Sideral
(#13490433)
Level 25 Skydancer
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.58 m
Wingspan
4.76 m
Weight
599.76 kg
Genetics
White
Basic
Basic
Blood
Shimmer
Shimmer
Crimson
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Skydancer
Max Level
STR
126
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
59
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Biography
Sideral
Toxicologist
from the stars, darkness 000000000000000000000000000000000 |
You do not know when you first noticed the small side-cavern of the lair, a dark hollow in the wall that everyone else avoids without comment, silently encouraging you to avoid it as well. You do, at first, until day after day you pass by it, never knowing its secrets. It claws at you, eating at you, until at last curiosity takes over.
You approach the hollow, hearing the soft bubbling of liquid, the hiss of flames, and a soft, musical murmur. Your eyes adjust to the dimness slowly, shuddering slightly. This area of the cave seems damp for some reason, moist and hot. You see the silhouette of a skydancer by a row of shelves carved into the wall, the scratch marks indicating it was done by hand, or claw. The skydancer doesn't seem to notice you, completely wrapped up in his own work. You hear him still speaking to himself, seeming to be reciting some sort of ingredient list.
He is handsome, this skydancer, but despite his physical comeliness you are repelled by him, repulsed by the aura surrounding him. Here is darkness, here is hate. He seems to feel your disgust and looks up, vivid blue eyes flashing with malice. He grins, then, and you quickly retreat. You now know why this hollow is avoided, and will continue to uphold that tradition.
He was not supposed to be. Upon his hatching he did not rise, poisoned in his egg by fungus, set to die before his birth. He did not. He survived. Malice raised him, driving him onwards in life. To falter was to fail, to fail was to die. He would not falter, he would not fail. He would not die.
Sideral's life has ever been dark and joyless, and remains so as he ages. There is no happiness to this dark skydancer aside from his very particular, and peculiar, hobby, the brewing and bottling of various poisons and toxins. He spares no time for the others in his Clan, finding his only peace when he is crafting another dangerous concoction that has no cure, serves no purpose other than bringing pain and misery. He does not know why he is so drawn to the bubbling brews that boil forth in his cauldrons, only knows that what he creates are his alone, no one can figure out how to reverse them, how to stop them.
He can be considered mad, this skydancer, refusing to acknowledge anyone else within the small Clan he has made his own. He never introduced himself, merely let himself in, and no one in the Clan of the Falling sky has the heart, or courage, to chase him away. In return for food and shelter Sideral gives the Clan potions and medicines, providing they do not take anything without asking and do not pester him with inane questions. So far it has worked out, but for how long?
Art by Decay.
You approach the hollow, hearing the soft bubbling of liquid, the hiss of flames, and a soft, musical murmur. Your eyes adjust to the dimness slowly, shuddering slightly. This area of the cave seems damp for some reason, moist and hot. You see the silhouette of a skydancer by a row of shelves carved into the wall, the scratch marks indicating it was done by hand, or claw. The skydancer doesn't seem to notice you, completely wrapped up in his own work. You hear him still speaking to himself, seeming to be reciting some sort of ingredient list.
He is handsome, this skydancer, but despite his physical comeliness you are repelled by him, repulsed by the aura surrounding him. Here is darkness, here is hate. He seems to feel your disgust and looks up, vivid blue eyes flashing with malice. He grins, then, and you quickly retreat. You now know why this hollow is avoided, and will continue to uphold that tradition.
He was not supposed to be. Upon his hatching he did not rise, poisoned in his egg by fungus, set to die before his birth. He did not. He survived. Malice raised him, driving him onwards in life. To falter was to fail, to fail was to die. He would not falter, he would not fail. He would not die.
Sideral's life has ever been dark and joyless, and remains so as he ages. There is no happiness to this dark skydancer aside from his very particular, and peculiar, hobby, the brewing and bottling of various poisons and toxins. He spares no time for the others in his Clan, finding his only peace when he is crafting another dangerous concoction that has no cure, serves no purpose other than bringing pain and misery. He does not know why he is so drawn to the bubbling brews that boil forth in his cauldrons, only knows that what he creates are his alone, no one can figure out how to reverse them, how to stop them.
He can be considered mad, this skydancer, refusing to acknowledge anyone else within the small Clan he has made his own. He never introduced himself, merely let himself in, and no one in the Clan of the Falling sky has the heart, or courage, to chase him away. In return for food and shelter Sideral gives the Clan potions and medicines, providing they do not take anything without asking and do not pester him with inane questions. So far it has worked out, but for how long?
Art by Decay.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Feed this dragon Plants.
Exalting Sideral to the service of the Lightweaver 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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