Snarlie

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Stay-at-Home Dad of the Isles Baker and Chef to the Arcanist's Followers Caretaker and Friend of the Visionaries The Terrible Voice of Devastation Your Last Pick for Karaoke

Timid Comforting Generous Goofy Peaceful

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Snarlie is that guy.

The guy who's always baking cookies in the kitchen. The guy who stands behind the battle lines and cheers everyone on with s'mores during a dom battle. The guy who's goofy and as soft as a marshmallow and is popular among even the more enthusiastically-challenged dragons because it's funny when he invites the pirates over for a picnic.

Not to be left without supervision.

Snarlie was born into a famous lair known for its singers. From the moment he was hatched, his parents knew he would be perfect. His colours, his magic, the way his eyes glowed - there was no way this child could turn into an explosion-savvy abomination of magic! He was flawless!

Well, he had one flaw: the poor hatchling couldn't sing. His parents tried to teach him. They really did, but nothing worked. The kid had a deep baritone you'd mistake for a starving dinosaur. He butchered the simplest tunes, turning "Twinkle Twinkle Little Arcanist" into something that might adhere to the soundtrack of a horror movie.



Nevertheless, that didn't stop his parents. They raised him, ignorant of the fact that he was tone deaf and would fulfill the role of a fire alarm better than that of an opera singer (Yes, there's a difference). Finally, when he was of age, they took their pride and joy to the biggest theatre in all of Sorneith, so the entire world could see their precious perform.

Snarlie, for his part, was a little worried. He wholeheartedly believed what his parents told him - that he was the best singer to have ever been born, and that the world would love him. But still, something felt off. It might've been the giggles from the other hatchlings whenever he started warbling to the latest hit, or the pitying looks from the other adults.

Well, whatever it was, it wasn't going to stop the show from going on. Snarlie knew he had to make his parents proud, and proud - no, stunned - he was going to make them. The eyes of thousands of dragons pierced him as he strode up the steps towards the stage, as the spotlight centred on him. He took a deep breath as flashbacks of everything his parents had ever taught him flashed through his mind. A warmth flooded his chest. He opened his mouth and -
What happened next sounded like a Wartoad getting a Heimlich maneuver.

Half the audience went deaf. The other half screamed. Then there were the Fae dragons, who were tone-deaf and couldn't have told the differences between an opera singer and a squeaky rubber duck.

It was pandemonium. As the Fae clapped politely, the other dragons shrieked and ran for the exits. The dragons in charge of the program desperately tried to have the audience evacuate in a calm and orderly manner, but were trampled by a screaming mob. Snarlie's own parents couldn't figure out what had happened and hightailed out of there, wondering if someone had accidentally set off the fire alarm. Within a few minutes, no one was left but the Fae and Snarlie's gradually fading voice.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Snarlie wasn't just embarrassed, he was hurt. His parents had loved him so much that they failed to tell him the truth - that he wasn't a great singer at all. Ashamed of even daring to approach the stage despite his lack of talent, Snarlie snuck away out of the theatre, stowed away on a merchant ship at the port, and set sail for some place - any place, that would not recognize him.

The merchant ship had some very expensive cargo. That should've been his first clue. Unfortunately, by the time Snarlie realized that this very ship may or may not be a pirate ship, they were already far out at sea. He hid the best he could under a pile of precious jewels and coins, which did not make a good impression when one of the crew members uncovered a barrel and found him snuggling with diamonds.

Snarlie was pulled onto deck and prepped for trial. It was a very nice ship, bought all nice and legal with goods nice and illegal. Spiral dragons infested the skies, making for a very poor escape route. There was only one way Snarlie could go, and that was down.
In retrospect, he wondered if diving off the ship into monster-infested waters had been a good move on his part.

Snarlie was lucky for a dragon that couldn't swim. He was swallowed by a fish, which was eaten by a bigger fish, which was in turned snapped up by an even bigger fish, and so on, until he ended up inside multiple stomachs, the biggest one belonging to that of a space kraken. This space kraken would've proven a formidable foe for any self-respecting dragon in ten out of eleven flights, but unfortunately, it wounded up in a port near the Observatory, in full view of several Arcanites.

That was a very, very bad idea.

Without going into further detail, simply let it be known that the pack of dragons from the Observatory, led by a spirited Ridgeback named Verronica, had very nice barbecued seafood for dinner. After cutting away most of the monster and setting shish-kebabs on the grill, Verronica found a conspicuous tail poking out of the kraken's stomach, in which there was a fish, and then another fish, and another.

Twenty dissections later, the Arcanites happened upon a pink magic bubble, in the middle of which Snarlie was curled up. After determining that he was not the kraken's spawn (much to their disappointment), the Arcanites decided to take the poor then-Mirror back to the Observatory and clean him up from his journey.

It was the first time Snarlie had been received with such welcome by dragons who were not his parents. Verronica took care of his wounds and fed him. But even as Snarlie nestled down in a soft new bed, he couldn't quite sleep. He wanted to return this gift of kindness. Thus, he asked for directions to the kitchens, and set to work.



The results were delicious. The researchers' efficiency went up by 200%! This was too great of a talent (and snack) to pass up. Coincidentally, Verronica, who had only recently been changed into a Ridgeback (a mistake) was looking to start a clan, and for some reason, she found Snarlie charming. As Snarlie prepared to leave the Observatory, she flew down to him and asked if he would like to follow her.

It is unknown why Snarlie agreed. He was a loner, barely even a fighter. He had no business joining another clan. Perhaps he agreed because he wanted a home. Perhaps he agreed because he had nowhere to go. Perhaps he wanted to repay Verronica's kindness: the Ridgeback was only just recovering from converting her breed - a change that had stripped away her former form as a Guardian and destroyed her connection with her Charge, none other than the Arcanist. She needed a friend, and Snarlie thought he understood that.

Thus, the two set off on their own journey to start a clan. Through some hardships, they found a lair, members, and eventually rose to become one of the most prominent clans in Starfall Isles. The number of dragons in the clan grew, becoming more diverse, and soon it was no longer just dragons within a lair, but a family and a home.

As their clan grew, Snarlie was afraid that the rowdy group would eventually be too much for him, and that he'd be nothing but a burden. But considering it was also a clan full of Arcanites willing to eat anything remotely edible because they knew how to brew dangerous radioactive concoctions more than they knew to cook, Snarlie's skills were highly valued and even revered.

"Besides," Verronica said. "This is your home."

And that was one thing he could not deny.

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It's hard not to like Snarlie. He has an honest smile and penchant for making other dragons feel better. In the clan, he is a paternal figure, and even the most mischievous dragons tone down their rowdiness when they're around him. Due to his shyness, the majority of the clan attempts to calm down around him and act in a manner that is, ah, more proper for the more timid member of the clan. You know, unless there's a dom battle. Then, sayonara! Free for all!
Most of the time, Snarlie can be found in the clan's kitchen, making whatever it is that cheers up his clanmates. In the clan, the kitchen is neutral territory, a calm isle in the storm. You can go there for a break, for a nap, or for cookies and a chat with Snarlie. If you're feeling down, chances are you'll follow the aroma of baking cupcakes to the kitchen, and leave feeling much better. On the off chance you ignore the delicious smell, it's likely that Snarlie will come to you. He seems to always know when someone needs a hug or a chocolate-chip cookie, often appearing out of the shadows with a plate of freshly-baked muffins. Admittedly, this is slightly creepy, but hey, muffins!

Snarlie looks out for everyone, so naturally, everyone looks out for him. Mess with Snarlie? I don't think so, loser, unless you want half the clan and a Shade summoning in your face. The six hundred stab wounds and kick to your extremely sensitive bits won't be strictly necessary, but the last dragon who attempted to sue the clan for excessive violence was properly educated in just what that term meant in the Starfall Isles.

Getting kicked in that place does not count. At all.

Snarlie takes care of the clan's meals as well as hatchlings, often minding the little troublemakers while the rest of the clan preps for battle. He has a way with the newborns, able to calm them down when no one else can - quite an achievement, as most dragons are terrified out of their wits by baby Arcanites. In some ways, it seems as if there's nothing Snarlie can't do. Cooking, sewing, hunting, stopping Deyana from ending the world - the moment you think he can't do something is pretty much the moment you find out he can. Wise dragons have learned not to place bets on this particular matter. Foolish dragons ask Snarlie if he can sing.

Said foolish dragons will mysteriously disappear the following day, leaving nothing but the scent of vanilla in the air and a puddle of what may be fruit punch. But that can't possibly be Snarlie, right? He's such a fluffy, kind little guy, he'd probably never hurt the wing on a single fly.
Probably.