Rastos
(#48039348)
Level 25 Skydancer
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Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.88 m
Wingspan
6.66 m
Weight
709.63 kg
Genetics
Stonewash
Python
Python
Maroon
Striation
Striation
Sapphire
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Skydancer
Max Level
STR
133
AGI
10
DEF
5
QCK
32
INT
5
VIT
20
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
Rastos
Saint of Comedy and Humor
“Bring your cheering and your laughter, bloom beneath the light of attention and give birth to joy!”
There are many questions, those without answers and those with many. Perhaps the questions you ask are with answers you don’t seek. Or maybe they are the answers you need the most, but do not realize.
From before the ending, I have always wondered, what was to be done in life?
Why do we suffer, what can we do?
Why are you sad?
I was young, perhaps too naïve to realize the problems we were going through. No adults would ever really lend their suffering to a hatchling of my age.
So I stopped questioning and waited.
Seasons past and the suffering of many grew, I was helpless to do anything and what little I could do was entertain the younger ones who were constantly tired. I found warmth in bringing smiles to the hatchlings.
My magic yearned to help them, but it could only cry and make me ache as I watched the crowd dwindled everyday.
On the day of silence, the magic in me was still and despondent. Hatchlings were frozen from where they slept or played.
Frozen in time and the adults gone.
Distant mourning rode on the wind and I sat trapped in a shell of stone. Protected by magic.
Perhaps centuries had passed as I watched; encased. Hatchlings forever playing begin to crumble, succumbing to decay.
Magic boiling, I could not weep or release the agony.
I could feel the cracks crawling up my skin. Starting from my chest it grew every night, but I knew it wasn’t freedom.
Life was not fair, from this crumbling village, scattered with preserved hatchlings, abandoned by adults, only I remained now.
Not I though.
The I who once was.. died to the agony of hope’s betrayal, left in his place is only now an echo.
Beneath the Echo’s claws laid a crumbled statue of a prepubescent Skydancer. Eyes which glowed a spiritually blue dimmed ever so slowly before the crumbled stone was whisked away by the howling wind.
City of the Broken was left behind, covered by a fog of gloom and hidden away by the echo whose name was remembered as Rastos.
”In place of the joy my host once gave, I continue his actions by spreading cheer in his memory.”
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Plant stocks are currently depleted.
Exalting Rastos to the service of the Icewarden will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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