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[Thank you RonsoStryder for i shall use this with my desc's for a long time.]
With very little similiarites to the Ageless Ones, the Kin of the Forgotten
are those whose wings resemble those of a magnificient dragon. Harboring the same shape and proportion, their wings are seered/scorched black due to an ancient curse that can never give way nor shatter from existence, it is bonded to it's host forever. Whenever twisted and enraged emotions churn within their body, their stark black wings emerge from their back with no bloodshed yet excruciating pain. Their hands become like those of their dragon ancestors, equipped with thrashing claws while their skin is not as tough or thicked skinned as a dragons. The eyes that once reflected light become flourished in darkness that consumes the very light that trails inside seeming as if it is lost forever but somewhere there resides a light within that lies in wait to be discovered.

History....

The Rauka Kindred have always worshipped the dragon as the ruler of the sky and lord of the lands. Their whole culture, traditions and events were centered around the dragon. Blessed with the ability of flight upon wings that were a replica of a dragon's the Rauka Kindred became reguarded as the Dragon's Kin or those closely related to the ancient creatures. Yet there was one day that changed their people forever.

Kindling a corrupt war within the lands, a great battle between erupted between the Rauka Kindred and a feathered, draconic like creature who preyed upon the very creature they emulated, the dragon. Though not as large as a dragon, the Xalthren was thought to be a descendent of a dragon but it's unusual feathered wings deterred it from such a lineage. With gnashing fangs and claws that could rip easily through the hide of a dragon, the Xalthren was a creature whose hide showed no vibrant pigment except it's hide was drapped in black.

Watching the vile beast slay a dragon mercilessly, the Rauka would not stand for such actions much longer. Taking up their swords, spears and girting themselves with armor, they seiged the beast but all was lost. Countless died at the claws of the Xalthren but as it seemed hopeless, a hero stepped forward.

From amidst the rubble of chaos, a young man stepped forward with sword in hand and armor girted to vanquish the beast. Lunging forward, the Xalthren was about to slice through his competitior until a sharp pain emmited from his chest. Halting from his rampage, the beast suddenly fell over as it bellowed a horrible death scream. For there within his chest, the blade of the warrior penetrated his heart to end the fury of the Xalthren.

Covered in blood that seemed to taint his dragon wings, the young man was about to depart until he heard a a faint laugh. Shocked, the young man turned around only to look upon a slowly fading Xalthren who smirked.

Though you have won, my curse will never cease!

Stabbing the Xalthren in disbelief, the young man departed and left the beast to slowly decompose underneath the unforgiving sun. It was later that he realized his beautiful dragon wings were slowly changing, they were losing their membrane and their structure were becoming unrecognizable. In agony, the young man screamed as his wings still showed the structure of a dragon's wings yet they now were covered in countless black feathers. His hands had transformed to those of a dragons while his eyes had lost all hues, they had become black as a moonless night. The curse of the Xalthren was real, yet was there no cure? This curse seemed to spread and affect all that had survived the tragedy yet because of this, the people were to establish a new identity as everything they knew had been demolished. Thus they became Kin of the Forgotten.