Height: Gryphon – 7 feet tall, 10 feet long
Anthro Gryphon – 6 feet 10 inches tall
Weight: Gryphon – 650 lbs
Anthro Gryphon – 325 lbs
Hair Color: Gold Feathers
Eye Color: Light Emerald
Skin Color: Light Brown
Personality: Joking. Ciyaje has spent his years around those who take life entirely too seriously. He looks for laughter when he can find it and tries to create it when he cannot. The first one to lighten up the mood of a bad situation.
Weakness: Fire magic, Lawful good allignment
Gryphon Form – Claws, beak. Other equipment in backpack.
Anthro Gryphon Form – A large hammer, with a curved blade on the back side of it.
Armor: Scale Mail
- Sharp Weapons - +1 CS to Fighting.
- Aerial Combat - +1 to Fighting against flying opponents. Must have some way of flying to use.
- Weaponsmith - Skilled with the creation of weapons. +1 CS to reasoning.
- Armorsmith - Skilled with the creation of armors. +1 CS to reasoning.
Fighting: Remarkable ( Incredible vs. Flying enemies)
Reasoning: Excellent ( Remarkable for weapon/armor smithing )
Running Speed: Gryphon – Good ( 40mph ),
Anthro Gryphon – Typical ( 20mph )
Flying Speed – 50 mph ( Maximum Encumbrance: 400lb Gryphon)
(~160lb Anthro )
Hit Points: 70
Spells / Special Abilities:
Description: Changes the winds in the area to make tracking easier. Those who can track people by smell get a +1 CS improvement to intuition checks involving scent. Only works outdoors.
Description: Causes all projectiles,with the exception of bullets, to do 1CS less damage. Lasts for 1 round on white, 2 on green, 3 on yellow. On a red, this also negates all non-100 critical hit bonus damage.
Description: Summons a small fae-like creature to you. This creature can fly and can be used to scout out areas ahead and report back. It also has enough control over wind to get an item for the caster provided the item is no more then two miles away and weighs no more then 10lb. Only the caster can understand the Sylph, and it will only take orders from the caster. If attacked the creature has Excellent agility to defend itself. If it is struck by an attack or enters an anti-magic area the creature is unsummoned. This creature can only be summoned once every 12 hours. The creature lasts for 1 hour times the maximum Circle of the caster, unless dismissed.
Gust of Wind
Description: Opponent rolls agility. If caster succeeds this attack does psyche wind damage. If the caster's roll was yellow or higher, it also knocks the target into knockdown.
Ciyaje was barely ten years of age when he was taken from his Oasis in the Far Desert. During his coming of age ceremony, he was bound to an elemental, to help him when he needed it. The morning after the celebration he woke to the chaos that often follows such peaceful exuberance.
His mother had been one of the few remaining Changelings on their planet. As with most extraordinary things, there were always those who sought to benefit from that power for nothing. This world was no different, but the invaders had been. She led the retreat, becoming her most monsterous form to scare the aliens back while others fled.
His father, a proud hunter for the oasis, was every bit the model Gryphon. He was a predator, but he had been willing to take on the responsibilities of finding resources where no others could. Bringing in horses in the dead of winter, finding new places to locate fruits and various prey, warding off strangers who seemed hostile. Despite all that, he was the first captured.
Ciyaje watched from the canopy of trees as they hearded everyone he had known in to cages. The shadows popped to life in the shape of these oddly padded men. Lights shone from their helmets and shoulders and it looked as if they had faces underneath their faces. Circular gills and glass eyes set in odd shaped faces. But.. he had his Sylph.
Despite the elemental's warnings, Ciyaje gave himself over to the strangers. Where else was he supposed to go? Everyone he learned a anything from was going, so.. so was he.
Come to find out, the strangers were slave traders with very long reach. He had been sold after his parents. Mostly, because he and all of the others begged for it to be so. Some with their actions, some with their bodies, some with their blood. There was quarter given the traders because once the initial capture had been complete, they were cleaned. Then they were healed, and kept in cells of ten rather than cells of one, stacked atop each other, but no mistakes could be made. The moment any heard of any abuse of the youth, they would respond to an emergency at the holding cells. All the prisoners would be free, and the guards were in the cages. They would get free, but simply wait to be captured again. But only when Ciyaje was threatened.
Ciyaje got to see his Mother and Father traded to some wealthy land owner. He seemed to have more interest in studying the two of them than beating them, and once his father actually spoke they were hurried off without waiting for a receipt. He didn't know what world they were off to. He didn't know what was in store for him, but he had Sylph.
Ciyaje was put in to training the next day, loaned to a blacksmith who called in a favor to the guild. In no small part because he could not only carry weight as a gryphon, but he was roughly as tall as the blacksmith himself when he shifted in to his more humanoid anthro body. At that time he had been untapped potential, but over the course of the next ten years, the heat of the forge and ringing of metal on and steel became barely a passing thought to him. He became strength, slow moving and methodical. Precise and unyielding. Through the pains he endured and mistakes he made, he became every bit as good as his instructor. At 20 he was more prepared for the trade than most twice his age. But it was all he knew. He didn't have friends, other than Sylph. He didn't have his parents, his friends were surely all sold or dead and he wasn't sure of much other than how to work with his hammer and sculpting super-dense metals in to protection. He had, of course, been trained just as thuroughly to craft a number of spears, spearheads, axes, poleaxes, various swords and styles of staves, but his passion was armor.
Once he returned back to the slaver's guild, he was sold to a very shrewd man. From a desert, judging by his clothes, the stout merchant had beady little eyes and a smile that belonged to a jackal. He rubbed his hands together too much. Sylph thought he looked like a stubby cactus cluster, worried and looking for it's spikes that fell out. There had been.. angry haggling happening near his room, until he laughed. He laughed and it resonated. The stubby, needleless cactus man paid the price, and got the keys to the gryphon's collar. Which he didn't take off. That would be the only direction he would know for some time. The leash, the collar, and the whip.
From his second decade on, it seemed, there was confusion after confusion. The little cactus didn't seem to be good at much of anything, but when he tried to help he would be beaten back roughly with whatever was in arm's reach. He attributed his quick reflexes to this, as much as his avian genetics. They would be resting in the middle of nowhere, all of a sudden he would get kicked awake at who knew what hour and forced to fly over the scorching sands. He didn't mind the heat, or the endurance challenge placed on him, but he couldn't figure out why he would be struck at random. He had to cover his beak more than once, to take a skillet to the wing rather than break his beak, should his lionish paws were too slow to react.
Ciyaje became more withdrawn during these times. Rather than the helpful understudy he was treated as if he was always in the way, but was never close when he should have been. In two years time, Ciyaje was subcontracted to this man's associates. Much less than reputable people. All horrible in their own ways. Ways they were more than happy to inform him of in no uncertain terms. Sylph not only grew with the Gryphon, but was able to advise and help him after the worst of the nights. When his next breath was cursed because it meant he had to go on living another day. The indignation, and pain, and rage, all beaten down every time any made him lash out. The angry cactus was no threat. But the two strongmen were, with their burning prods and metal knuckles. He learned early not to kill one of them, or both, because his master would go out of his way to find ones meaner, and bigger, every time.
After years of this treatment, Ciyaje had been sculpted in to something more resembling a beast. His true form, the gryphon, was cautious instead of proud. His movements hesitated as if expecting to step on a landmine at every paw and talon. His hybrid form was massive. Muscles carved out of stone, eyes that were angry but submissive, A sort of mindlessness to his movements be they tender or savage.
Ciyaje's only joy in life became his opportunity to work the forge. Sylph would help him as he could, the Air elemental always attempting to keep the Gryphon's spirits high when he could be with him.
Ciyaje was awaiting te day he'd been waiting for most of his memorable life. Little Cactus was retiring. It was their second day at market, and Mor`Nai found him. The island's strong man purchased him and together they left for an unknown future, but already one he was excited for. Mor was big, but the man was insanely gentle. Still uncertain of when he would get hit, or what he was expected to do, he was slow to dive in to the island life. But once he did, he did so fully.
From occasionally helping at the chocobo farm to takinng a team of adventurers to the origin of the chaos waves, Ciyaje has made friends and meemories all over the island over the course of his five year stay. He works for Faunalyn Moonflower, making custom and durable armor for her shop, which she has all but turned over to him and a handful of others. His love interest Corbin, his best friend Sylph, and his two 'masters' Mor and Shai all help the gryphon to discover more and more of that happy youth he had been in the Oasis.