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| − | =Biography=
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| − | <div align=center><div style="padding:10px 0px; background: #a3a3c2;font-size:16px;color:#ded5cf;font-family:Georgia;text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black">'''B I O G R A P H Y'''</div></div>
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| − | <div align=justify><div style="padding: 7px 4px;font-size:13px; color:#585350;font-family:Arial;">WIP</div>
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| − | Born to unknown parents Arabel was raised by a dragon that found her swathed and abandoned in old ruins.
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| − | Her father Vythothokent was a stern yet caring parent; indulgent in her playful Miqo’te nature yet stern in his desire to see her excel in arcane arts and knowledge. Thus at a young age he would play games with her that brought about her natural curiosity but always focus it in knowledge gathering. Thus, Arabel grew up with dusty tomes and long lectures she thought were for games and fun.
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| − | Around the age of 5 Arabel began questioning Vythothokent about why other dragonkin didn’t have children that looked like her and when her teeth and claws and scales would develop. It was then that she understood. She would never take to the skies and soar the realms as her father did, but she would do it a different way.
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| − | Arabel turning the age of 10 was like her father taking one breath of life. Time had hardly passed when all of the sudden she became graceful to behold. Her days giggling and laughing between his talons still occurred, but she also sat quietly for hours with her books at her nose nestled comfortably against him. She was young but her mind had expanded and a graceful aura appeared to fill in the edges.
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| − | He looked fondly at her curled up in their abode and asked what she learnt that day. She responded “Miqo’te aren’t like us.”
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| − | “Speak your mind,” Vythothokent responded in draconian.
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| − | She spoke of finally meeting miqo'te on the way to herb analysis swamp but when she greeted them they performed strange gesturing and fled. “They didn’t understand me, I think”, she replied in the other worldly tongue back.
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| − | “You are a dragon inside, but not outside, Arytissvor. They only see your shell.” She still did not understand.
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| − | “Arytissvor, it is time. You will learn the common tongue. When you are not among dragonkin speak only in this tongue. Our tongue is not for them. And take up a common name among them so you are treat you as you wish to be,” her father advised.
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| − | “Thank you father.” Arabel beamed at the thought of new adventures waiting in the common tongue for her.
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| − | As Arabel grew so did her thirst for healing magics and arcane knowledge. She wielded it effortlessly and before long her familiars Eos and Selene were awakened, depending on how she chose to spend her day.
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| − | Sometimes she flew with her father to distant lands exploring and looting caves and mountains, other times she travelled alone to practice the common tongue. Always though when practicing the common tongue she was dismissed for her childishness in vocabulary and looks. She’d throw a fit and run to her father after for comfort… after which he’d ask her what she learnt.
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| − | The years went on and in Arabel’s 15th year, Vythothokent went out hunting in old ruins for a fabled jewel that was said to be made from the purest aether. Upon exploration of the ancient place he met a sorcerer that was also in pursuit of this treasure. Driven by sheer conceit and cunning the sorcerer tried to trick Vythothokent into giving up the jewel. However, death by dragonfire was always possible so she wove an unbreakable curse on his daughter during her adventures in Eorza. The curse of Death’s Vengeance, or 1000 Deaths, should she fail to make it out alive to reverse it. She had met Arabel one day in the guise of an elderly man (you can never be too careful) and learnt of their adventures. As she watched Arabel she could see how naive the girl was. Intelligent, but naive. Beautiful as well, but the naivety was overpowering. From listening to her she learnt of Vythothokent’s next most intriguing possession to be had, which happened also to be her target. Too easy… she told herself.
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| − | At the ruins Vythothokent disposed of the sorcer quickly having known about her after Arabel’s regal replay of her encounter. “I have a lot to learn, father.” She frowned, upset at him and the danger she placed him in. “People never seem to align with what I expect.”
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| − | “Now you have something not from the tomes stuck on your nose and far more valuable”, Vythothokent replied.
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| − | Arabel never forgot that lesson and as she grew in intellect she knew she still needed more. More knowledge, more interaction with the common tongued people, more. Her thirst for more had her in caves and ruins as well as taverns and libraries searching for tomes, adventures, and answers to unanswerable questions like the chemical composition of aether.
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| − | Thus was life when Arabel barely noticed a rune on her back on her 16th name day and investigations revealed the curse. “What did you learn today?”, asked her father.
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| − | “Something that won’t be bothering me.” Arabel replied. She didn’t see it affecting her life in the least and refused to give it another thought. And where Arabel thought her father unwise to her curse, he was the first to notice.
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| − | It was time. On Arabel’s 18th name day she said goodbye to her father and began to make a life for herself.
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