Tektite

Tektite is half Dragon half Human. He found a love of geology and alchemy from his adopted father Gaius, and was named after the meteor.

He was taken in by the Sisters of the Church of Erebe and that is where he met his life-long friend, Adelais.

His innate dragon powers are yet uncontrolled and therefore result in spontaneous eruptions of acid as a cough or sneeze. Adelais has been the only one to accept him for who he is and always has her shield handy.

Appearance
Tektite is Dragon in appearance, though for his humanoid form he is mistaken for a "lizard-man". His scales are dark, that appear black at first but show a glassy green when hitting the light. His horns curve downwards, though one is snapped.

Having never quite recovered from the abuse of his childhood, Tektite is stooped in frame and covered in scars. His wings, that he keeps hidden away under folds of fabric, are torn and limp; not capable of flight.

Tektite now bears the mark of the Lady of Jade. The symbol is etched through his breastplate and onto his skin. The mark is a continuous line in the shape of an eye with a slit pupil. This swears him to the Lady of Jade as his deity.

History
A shrill cry was the waking of the dragon child. A tired mother gazed at the runt with pity and fear. He wasn’t good enough. He was too small, born too soon. A roar was the anger of his father. Talons of darkness ripped the dragon child from his mother’s arms and threw him to the nest of others.

The bleating child miraculously lived through the torture of his brutish siblings. His body may be crippled but his mind is strong, his cunning kept him out of danger; to the shadows he hid. When the dragon child saw light of day he crawled away from the pit of talons. His small size let him escape into the world through a crack in the rock cave.

On beaten roads he trod, he learnt to walk with the help of a strong ebony branch. His first encounter with another life was that of pity and disgust. In towns, the creatures would curse and scorn him. He covered himself with a tattered robe and was beaten out of the town by a merchant for stealing. He picked up few words, but never uttered them. Years went by still and he wandered, keeping to the shelter of the woods, never stopping for too long.

Wary in the outskirts of towns and camps; it became increasingly hard to find sanctuary in the growing population of the civilisation of man.

When the dragon child’s innate powers set in the poor creature spent days and nights coughing acid. In one of the harshest days of his life he was met by a person of overwhelming kindness. An alchemist from the town of Rosevale (row-ce-vale) spotted him by the roadside. Gaius, as he became known, took the dragon child in, clothed him, fed him, treated his wounds.

Later he taught him to speak, to write, to recognise plant from plant, tree from tree, rock from rock. Through Gaius' love of geology he came to name the dragon child, Tektite, after the meteor: a gift that came from the Heavens; a rock that looks at first black as night but on closer inspection a deep glassy green; the colour and shine of Tektite's scales.

A child no more, Tektite had learnt much alchemy from Gaius, but nothing of the world. His innate dragon powers were stronger than ever before and still he couldn’t grasp control. When the Sisters from the Holy Church of Ebere came to Rosevale, Gaius asked Tektite if he would like to live among them. He accepted in the hopes they could teach him how to control his powers.

From out of the sunshine lit farm town, Tektite travelled to rainy Stormroque Bay. There he lived and learnt. The Sisters taught him etiquette and treated him with such kindness. His past forgotten, he lived many years in peace.

Where the other orphans learnt swordplay he would watch; the sisters feared he was too fragile to fight. There had been too many mishaps when they attempted to learn and control his dragon powers.

He took instead to studying with others with Magics. But his own power was too eruptive to contain; he would spit acid at the walls, on his own clothes. A young orphan girl ran screaming in pain into the courtyard, her arm melted. Tektite was no longer allowed to study with the other students; and retreated into the library.

Tektite kept away from the other students when he could. He would instead spend time with the Sisters until one occasion: A zealous child once took it upon himself to rid the Church of the “Dragon”. Swordplay often brought out that kind of “Honour”. The child, a “Knight”, ran his sword right through the chest of the “Dragon”. Tektite lay crumpled on the floor, all the while apologising profusely, beneath the scour of the triumphant child. That was when he met his life-long friend, Adelais; as she stepped up and defended him.

Tektite and Adelais have travelled together ever since.

Sister Florence created a steel breastplate for Tektite with an emblazoned insignia; depicting snapdragons for their meaning of “inner strength”.

On Events:
Tektite was pleased for Adelais, he really was. But he didn’t understand. Ebere, Adelais’ god, had never spoken to her before in the hallowed halls of the Church in Stormroque, where she and Tektite had been brought up. Why now, in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a ruined City street far from the Sisters, in the presence of a witch hunter? Tektite wasn’t complaining: he liked it here; he felt at home, like he blended with the walls. There were others like him, not like him, but relatable. Here, it didn’t matter that he was a dragon.

Tektite thought that gods were supposed to be silent and unseen, wasn’t that the point? They are an idea, a belief, a faith. In this City, where the walls are higher than steeples, this term “god” gets thrown around an awful lot, like they’re everywhere. Tektite wonders, Adelais could be a god, he could be a god. Prince sure looks like a god. Mr Stevens has the strength of a god. Greta sure has the power to rally equal to that of a god. It was a concept Tektite couldn’t grasp, and it scared him. It scared him now that Adelais had heard Ebere. She is in great danger, it’s a trick. It’s a summons. It’s a whisper of darkness, like the tainted rocks.

Tektite thought of the mark that won’t go away. He knew that pain. When he saw, helplessly, the candelabra run Adelais through he remembered the white hot pain of the sword. In a memory, Tektite looked down at his blood stained hands, gleaming longsword stuck through his chest right up to the hilt. He stared down into the face of a child, before his vision went black. He was nursed, he survived. But the fevers between were strong. Was Adelais’ mark creating visions? Was the wound as tainted as the rock?