[ This? This is a role that G'raha is more than comfortable playing. Some form of near-immortal mage, making a pilgrimage to visit a mighty dragon warrior that had been a friend, once, before the actions of a greedy few twisted the world and earned the dragon's ire. But now, with things restored, a rekindling of what was lost is in order.
There are quite a few parallels between this 'role' and G'raha's past, and that makes it all the more easy for him to disappear into it. It helps, of course, that the makeup and wardrobe team have done him up as he appeared under another moniker: heavy black robes with ornate gold detailing, with red and white draped over it; supple leather sandals and an arm piece meant to help him when channeling magic; a staff that hummed with untapped magic and had the correct weight in his grasp; his auburn hair tipped in a blue-tinged white; and... the blue crystal that made up most of his neck and sliced across the left side of his face like a scar, while also seeming to replace his entire right arm. The clothing isn't pristine, after his journey across the sets, with a handful of small fruit from the Siren's cove in a small pouch at his side, and a single prismatic bloom from the Fairy forest tucked there as well.
Finally stepping foot into the lair, G'raha leans heavily against his staff, the weight of a century of dedication to a cause settling into his short frame. ]
There you are, my friend. [ He smiles, admiring the dragon warrior from a distance for the time being. ] How do you fare?
another lord of the wings with a side of slow burn?
There are quite a few parallels between this 'role' and G'raha's past, and that makes it all the more easy for him to disappear into it. It helps, of course, that the makeup and wardrobe team have done him up as he appeared under another moniker: heavy black robes with ornate gold detailing, with red and white draped over it; supple leather sandals and an arm piece meant to help him when channeling magic; a staff that hummed with untapped magic and had the correct weight in his grasp; his auburn hair tipped in a blue-tinged white; and... the blue crystal that made up most of his neck and sliced across the left side of his face like a scar, while also seeming to replace his entire right arm. The clothing isn't pristine, after his journey across the sets, with a handful of small fruit from the Siren's cove in a small pouch at his side, and a single prismatic bloom from the Fairy forest tucked there as well.
Finally stepping foot into the lair, G'raha leans heavily against his staff, the weight of a century of dedication to a cause settling into his short frame. ]
There you are, my friend. [ He smiles, admiring the dragon warrior from a distance for the time being. ] How do you fare?