Eris
(#14745972)
Level 5 Skydancer
Familiar
Lightning Sprite
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.69 m
Wingspan
5.16 m
Weight
815.18 kg
Genetics
Denim
Crystal
Crystal
Black
Facet
Facet
Caribbean
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Skydancer
EXP: 1464 / 5545
STR
26
AGI
6
DEF
8
QCK
13
INT
5
VIT
12
MND
6
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- Eternalflower
- Escape
- Uncertain
- Ezili
- Eurig
- Satine
- Rise
- Pwyll
- Rey
- Satine
- Delilah
- Coy
- Rogue
- Brak
- Urthadar
- Rogue
- Danya
- Eternity
- Ratha
- Ethereal
- Lotte
- Tameka
- Josilyn
- Kaine
- Apprentice
- Rococo
- Lakshmi
- Ekim
- Pacific
- Verigost
- Brista
- Nebulosa
- Una
- Zechariah
- Thelxiope
- Remington
- Farseer
- Eilwen
- Coventry
- Marrow
- Stallings
- Venus
- Crystal
- Shemonov
- Saskia
- Houdini
- Apprentice
- Einiona
- Amur
- Tzu
- Ekim
- Silver
- Serephen
- Chela
- Aslan
- Calla
- Arastina
- Ankaa
- Maelgad
- Gale
- Eloisa
- Armgo
- Vanyel
- Kree
- Mestra
- Brisk
- Talamir
- Tidom
- Jayle
- Kaezer
- Delicate
- Sobek
- Aulon
- Taurus
- Wail
- Darter
- Mondo
- Penthus
- Wisp
- Zaj
- Tambora
- Betan
- Zaleka
- Iskun
- Ejo
- Echo
- Padarn
- Eleff
- Baroque
- Eune
- Uilleam
- Andii
- Marquis
- Aiki
- Naida
- Zylen
- June
- Kiri
- Eomer
- Moonlight
- Jerm
- Gyges
- Sage
- Navale
- Lamonica
- Alin
- Corvus
- Quentin
- Thialle
- Probably
- Talise
- Tempeste
- Kabi
- Connor
- Rashed
- Geni
- Tepila
- Ezar
- Charin
- Hemlock
- Gwynfor
- Sionyn
- Ballah
- Ajah
- Myrfan
- Nephrite
- Kuiper
- Legend
- Thore
- Dilara
- Kiwi
- Klavdia
- Marcecon
- Amarth
Biography
"For a moment, I was convinced that you were holy."
It had never been their intention to let the usurpers live. And yet, here he was, giving the young skydancer a bloody tour of the Wyrmwound. To be fair, if he admitted it to himself, the lightning younglings had simply been pawns in the greater scheme that briefly overthrew the Plague clan.
Like he and the Loyal hadn't seen it coming. Like they hadn't been prepared.
Belial snorted and cast a discerning eye over Eris. The journey into Plague lands from her Lightning home ignited a rage in her that the male spiral recognized immediately. Mint and Emperor, curse them in the Mother's name, had not been far off by giving this female the title "Executioner", though that name was beneath what she was.
Berserker.
Being one himself, the maroon spiral swooped in and set about a training regime for the girl so she didn't attempt to slaughter the clan by accident. He heaved a disgusted sigh and wondered for the millionth time how he ended up with two young beserkers on his claws. He was an old man, now! Couldn't he just while away his days in peace? (Not like he actually would; the clan was too dear to him.)
"Old One," Eris breathed delicately, "I understand the wound, but the purpose eludes me. Why inflict suffering?" Eris was always like that - soft words, delicate gestures. Coddled and adored by her Lightning subjects, the skydancer didn't really understand the use of names. Old One, Soultwin, Motherling (Pandora's indignation at that one had been worth the bruise his snicker caused).
Belial pondered trying to explain names again, discarding the thought in seconds. It was a lost cause. "Survival," he hissed. "Survival is the purpose. Those who live through it all - the pain, the fevers, the despair - they are the truth of Plague."
Eris mulled this over. Never one to rush the formation of ideas, they stood in silence. A shiver rushed over her frame and her cerulean eyes widened. She turned slightly to the Wyrmwound, front paws lifted off the ground, wings flared for balance. "All is survival," she murmered. "All is Plague."
Belial's breath caught. Stormcatcher had abandoned this child. She glowed in the harsh sun, the sickly orange tinge of the Wyrmwound's luminescence sinking into each feather. She radiated life, hope, purpose. Forget pretty platitudes and light colds some described as their Plaguebringer's mark.
Eris was Plague.
And the moment passed. "Fatherling, I am ready for food now," she stated, her belly grumbling at the spiral, declaring the day done.
Belial grinned at his newest daughter and motioned to home. "Lead the wa... did you just call me "Fatherling"?! What in the Mother's name is that?"
The skydancer's light giggle was all that remained as he stood, locked in place. The realization shook him.
"You totally understand how names work, don't you?!"
It had never been their intention to let the usurpers live. And yet, here he was, giving the young skydancer a bloody tour of the Wyrmwound. To be fair, if he admitted it to himself, the lightning younglings had simply been pawns in the greater scheme that briefly overthrew the Plague clan.
Like he and the Loyal hadn't seen it coming. Like they hadn't been prepared.
Belial snorted and cast a discerning eye over Eris. The journey into Plague lands from her Lightning home ignited a rage in her that the male spiral recognized immediately. Mint and Emperor, curse them in the Mother's name, had not been far off by giving this female the title "Executioner", though that name was beneath what she was.
Berserker.
Being one himself, the maroon spiral swooped in and set about a training regime for the girl so she didn't attempt to slaughter the clan by accident. He heaved a disgusted sigh and wondered for the millionth time how he ended up with two young beserkers on his claws. He was an old man, now! Couldn't he just while away his days in peace? (Not like he actually would; the clan was too dear to him.)
"Old One," Eris breathed delicately, "I understand the wound, but the purpose eludes me. Why inflict suffering?" Eris was always like that - soft words, delicate gestures. Coddled and adored by her Lightning subjects, the skydancer didn't really understand the use of names. Old One, Soultwin, Motherling (Pandora's indignation at that one had been worth the bruise his snicker caused).
Belial pondered trying to explain names again, discarding the thought in seconds. It was a lost cause. "Survival," he hissed. "Survival is the purpose. Those who live through it all - the pain, the fevers, the despair - they are the truth of Plague."
Eris mulled this over. Never one to rush the formation of ideas, they stood in silence. A shiver rushed over her frame and her cerulean eyes widened. She turned slightly to the Wyrmwound, front paws lifted off the ground, wings flared for balance. "All is survival," she murmered. "All is Plague."
Belial's breath caught. Stormcatcher had abandoned this child. She glowed in the harsh sun, the sickly orange tinge of the Wyrmwound's luminescence sinking into each feather. She radiated life, hope, purpose. Forget pretty platitudes and light colds some described as their Plaguebringer's mark.
Eris was Plague.
And the moment passed. "Fatherling, I am ready for food now," she stated, her belly grumbling at the spiral, declaring the day done.
Belial grinned at his newest daughter and motioned to home. "Lead the wa... did you just call me "Fatherling"?! What in the Mother's name is that?"
The skydancer's light giggle was all that remained as he stood, locked in place. The realization shook him.
"You totally understand how names work, don't you?!"
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Exalting Eris to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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