Information

Xanthows has a minion!

Doodle the Rakin

Xanthows
Legacy Name: Xanthows

The

Twilight Warador
Owner:

OtakuOokami

Age: 15 years, 1 month, 2 weeks

Born: March 21st, 2009

Adopted: 13 years, 9 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: July 31st, 2010

Statistics

Level: 10
Strength: 25
Defense: 25
Speed: 10
Health: 23
HP: 23/23
Intelligence: 5
Books Read: 5
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Candy Sorter

Personal Stats:
Class: Artist/Living Doll
Personality: Quiet, Introverted, Kind, Artistic, Slightly Emo
Strength: Can bring any visual representation of a living thing he creates to life
Weakness: Totally Computer Illiterate, Fire
Theme Song: "Guile's Theme", Street Fighter II
Video: "No Girl's Toy" from Raggedy Ann and Andy a Musical Adventure, Directed by Richard Williams
Art: Overlay by OtakuOokami, Something OtakuOokami drew

Think what you want, I never asked to be a doll. I would have been happy living a normal life, herding mopsheep and doing a painting here or a sculpture there on the side...but my life wasn't exactly normal from the beginning. I was born over 1,000 years ago in the kingdom of Hrithenthorn, which is now part of Veta. I was a normal, flesh and blood person born of normal, flesh and blood parents...well, normal except for the fact that I was born an extraordinarily talented artist with the ability to bring any creature I drew, or painted, or sculpted, or created through any visual art or craft to life. All of that wasn't even apparent right away.

One day, when I was just a babe, no more than a year old, my mother saw me drawing with a piece of charcoal from the hearth all over the wall. She pulled me away, only to find a drawing of her. It wasn't exact, not like she was looking into a mirror, but it was certainly far beyond a what a child of one usually scribbles. As I grew, so did my talent and when I was four, that's when my other gift reared its head.

The village potter was giving away samples of colorful clay to all of the children that day. You may think that's nothing unusual, but in those days clay was something that only tradesmen and craftsmen used. If children wanted to mold something, they molded it from plain old mud. I molded my clay into the shape of a small creature with tiny wings and six legs that looked like some kind of demented horse-deer thing. I was quite fond of it, and wished with all my heart it would become real. I focused hard on that thought, seeing it moving about vividly in my mind...and then...it actually happened. My horse-deer came to life and started prancing around, following me around.

I showed everyone. Some people were scared, others amazed. I tried it with a drawing next, then I made a chair of bound sticks and tried to make it come to life...but it did nothing. The dog of straw I made did, though...that's when my parents came along and made me stop. When I asked why, they explained that someone very bad may see and take me away. I didn't understand, but one day I would...all too well.

As time passed, I learned to sew and knit from my mother and my father taught me how to carve wood and build things. I also learned how to work metal and make jewelry from the town smith. I learned quickly and was always making beautiful things. I rarely used my powers now...except to cheer up the occasional lonely child or just to see what I made move about if only for a short time. I could make the creature turn back to nothing more than a toy or a carving now, even if it made me a little sad undoing the life that I'd given it. When I was 17...that's when the King finally heard of my abilities.

The King of Hrithenthorn was a cruel and power-hungry tyrant. What people today would call a psycho. He constantly made war on the surrounding kingdoms, trying to conquer them and steal their riches, and would have our kingdom's best sorcerers and mages aid him in his quest...willingly or by force. He sent his men to my home and tried to recruit me. When I refused, they beat me and slapped me in irons, then dragged me to the castle where the king forced me to create deadly monsters for him to use in his campaigns. I hated it. I wanted out. I couldn't refuse or the King would have my hands severed. I couldn't loose my hands. A leg, sure. My face, I never was fond of gaping at myself in a looking glass anyway. But my hands...I could never live without them. To loose them would be a fate worse than death...so I served his Royal Greediness. Even as I did, though, I was planning my escape.

I had one friend in that terrible place, a Keeto Dark Mage by the name of Rinnias_Slade. He was much older than I and had a wife and three children...whom the King would threaten every time Rinnias even looked like he was going to protest. Over the two years I was there, Rinnias and I became the best of friends, bolstering each other's spirits when we were down...but I never let him or anyone else in on my escape plan. No, it was that dirty spy Andre, loyal to the King as a flea-bitten dog to anyone willing to throw him a scrap of meat, who learned of my plan. He told the King. I still hate his guts and I hope he's rotting in Hell.

On the night I was to escape, everything seemed to be going according to plan. I slipped out through the tunnel I'd made and was running for the woods when a group of the King's solders ambushed me. I was caught and dragged to the castle dungeon, into a strange room with an open stone door on the far end and a large doll, my exact height, in the center of a magic circle. My friend, Rinnias, stood beside the circle with a look of dread and misery on his face, his ears drooping at the sides of his head. The spy, Andre, was standing by the King's side with a smug grin on his disgusting face, gloating about my capture as the King looked down on me with a tiny, evil smirk and ordered the guards to toss me into the center of the circle with the doll.

I landed hard, unable to move with the shackles around my hands and feet as Rinnias tried to explain to the King that "the process" wasn't meant to be used on mortal souls and tried to convince him to let me go. That it was going too far to put a person's soul into a doll as punishment. He pleaded with the King, but the fat toad had the guards drag his five-year-old daughter forward and put a knife to her throat, threatening that if what he ordered wasn't done, her throat would be slit and her body force-fed to him and his wife for supper. Rinnias looked me in the eyes, and I nodded for him to do it. I knew it would bring him more pain to loose his daughter than I'd feel being put into that doll.

The ritual was painful. Having your soul ripped from your body and bound to another is the worst feeling in the universe, like you're being turned inside-out and outside-in over and over again while being torn apart by rabid beasts and stung by bees and being beaten in the jewels with a spiked mace all at once!! When the pain finally ended, I had the "pleasure" of having to watch that slimy snot otter Andre being put in my body before being thrown into the catacombs so he could use my power for the King. Then, I was locked away there by Rinnias, who was overcome with grief and fatigue by then, with a Blood Seal enchantment. Basically, it's a magical seal that can only be broken by the caster or a direct descendant of the caster.

I was stuck there in those catacombs for 1,000 years. It was dank and dirty and horrible...and I was all alone. Not to mention the hands of my new doll body were nothing but barely usable mittens. I could draw a crude animal here and there with a bit of limestone on the wall, but nothing half as good as I could with a pair of actual hands. My stuffing deteriorated and molded, my stitches degraded and popped in places...at least the fabric this body was made of never became worn or rotted. The only real good news is that my power is bound to my soul, not my body as the King had thought, so he was left with that useless brown-noser in my useless body. He couldn't even undo my seal, since he had apparently executed Rinnias after I was sealed and banished his family from the kingdom. I believe the phrase, "Smooth move, Exlax," would apply here.

An entire millennium...and then, the seal was broken by Isaac_Slade, Rinnias' descendant! He looks a lot like him too...aside from the scars and perpetual scowl. He and the odd party of adventurers he was with took me away from the ruins of the castle to their home. I was fixed up, re-stuffed and re-sewn (kind of uncomfortable, but not that bad compared to that transfer ritual), and they even fixed my hands...so that I have five fingers again!! I can finally draw like I'm supposed to...and oddly enough I've gotten a little better. The only thing is...I'm still a freaking doll. A living doll. In a confusing modern world where women wear pants, men are allowed to cry, and there are these magical things called "kom-pyou-ters" that everyone knows how to freaking work but me and they're used for absolutely everything!! Lucky me.