Dezmond Graves - The Shadow Fist

[Gold]

A dragon revived by witches and necromancers whom only sought to add to their ranks lost their lives to one of the dragons of old. Their life essence fueling his hatred for mankind and their foolish tinkering with dragon kind and their successors. Evumbran dragon of shadow and bone, leading those who have an insatiable taste for combat under his brothers banner. The divine five unaware of his revival and attempted enslavement through hex's and soul binding, he sets out to bless those he'd observed personally. Only to defend dragon kind for eons to come, and establish superiority to ensure something as catastrophic as divine restoration would never take place again. 

"Mankind tinkers with far too much, I've awakened hearing about a new race they've created. Toying with the tools of divine is sure to stir chaos."

Frozen in time in a catacomb in the deepest reaches of the therian mines, Dezmond awakens, no memory intact, receiving a quick debriefing on when and where he was. Introduced to the Fireblooded he knew that the debrief entailed servitude to his kind. Till death and beyond. Bearing the mark of the shadow serpent he sets out to move alone in the depths of the sewers and caverns searching for witches and any who dabble in biomancy. Ancestral remains were often disturbed, one of the many tasks given to him was to retrieve and preserve their remains. Keeping their deities from mortal hands was a task he had engraved in his mind, the very curse that gave life to his creator.

Easily agitated and a perfectionist to his craft, the drakenite doesn't take kindly to those who think ill of dragons and their kind. While witches and necromancers head the top of his list for enemies, Dragon Slayers hold a special place in his hatred for mankind. Seeking only to learn all he could from the elders in Theria and the Heads of the Fireblooded, wisdom and power were at the top of his goals. A very simple minded individual whom could be quiet oblivious and a bit too head strong at times. Any who were befriended by the brash drakenite were certain to have an ally who would join them in their endeavors no matter the task.

Often times he's said to simply appear from the shadows, having little to no presence when he enters a room. His pale skin sets him apart from most of his kind often called a calamity of albinism and occult. Riddled with dark lavender leylines across his body he brims with negative energy. Often misunderstood in just about any setting. More than often he will result to fighting rather than understanding, something he wishes someone would help him overcome.