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Description
My second project in digital painting was to do a movie poster. So I searched through some old sketches and found one on a role-play character I had. Originally the sketch was intended for a red dragon in a DnD campaign but then "she" became a "he" and migrated to DragonHame Role-play (hame.proboards.com). The dragon remained somewhat the same. Going from a red to a 'flame' dragon. They kept the same class though. Bard.

The Japanese on the right says "He felt the lure of adventure." and on the bottom the romanji is Orura which is Auror... if pronounced in Japanese.

If I had to pick someone to voice Aurorthavan, it'd be Ken Watanabe

Here's his history
---------------------------
Hatched on the outskirts of a volcano, Aurorthavan was one of six in his clutch. Most of his siblings were female save for one. At hatching, it is natural for all males within a clutch to fight each other for dominance. He easily overcame his brother using his remaining egg-horn. Till this day, he still retains his egg-horn for he allowed it to harden over time. As he grew up, Aurorthavan hunted across the lava-fields on unsuspecting prey with his sisters. They were alone, as most flame dragon clutches are, since the parents do not look after their young. When Aurorthavan grew into a young adult and his wings exploded open from their casings, he left his sisters to find a home of his own. Attracted by the climates of the south, he flew over many mountains until his long journey brought him to the Neri. His cavern held many minerals within the walls. It was perfect, plenty of gems to keep his hide shining and hard, while plenty of game lived far below. However, he unknowingly nested high above a small dwarven mining outpost that fed its findings to the city of Lemat.

One night, while resting deep within the caverns of his den, he heard an odd muffled tapping. Slipping farther into the darkness, he followed the sound till he came to a wall that vibrated with the tapping. Curious, he banged on his side of the wall which caused the tapping to stop. Voices with strong accents threw up exclamations and began to worry to each other. However, Aurorthavan could not understand a word they said; it was one of the many languages he did not speak. With curiosity getting the best of him, he took in a deep breath and released a stream of flames that slowly heated up the rock. Once red, he head butted the vulnerable rock, the force of his weight bringing him into the room. Scattered everywhere, many getting up from being thrown back on their asses, were dwarves. Several shook their fists, others took up their weapons. Despite being outnumbered, the flame dragon stood his ground, fanning out his wings to make himself appear larger. Suddenly, one of the dwarves fell over and face planted into the ground with an arrow sticking out of his back. All the dwarves drew up startled gasps and looked into the darkness behind them. At least twenty goblins stood their ground with crude arrows pointed in the dwarves' direction. Without thinking, Aurorthavan jumped in front of the group of dwarves, taking a shower of arrows. However, the crude arrows clattered harmlessly against his tough hide and Aurorthavan drew in another deep breath, releasing it upon the unsuspecting goblins. The rest, who did not meet a melting death, soon found Aurorthavan's fangs piercing them. Uncertain of what to do, the dwarves stood back, weapons lowered at their sides. Lead by the burliest looking dwarf, they tried to communicate with Aurorthavan, having little to no luck. However, one dwarf stepped up, a little unsure of him self. In broken Sylvan he spoke, "Thank thee. Thou saved us. We grateful. Please do not hurt." Aurorthavan understood that language! He bobbed his head, replying, "What are you?" The dwarf who spoke Sylvan looked taken aback and the other dwarves questioned him. He meekly replied in his own language, getting small laughs out of a few of the men there. "We dwarves," replied the dwarf.

From that point on, the two species mingled with each other, though the dwarves often left the dragon alone in his den. However, curious of the tinking far in the caverns, the dragon would travel deeper through the dwarven tunnels, often digging them out so he could fit through them. There he would watch the dwarves from a safe distance, picking up on their language slowly. The Sylvan speaking dwarf now often accompanied the digging parties near the dragon's den, answering the dragon's questions of who and what dwarves were or of whatever the dragon threw at him. Aurorthavan came to know the dwarf as Yaln Thundercall who used to tame creatures called 'horses' back in his old den before he was enlisted into the digging party. Aurorthavan slowly grew to enjoy the dwarf's company, following him wherever he went.

One day, Yaln approached Aurorthavan in his own den. Startled by this new motion, the dragon growled softly at the hominid. Despite the threat, Yaln did not back down, instead he got down on his knees and bowed before the flame dragon, asking for his help. Goblins were attacking the outpost where Yaln came from and they could barely hold off the invasion. Soon the goblins would over take them and charge forward to the next outpost before reaching Lemat. Aurorthavan quietly replied no. It was not his habit to meddle in the affairs of other creatures. Shaking to hold off his despair, Yaln begged further, offering anything the dragon would have liked. With the promise of a steady supply of gems, Aurorthavan helped the outpost rid itself of the goblin menace.

Since that time, he spent more and more time with the dwarves who christened him with a dwarven name, weapon, and armor for his human form. Slowly he learned more of their language and of the crude garbling language of Common one of the dwarves had first spoken before. Helping the dwarves and receiving pay drew him more and more out of his caves until he ventured far from home often on urgent message runs.

After spending decades with the dwarves, his friend, Yaln, died of old age. Feeling sadness for the first time unsettled the dragon and sent him into a confused rage. He left his home, leaving his life behind and started anew as a mercenary and bard to travel across the world. Though… he would return in a heart beat if his dwarven brothers called for him.

Description
My second project in digital painting was to do a movie poster. So I searched through some old sketches and found one on a role-play character I had. Originally the sketch was intended for a red dragon in a DnD campaign but then "she" became a "he" and migrated to DragonHame Role-play (hame.proboards.com). The dragon remained somewhat the same. Going from a red to a 'flame' dragon. They kept the same class though. Bard.

The Japanese on the right says "He felt the lure of adventure." and on the bottom the romanji is Orura which is Auror... if pronounced in Japanese.

If I had to pick someone to voice Aurorthavan, it'd be Ken Watanabe

Here's his history
---------------------------
Hatched on the outskirts of a volcano, Aurorthavan was one of six in his clutch. Most of his siblings were female save for one. At hatching, it is natural for all males within a clutch to fight each other for dominance. He easily overcame his brother using his remaining egg-horn. Till this day, he still retains his egg-horn for he allowed it to harden over time. As he grew up, Aurorthavan hunted across the lava-fields on unsuspecting prey with his sisters. They were alone, as most flame dragon clutches are, since the parents do not look after their young. When Aurorthavan grew into a young adult and his wings exploded open from their casings, he left his sisters to find a home of his own. Attracted by the climates of the south, he flew over many mountains until his long journey brought him to the Neri. His cavern held many minerals within the walls. It was perfect, plenty of gems to keep his hide shining and hard, while plenty of game lived far below. However, he unknowingly nested high above a small dwarven mining outpost that fed its findings to the city of Lemat.

One night, while resting deep within the caverns of his den, he heard an odd muffled tapping. Slipping farther into the darkness, he followed the sound till he came to a wall that vibrated with the tapping. Curious, he banged on his side of the wall which caused the tapping to stop. Voices with strong accents threw up exclamations and began to worry to each other. However, Aurorthavan could not understand a word they said; it was one of the many languages he did not speak. With curiosity getting the best of him, he took in a deep breath and released a stream of flames that slowly heated up the rock. Once red, he head butted the vulnerable rock, the force of his weight bringing him into the room. Scattered everywhere, many getting up from being thrown back on their asses, were dwarves. Several shook their fists, others took up their weapons. Despite being outnumbered, the flame dragon stood his ground, fanning out his wings to make himself appear larger. Suddenly, one of the dwarves fell over and face planted into the ground with an arrow sticking out of his back. All the dwarves drew up startled gasps and looked into the darkness behind them. At least twenty goblins stood their ground with crude arrows pointed in the dwarves' direction. Without thinking, Aurorthavan jumped in front of the group of dwarves, taking a shower of arrows. However, the crude arrows clattered harmlessly against his tough hide and Aurorthavan drew in another deep breath, releasing it upon the unsuspecting goblins. The rest, who did not meet a melting death, soon found Aurorthavan's fangs piercing them. Uncertain of what to do, the dwarves stood back, weapons lowered at their sides. Lead by the burliest looking dwarf, they tried to communicate with Aurorthavan, having little to no luck. However, one dwarf stepped up, a little unsure of him self. In broken Sylvan he spoke, "Thank thee. Thou saved us. We grateful. Please do not hurt." Aurorthavan understood that language! He bobbed his head, replying, "What are you?" The dwarf who spoke Sylvan looked taken aback and the other dwarves questioned him. He meekly replied in his own language, getting small laughs out of a few of the men there. "We dwarves," replied the dwarf.

From that point on, the two species mingled with each other, though the dwarves often left the dragon alone in his den. However, curious of the tinking far in the caverns, the dragon would travel deeper through the dwarven tunnels, often digging them out so he could fit through them. There he would watch the dwarves from a safe distance, picking up on their language slowly. The Sylvan speaking dwarf now often accompanied the digging parties near the dragon's den, answering the dragon's questions of who and what dwarves were or of whatever the dragon threw at him. Aurorthavan came to know the dwarf as Yaln Thundercall who used to tame creatures called 'horses' back in his old den before he was enlisted into the digging party. Aurorthavan slowly grew to enjoy the dwarf's company, following him wherever he went.

One day, Yaln approached Aurorthavan in his own den. Startled by this new motion, the dragon growled softly at the hominid. Despite the threat, Yaln did not back down, instead he got down on his knees and bowed before the flame dragon, asking for his help. Goblins were attacking the outpost where Yaln came from and they could barely hold off the invasion. Soon the goblins would over take them and charge forward to the next outpost before reaching Lemat. Aurorthavan quietly replied no. It was not his habit to meddle in the affairs of other creatures. Shaking to hold off his despair, Yaln begged further, offering anything the dragon would have liked. With the promise of a steady supply of gems, Aurorthavan helped the outpost rid itself of the goblin menace.

Since that time, he spent more and more time with the dwarves who christened him with a dwarven name, weapon, and armor for his human form. Slowly he learned more of their language and of the crude garbling language of Common one of the dwarves had first spoken before. Helping the dwarves and receiving pay drew him more and more out of his caves until he ventured far from home often on urgent message runs.

After spending decades with the dwarves, his friend, Yaln, died of old age. Feeling sadness for the first time unsettled the dragon and sent him into a confused rage. He left his home, leaving his life behind and started anew as a mercenary and bard to travel across the world. Though… he would return in a heart beat if his dwarven brothers called for him.