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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.05 m
Wingspan
7.22 m
Weight
841.98 kg
Genetics
Blood
Speckle
Speckle
Blood
Freckle
Freckle
Sunshine
Crackle
Crackle
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 12 Skydancer
EXP: 20008 / 38956
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
Burnout
~The Flamesmith~
~The Flamesmith~
|
| A cheerful metalworker whose dream is to discover new forging techniques. Met legendary ironworker Spruce at a festival and insisted on becoming his apprentice, following the older dragon all the way back to the Tangled Woods. |
|
--Origins--
Burnout was, to be perfectly frank, burned out. The other new apprentice at the small forge he was working at had somehow managed to confuse sulfur for pumice again, meaning he was going to be smelling the noxious fumes for days. He still couldn't quite master the hammering technique required to turn steel into a strong, tempered weapon rather than a lumpy stick that shattered if he so much as breathed on it wrong. And to make matters worse, the master forger spent so much time grumbling about quotas and inefficiency that he was starting to suspect that she was a Lightning dragon in disguise, possibly cast out of the Shifting Expanses for making the Bossman himself look like a slacker.
He chirped in a rather self-pitying way. It wasn't that he didn't want to work hard! He wanted to live up to his Fire heritage by learning the Flamecaller's prized art, and it was his dream to discover a new technique that would revolutionize the smithing world. But he was still young, and it was his first festival! Surely he could have one full day off just to enjoy it, to watch a round of the joust or try his hand at burning some Mammertees or just take a relaxing lava bath. Surely it would provide him with some sort of inspiration for a new forging technique... somehow...
At the very least he could try some of the festival food. The Spiral apprentice had been raving about a tiny bakery stall that had opened up recently, about how the Meat Burnies were to die for, right before he'd thrown the sulfur into the fire and nearly killed them all. Burnout plucked the treasure pouch around his neck from his feathers and carefully counted the gold and jewels. Just enough. He approached the Snapper standing behind the stall and ordered one of the Insect Puddings.
Maybe he should have read more into the throaty chuckle the Snapper let out when she handed him the pudding, because when he bit into it his beak clanged hard against something hard and metallic. He squawked in shock, causing some of the passersby to stare. He cleaned the rest of the pudding off with his tongue to reveal a simple gold necklace.
He let out a hum, wondering if he would get more for it melting it down into gold ore or by selling it outright. For now, he tossed it around his neck, noting how it heated up on contact.
And then he stopped short, barely noticing when a Fae crashed into him and began complaining at him in its flat tone. Maybe the reason he couldn't seem to get the steelworking right was that his own body was affecting the temperature. And maybe... just maybe, he could find a way to turn his own inner magma into a new technique...
He dashed back to his current home, the spectacle of the festival forgotten.
--Art--
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Exalting Burnout to the service of the Shadowbinder 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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