones from the wall to find another room. He squeezed through the gap in barely enough time to escape his certain demise.

Dray`Gon quickly jumped to his feet and readied his sword once more. Using a bit of fire magic, he created a small light in order to better see. He was in a room with two exits, both on opposite sides of the room. Skeletons of previous inhabitants littered the floor on both sides. Spider webs cling to the ceilings and walls of this room and to the two pillars that seemed designed to hold the place together. Broken arrows could be seen against some walls, while other arrows were imbedded within some of the piles of bones.

"More traps," Dray`Gon quietly murmered to himself. He took a moment to examine the floor and the bones. Using his intellect, he determined the location of a few pressure plates. More seemed to be located towards his right side than to his left. Not wanting to take chances, Dray`Gon used magic to increase his defense should he inadvertently set off another trap.

Heading down towards his left, he heard an echoing sound of footstepscoming from behind him. Turning around, he spotted a jix'Su. "So, there is another entrance around here," Dray`Gon remarked as he turned to face his new adversary. He then evaluated the situation to determine the best course of action.

"No doubt the jix'Su would be unaware of the traps, but what garantee could I place on not accidently setting off a trap myself," he thought to himself. Still, fleeing without a fight was not within his code of honor. The jix'Su also seemed to be hesitant to approach the Ralak. "Perhaps it's had its own run-ins with traps," Dray`Gon thought, "or perhaps it's trying to determine a way to throw me off guard".

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, trying to read each other's thoughts. Dray`Gon finally broke the silence as he hurled the ball of fire into the center of the room. Like-wise, the jix'Su rushed forwards, only briefly, however, before it had to avoid an arrow that was headed for its' head. Dray'Gon smirked as he charged forwards, treading along a path he had already determined to be safe. The jix'Su recovered moments before the Ralak reached him, and pulled its spear in front to block the blow. Dray`Gon took another strike hoping to force the jix'Su back onto another touchplate, but this time ther jix'Su dodged around to his side and brought about its spear. Dray`Gon barely managed to parry the blow and returned it with another attack. Their weapons met in the middle and locked for a moment. Dray`Gon quickly set forth to kick the jix'Su back. This caught the Jix'Su off guard and he stumbled backwards. It then threw it's spear at Dray`Gon forcing him to dive forwards under the attack.

Dray`Gon was now prone at the feet of the Jix'Su, not an ideal place to be. The Jix'Su summoned anotehr spear and prepared to thrust it through Dray`Gon. Noting a touchplate just between the feet of the Jix'Su, Dray`Gon quickly slammed his fist onto it causing an arrow to strike the jix'Su in its side. Dray`Gon rushed to his feet and followed up with his own attack felling the Jix'Su. With that battle out of the way, Dray`Gon had to hurry forwards before more foes appeared.

Watching his steps, he proceeded down a series of corridors till he arrived at a large antichamber. In the center of the room, there was a pedestal with a weapon hovering above it. A single column of light fell from the ceiling to the pedestal. There were at least three otehr entrances into this room. With his sword ready, he slowly approached the pedestal, looking at the floor and the other passageways in an attempt to avoid any other surpises.

Finally, Dray`Gon approached the weapon. This appeared to be what he was looking for, though not in the way he was hoping. The weapon was a sword of excellent design. It seemed to be made of a metal material that Dray`Gon had not seen before. The blade was of a black metal, and the hilt was overlayed with gold and gems. Dray`Gon reached for the blade but soon found his limbs being held fast by roots.

"Another trap?" the Ralak let out before he noticed a glowing figure across the room. It appeared to be a Keldei, but was entirely blue and somewhat translucent. "Who dares to enter this sanctum and retrieve the sacred weapon?" boomed a voice from the figure. Dray`Gon thought of how to respond. Clearly this figured seemed to be a Keldei, and already shows signs of hostility towards him. Still, he had to buy time to free himself.

"I am Lord Dray`Gon," he shouted, hoping to intimidate the spirit.

"Ha! Lord you say, yet you do not have the markings of one, Ralak." Dray`Gon grew silent. How could this Keldei spirit know he was not yet a lord, much less how lords are identified. "You think to impress me with false titles. Surely, one such as you is not worthy of the weapon you seek."

Enraged, Dray`Gon shouted, "Who are you to say what I am worthy of or not! I have battled many of your kind before, and those of the jix'Su. Perhaps you are merely angered by the fact that I am as skilled as I am."

The spirit responded, "While it may be true that you have slain many Keldei and jix'Su. It is hardly a testament of your worth. To answer your first question, I am the guardian of this sacred blade and I do not hold favoritism to any species, even to a Keldei. I measure a person's true worth and so far, I have seen little reason to allow you to remain."

Having nearly freed himself from the vines around him, Dray`Gon needed to buy more time. "And how do you measure worth? I have gotten past your traps, and I am the first to arrive here. That must account for something."

The spirit laughed. "The traps are merely to keep the weak from getting this far, and to think you are the first tom come shows how ignorant you are. Many have come before and all have failed the test. You are no different."

"I shall prove you wrong. Show me the test so that I might pass it."

"Very well, if you are so insistent."

Dray`Gon suddenly felt his bonds being released. He prepared to reach for the sword only to discover it was now blocked off from his reach. The passageways also were now sealed. It would seem he would have to attempt this test, or die trying.

"Your test is to defeat me in combat. Do this, and you shall be considered worthy of the weapon."

A test of combat, Dray`Gon was pleased by this. Combat was a specialty of his. Still, this spirit may be more than any other foe he had faced before. He had to be sure not to let his confidence allow him to underestimate his opponent.

Dray`Gon faced the spirit, slowly circling around gauging his enemy. He waited for the spirit to make the first move. The spirit summoned a battleaxe from thin air, an actual physical one, and lunged at Dray`Gon. Dray`Gon barely avoided the attack and brought his sword around to strike at the spirit's side. His attack was blocked as the spirit brought his battleaxe around for a series of attacks. It was almost everything Dray`Gon could do to keep the axe from connecting. Using a spare moment, Dray`Gon shot forth a gout of flame at the spirit. The blast passed right through, however, and the spirit resumed it's assault. Dray`Gon rolled away from another strike then rolled back towards the spirit with hsi sword ready and stabbed at the spirit. His blade too seemed to not affect the spirit.

His magic having failed, and the spirit not being affected by his blade, Dray`Gon soon thought all hope was lost. A deep fire then began to burn inside of him. He couldn't give up. There was no option for quitting. There had to be a way to defeat this spirit and he had to find it. Thrusting back the last attack from the spirit, Dray`Gon started his own series of blows. Each one was parried by the battleaxe the spirit wielded, with the final one locking the weapons together. Soon the spirit worked to twist the sword out of Dray`Gon's hands. Firmly grabbing his blade with both hands, Dray`Gon worked with the spin to try and turn the disarm attempt around.

After a couple more spins, just as Dray`Gon thought he could not hold onto the sword much longer, the battleaxe flew from the spirit's hand and faded into the darkness. The spirit too seemed to disappear. Then the booming voice was heard once more, though in a slightly different tone. "It seems I was mistaken. Perhaps you are worthy of the weapon after all. Take note that this weapon can take the shape of whatever instrument you desire. It is yours and yours alone."

The spirit re-emerged though this time it appeared to be a Vedyn. Dray`Gon recalled seeing one before when it seemed he, the Ralak, and the Keldei were about to be annihilated by the jix'Su. It was they that came in to even the battlefield. Perhaps again this heralded a time when there was a further imbalance. With that thought, Dray`Gon began to think about the camp of Ralaks and feared that something may have happened to them. Quickly grabbing the sword, Dray`Gon rushed out of the ruins to return and find out the fate of the other Ralaks.

To be continued...

Slip has been on his own for 250 years. He grew up with only one mentality "survive" and he will do anything to keep himself alive. Dragons and their descendants have been persecuted through the ages so Slip learned long ago there is no time for mercy, kill your opponent fast before he can kill you. this is how slip lives his life and hows he's survived this long. "When death is your only friend you no longer fear it."

Steve woke with a start. He could just barely remember his dreams, ephemeral as they were. There was a crackling of orange and red, a mother screaming for he child to be saved, then a traveling creek guiding him to the unknown. His dreams were always the same. Quietly he opened the heavy oak inn door preparing himself for the night that awaited him.

The winds were swift that night, although Steve remained stoic. Hardened by the life of living without family, he walked from the inn where he had stayed into the crisp darkness. ralak being known for their animalistic qualities, Steve could provide food for himself, whether it was from a scurrying pack of mice or a paucity of fruit purple as the setting sky, with flavour of sand. As a bedouin, he traveled across the land, searching far and wide for a purpose. Suddenly, lightning split the dark sky open, leaving a burning crack through the clouds. As if it were a scout sending the call-to-arms, a deluge of raid plummeted from high above. A primal instinct was triggered, and sent the ralak searching for safety. Alone in a clearing next to a creek overflowing, brown and foaming from the mud runoff of the mountainside, stood a dilapidated village. Steve slowly walked across cold stone, his nails clicking he saw scars from fire lashed out against homes, roofs charred into oblivion. The wind was barely an audible whisper. At the very end of the procession of blackened homes sat a cottage that hid an opaque reflective lake. Urged by the whispers of the wind and the mutterings of the creek, Steve took a step inside the cottage. Even though light was scarce, Steve could make out a few items – a table made of misshapen yew wood, a broken metal cradle for a child, and a wall of books. Steve's curiosity got the better of him, as he walked over to the pages holding secrets the winds spoke of. Tentatively, he reached out his hand for a dull orange book. As he opened it, he saw that all pages were scorched to the spine. Again and again, Steve reached out for more and more pages, only to have his eyes grasp only pages of burnt secrets. Enraged, he smashed his fist against the bookcase, sending the books and pages fleeing everywhere. His eyes now adjusted to the darkness, Steve walked to the cradle, and bent over to look inside. There lay a mass of blankets, wrapped up like a stranger traveling in the dead of winter. Ripping open the knot of cloth, his eyes laid upon a solitary brown, leather bound book. With a hand cautious not to be tricked again into reaching for a souvenir of flame, his hand cautiously grasped around the spine. Slowly sauntering back to the yew table, Steve laid the book open on the table, and read the shining black scrawl within.

“I remembered feeling her hands, soft and small, slip through mine. Her fingers knew something she didn't, some feeling of acceptance. The black eyes screamed 'No!', yet it was drowned by her tears. I remember. I remember the soft whimper coaxed from her lips, as if by a cruel string. With that, she was gone. There wasn't any beauty in her death, no, it was ungraceful as she stumbled backwards and laid sprawled onto the rough, weather-hewn stone.. I ran outside the dilapidated home, cursing the night. All I could do was yell deeply to the unwavering stars. I thought 'Maybe, if I screamed enough, she would stand up and everything would be the same. We would stroll around our lake and meander through the city. Things were going to be all right...”
               “The flames flickered throughout the encompassing darkness, gently hissing closer and closer just barely missing him. I realized that I had to survive. It was like there was a primal instinct that had been awakened inside of me. I needed to survive. I dived for cover behind a street vendor's wares. Dashing through like a madman, I stormed into a bookstore in which The Owner was asleep, his hands intertwined peacefully. Hiding from the raiders and their ever-encroaching flame could easily be accomplished by hiding inside a large space inside a bookcase. My breath was heavy and loud, like my pursuers' boots. I then saw a spectacle that drove me insane - She was being dragged through the streets, her crimson blood staining the ground. The dress she wore once looked like it was dancing when she walked, but now it looked limp. Being able to stand no more, I had to run into the street proclaiming, 'You cur! You have not only taken but also desecrated a human life. Isn't she like you? Have she not a face, a mind, a heart, a soul?'
                 My only reply was a sword being elevated to my face. I just screamed louder and louder, so I wouldn't hear the command to kill. A sudden pain rolled over , seeping into all of my body. I thought, ' Is this how I am to die? Like a rosebud clipped before its time?' Memories flooded me. . Memories of my lover, memories of my son Steve; my fa--

Somewhere after his father's angular, black handwriting was scribbled a note near the end of the journal. In flowing midnight blue, like after an ocean's tempest, Steve could see an addition that read

“The world was quiet for these seconds, the world had him in mind in his last moments.
                           
Now they drag him and his lover together at last.”                                         

Quietly, Steve stood rooted to the spot where his father once stood. Now he knew of the story of the ralak crusade. In an effort to push out the Jix'Su and the peaceful Keldei, the Ralak had killed their own kind. Brutally. Mercilessly. A flicker of anger passed, displaced by the intangible weighty smoke of sorrow. From this day on, Steve would wear the colour of the flame that destroyed his home, as a burning reminder to himself that someday peace must be made.

And so, Steve took his first step, his father's journal tightly pressed between his heart and his garments into the East, waiting for a dawn he knew would come.

Drax was born to a long line of military tradition. He was taught how to enchant a blade before he could walk. He was sparing with his brothers before his first day of school. It came as no suprise that when he turned of age for military service that he joined immediately. He soon became well known for charging the enemy front lines alone, and he was nearly unbeatable in the sparing ring.

When the ralak army returned from thier latest successful conquest to find thier beloved Ember Plains in ruins, Drax led one of the parties that was set out in search of a new home.

When Drax returned from his unsuccessful search he found out that another party had discovered a lush world populated by a strong but peacful race. Believing these creatures to be easily conqured, the Ralakian army prepared for battle once again.

When the army arrived at the new world they told the creatures, The Keldei, to lay down thier arms and accept thier new masters. Instead the Keldei roared and charged the Ralak.

Unsuprised, because he never trusted what military intelligence knew for certain, Drax drew his sword and charged the Keldei. Time went on and drax soon lost track of how many enemies he had slain. He felt like he had been fighting for an eternity and he needed a rest. He quickly worked his way to the edge of the conflict so he could rest and take stock of the situation. Many warriors had fallen on both sides, and those still standing looked tired.

It was then that the treacherous Jix'su sprung thier trap.
Surrounding the two armies, the vile creatures demanded that the ralak and the keldei lay down thier arms and pledge loyalty to the Jix'su queen. Lord Veles of the Ralak answered the Jix'su by charging. He was brought down in a rain of arrows before he even got half way there.

Drax knew that he would rather die in honorable combat that be a slave to these loathsome creatures. Drax readied to charge the Jix'su, knowing that he would die long before he reachied thier battle line. When suddenly one of the Jix'su infront of him collapsed with a Ralak sword protruding from it's chest.

Drax knew that his brothers were behind him and, even if he fell, perhaps one of them would make it to the Jix'su line and avenge his death. Filled with renewed strength Drax charged and prepared to defend himself from the arrows as best he could.

As the Jix'su opened fire on the Ralak and Keldei, something strange happened. The Ralak and Keldei began to glow with a golden light, the the arrows seemed to bounce off of them with no effect. The Jix'su became scared and began to flee, but it it was too late.

Drax collided with the Jix'su line and began cleaving from one to another. Most still had thier bows out and fell quickly with out a chance to defend themselves. A few fled and those Drax let go...They would be hunted down soon enough.

Soon, Drax realised that the battle field was nearly empty. the three races had all fallen back to dress thier wounds and ready them selves for the next battle. Drax returned to the camp and laid down to rest, he would need his strength for the comming war.