Penumbra
(#1648833)
Lightweave Ambassador
Familiar
False Eye Depin
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
27.24 m
Wingspan
23.15 m
Weight
8624.38 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Metallic
Metallic
Black
Alloy
Alloy
Gold
Veined
Veined
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Imperial
EXP: 2506 / 5545
STR
23
AGI
11
DEF
6
QCK
15
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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I THINK, THEREFORE
He was not, and then he was. Penumbra has heard other dragons say there are points in their memory from when they were hatchlings in an egg, but he does not remember this. There is a clear, bright line in his memory from when he was not to when he was; a clear, bright line marked by the face of the Lightweaver, a shining beacon when he first opened his eyes. The charge was to come to the Archive, to ensure that the precious knowledge held within wasn't held by only one flight. The Lightweaver needed to know that the flighty children of the Windsinger weren't making a hash of this, and so he sent a construct to be his own eyes. Penumbra, though, did not find what he expected when he arrived. |
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I AM COME
The one they called Clanmother was very small. Penumbra was no stranger to a show of intimidation. He had encountered many on his journey from the Lightweaver's domain deep into Windsinger territory, and he had not felt threatened. Now, as Absinthe flared her wings and fins, making her diminutive form seem larger as she perched on the head of the red guardian Meirchion, Penumbra felt more threatened by the multicolored eyes blinking at him from the recessed archways of stone, a sure sign the entire clan was watching. "You smell made of magic," the Clanmother said, standing upright on her hind claws. She stretched herself to her full height, barely as long as Penumbra's nose. "You smell of the Lightweaver," Meirchion rumbled, deep in his chest. "Strongly. What brings you, Light's Construct?" "I was sent," Penumbra answered. The question, in his opinion, was foolish. They had already determined where he came from. "What is your purpose?" the Clanmother clarified, her crest snapping sharply up and down, like she was rebuking him. "To see. To learn." Penumbra looked around the Archive. He could smell the pages of parchment and scrolls of tanned hide from here. "There is much to see and learn." "And to tell," Meirchion added, his eyes shadowed under his cowl. Penumbra felt from him a presence like the chill air high above the clouds, where breath grows thin. The stars in his wings seemed to move to new constellations as he watched. The Clanmother's head tilted from one side to the other, regarding him steadily. "We have never cared before who came to learn," she said slowly. "Why should we begin now? To see and to learn, Light's Construct. You come for no other purpose?" "For what other purpose would I have come?" Penumbra asked, tilting his head in return, mimicking her motion. It was a strange one. "If you tell the truth - which I believe - then you may remain here. But you must pay the same price as any other who would seek to come." Penumbra realized they were both tilting their heads side to side, rhythmic, like a metronome. He forced himself to stop. "What is the price?" "Tell me a story," Clanmother Absinthe said simply, settling back on her haunches. Her flared wings folded, and her tail wrapped primly around her tiny claws. "A story?" Penumbra repeated. His mind turned. A story was a collection of words, put together to relate an event or tell a lesson. Penumbra knew no stories. "I am," Penumbra said, looking around at the archways full of eyes and back at the clanmother. "I am come." "You are," the Clanmother said. Perhaps she sensed his confusion. She leaned forward, reaching out, and Penumbra lowered his head without thinking. She touched one tiny claw against his nose. "Tell me how you are come. That is a story, indeed." The Clanmother had spoken. He was sent to see and learn. He could not see and learn if he could not stay. And so he began where he began. "I was not, and then I was." |
   
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SEE AND LEARN
What Penumbra, Light-Woven, came to learn of the dragons of Clan Silverwind was surprising in that it should not have been a surprise. Though at times they were illogical and flighty, as wind dragons tended to be, the chaotic and spirited bickering over which spell or history or alchemical formula was most important to translate first led to breakthroughs in all fields, a rediscovery of thousands of lost arts. As a purpose-built construct, Penumbra has no need for rest. He spends both day and night observing what the dragons of Clan Silverwind have discovered, as each thing he sees is catalogued to one day return to the Lightweaver. As a walking recording device, Penumbra can also be relied upon to perfectly recite anything from memory - this sometimes creates interesting competitions between Corvus's natural eidetic memory and Penumbra's artificial recording capacity, as the rest of the clan will encourage them to recite various scrolls and events, pitting them against each other to see if either of them can be stumped. Silly, purposeless competitions such as these have brought Penumbra something he had not experienced before coming to Clan Silverwind - amusement. Though one day he knows he will be called home to report all he has seen and learned, he believes that when that day comes the Lightweaver may allow him yet to return. After all, the Archive is massive, and there is always more to discover. |
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Exalting Penumbra to the service of the Windsinger 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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