Good for gold

Duncan William Chevalier can from a Noble blood line and a long history of knights that had proudly served the King for generations upon generations. He was the 8th knight of that bloodline, a destiny bestowed upon him by his Mother, Ellyane, who had wanted him so bad to be like his grandfathers stretching back to the first Chevalier that served under the crown.

He hadn’t been one for very long. He was still young– only about 65 years old, which for an elf was practically a child. He had long, dyed blond hair, which he touched up here and there but he often had his dark roots grown in, braided back in a tight French braid under his helmet. His armor was an off gold color, polished nicely. It wasn’t actually gold, but the metal looked pretty and was light weight but still durable enough to take hits– that’s what the elfs favored with it. His mother told him how nice it complimented his dark skin– she liked to tell him that he was handsome and he’d find a beautiful wife after he became established and have sons of his own. The idea wasn’t for him, he didn’t want to marry and he barely could stand being a knight.

He had been given a mission– to slay a dragon; which to him was something he didn’t think you should send a amateur knight after, but he accepted he mission either way and started his journey to the volcano where the monster was said to live. It was a dangerous journey that took a near month, but he did finally make it to the mountain range. He got off his horse, taking a slow, deep breath before licking over his lips and pushing some loose hairs out of his face. He held his helmet in his hands, looking up at the mountains and swallowing hard.

He was almost done. He just had to kill the dragon and go home….

He was probably going to die.

The thought had him groaning as he put his helmet on. If he could help it, it wouldn’t try to fight the thing, that would be awfully stupid. So, he continued on until he found the entrance to the dragon’s cavern, which was clawed and burned. He left his horse near some water, kissing her head and telling her to be safe, petting at her mane and scratching behind her ears. He headed in, looking around to find the dragons hoard of gold… only to find crystals.

Crystals, stones, rocks…

He pulled off his helmet and looked around, brows knit as he looked around and started to pick up the things to look at him, frowning some as he took out a polishing rag and scrubbed it until it shined.

“How… quaint.” He said to himself, blue eyes looking over the stone, licking his lips.

King of demons, hell, and all evil

He had not been king for very long– only a handful of decades since the execution of the previous king by his own hand– own sword. It was the way of things in the land of evil incarnate and he was a product of his raising and as such he was far more dangerous than his predecessor. He was the new reigning king of hell and he would remain such until someone could defeat him and take his head as their prize. Many had tried, but none as succeeded.

He was a strong demon. Smart and cunning, magic aplenty, with abilities that no full breed before him had possessed!– but he wasn’t a full breed like some had believed. He was the product of taboo affections between the demon Malik and the Witch Ellyane, but hay family secret was kept from the public. Duncan was a good king– a good king to bring order to the lands of chaos.

The first thirty years had brought the wars to an end, separated the lands and put the right politicians in to positions that would lead to a more unified hell.

After the organization was set, he began to explore, leaving his most trusted advisor to rule in his place while he explored the human world with his own guard of half breeds to keep him company as he explored different parts of the human realm. He was in Florida. A town called Jupiter where performers were said to be.