Marci
(#18546539)
Level 11 Skydancer
Familiar
Maren Warlock
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.31 m
Wingspan
6.66 m
Weight
764.28 kg
Genetics
Goldenrod
Poison
Poison
Goldenrod
Toxin
Toxin
Banana
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 11 Skydancer
EXP: 837 / 34264
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
6
INT
8
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
Marci
Child of Fortune
she/her
she/her
 
|
Marci was always a fickle thing. She'd spend hours pouring over her reflection, gushing over the glass-like picture staring back at her. Never was it more clear to her that she was a goddess than when she caught sight of herself mirrored in the still water. Her scales simmered in the light, glowing with a splendour unseen in such a remote, icy domain. Or any domain, she mused. The jealous gazes of her clanmates delighted her; never had such beauty blessed their unworthy eyes before, she was convinced. She couldn't help but stretch out her wings and preen when they glanced her way; it was the least she could do to remind them of their place in life. Their colors dulled in comparison to hers in the same way the moon was eclipsed by the sun. The sun. Even it paled next to her. Really it was a crime that she didn't take its place. And, the more she thought of it, the more she like the idea. It was perfectly poetic. Absolutely fitting. And, she would see it become a reality. Giving her reflection a long, lingering glance, she bid it farewell and set out to seek the nearby shaman. It was a long flight, too short for her liking, though; the sun's rays reflecting off her scales sent tantalizing patterns across the frozen ground that she loathed to see end. And, by the time she found the shaman’s domain, she was already missing her reflection. The world seemed so dull without it. The shaman, a dingy, grizzled looking old dragon didn't look up at her when she landed with a resounding thud. A half empty cauldron bubbled a short distance away, shooting up pale pink smoke at irregular intervals. Piles of rocks lay in mounting heaps, books, and dust-covered trinkets haphazardly strewn about. Marci wrinkled her nose; she could practically feel the grime creeping onto her scales with each passing second. “What can I do ye for?” the darker dragon asked, idly flipping through the pages of a withered book. “I've come to seek my destiny,” she said, ruffling her feathers as she spoke. When the other dragon didn't reply, she continued, “I'm going to be the next goddess, you see… Why wait for that to happen when now is a good a time as any,” her tone grew snapper as she didn't receive the acknowledgement she deserved, “Come now good sir; I seek my rightful place as the sun’s replacement.” “I see,” the shaman said. Gingerly he closed the tome and set it to one side. He finally looked up at her, impassably eying her, “I do believe I can help you achieve your destiny.” She sat up straighter, unfurling her wings a bit so they'd better catch the light. She would indeed make a most fetching sun. “Do hurry, would you? I do have places to be.” “Of course,” he replied benevolently, inclining his head, “it won't be another moment, my lady.” With a nimbleness his precious demeanor did not suggest, he bounded from pile to pile, rooting through rocks and herbs and broken bits and bobs. Some he inspected for a moment before casting aside, others he tossed into the cauldron with a sizzling plop. It was almost too quick for her to follow, but she never let her aloof demeanor slip. Things were getting done; that was all that mattered. Soon she'd be taking her rightful throne. The thought nearly made her giggle. Suddenly the he-dragon was inches from her face, a wide grin splitting his face. “It is complete, my lady. All that is left is something from you. A single feather will do. Go on. Drop it in and seize your destiny.” Marci shook herself off. “About time,” she muttered, giving the shaman a disgruntled look. The walk to the cauldron was impossibly long. Ice crunched underfoot. Her breath frosted the air. And, as she peered over the lip off the dented cauldron, her heart raced. A quick tug pulled a feather from her wing, the sharp sting nothing in comparison to the rush bubbling in her veins. As it fell, it caught the light, glimmering like glass, then dainty stretched out across the surface of the potion. For a single heartbeat nothing happened. The feather dipped, sinking to the bottom of the cauldron, bright, blinding light rising up from it. White hot heat scorched her scales and seared into her mind. The stench of burning rubber filled her nose, souring the crisp morning air. She fell back, head spinning. It took a long moment before she was able to sit up and inspect herself. And, at first, she was confused. Her scales no longer glittered. In fact, the longer she looked at her paws, the more convinced she became that she could see the ground behind them. As she folded her wings, they tinkled together, a pure, clear sound that was very out of place. And, as she began to realize what had happened, she took a closer look at the glass that now made up her entire body. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to think of her reflection. |
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Exalting Marci to the service of the Icewarden 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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