Fylgja
(#19232159)
Mother of Many
Familiar
Tinder Toy
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Energy: 50
out of
50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Guardian
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Effect
Scene
Measurements
Length
16.66 m
Wingspan
12.25 m
Weight
8743.04 kg
Genetics
Emerald
Basic
Basic
Latte
Basic
Basic
Silver
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Guardian
Max Level
STR
126
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
58
INT
5
VIT
11
MND
5
Biography
Fylgja of Valhall
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__ With an open heart and a gentle smile, Fylgja is the warmth on a summer's day. Her role has always been to mellow Týr's harsh edges and keep him on the right path, a voice of reason when no one else can be trusted to be. It is Fylgja that holds him back, just as he is the one to push her forward. They are the core of Valhall. More than this, Fylgja is peace, she is safety. Her position on the Esteemed Council is not that of another Councillor, but as their Peacekeeper, soothing bruised egos and mediating arguments that spout in the midst of discussion. It is Fylgja that holds the eternal tiebreaker vote, herding the Councillors as easily as she herds unruly hatchlings, and it is Fylgja that ensures they break to eat and rest when the hours grow long. She is the glue of the Council, necessary for them to stand united always. Fylgja is the backbone and the comfort of Valhall; the crackling hearth keeping them warm on the coldest winter nights. There cannot be a Valhall without Fylgja and, likewise, there cannot be Fylgja without Valhall. |
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 ╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ the Mother of Many Warden of the Hatchery Council Peacekeeper ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ | __ |
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It is true that the Mother of Many cannot count. She has many children, now, but knows not how many, and she never will. Fylgja knows every name instead, every favourite food and oddity, and then it does not matter how many of them there are. The only thing of importance is that they are happy, cared for, and content. This extends to all of Valhall's inhabitants. This is why she is the Mother of Many—Fylgja cares deeply, and recklessly. Her love knows no bounds or limits. Any dragon that lives on Valhallan land is hers to care for. Like many mothers, Fylgja simply knows when she is needed, and what is needed of her. And she will always do her best to provide. She is patient and unshaken, suited to handle the endless chaos that falls upon Valhall regularly. It is also why she chose to dedicate herself to the young ones, the ones that needed her most, and the hatchlings adore her unflappable attitude and sense of childish fun. Fylgja will play with the hatchlings as easily as she will help train the Warrior Recruits, her temperament lending itself nicely to a plethora of tasks. But because she is so mellow, kind as can be and patient with the most troublesome amongst them, the few times her anger is seen strikes terror into every Valhallan. None are immune to her disappointment and ire, the strongest of Warriors cowering the same as the mischievous younglings caught skipping lessons. Her ire is rarely experienced, but it is always felt, and the whole of Valhall would rally behind her should she deem someone worthy of her heartfelt fury. Her fury, when is appears, is swift and deadly. Fylgja does not condone senseless violence, and she will always exhaust every other option before choosing battle, but when needs must she is one of the fiercest warriors. Fear does not hold her back—she cannot be intimidated into backing off. Fylgja would fight until her very last breath if the clan required her to and would regret nothing if she was forced to lay down her life to save her clan. | __ |
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» Despite her best efforts, Fylgja has never been able to recall her past before Týr. Though less painful now, this gap in her history bothers her. » Collects gemstones of all kinds—she's particularly fond of blue or clear ones. The walls of her den are adorned with countless gems lined up on various shelves. » Fylgja is one of the dragons helping newcomers get settled in. Be it to help them find something to do, or offering companionship, she's always prepared to step up and offer whatever help is needed. | __ |
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Týr was the first thing Fylgja knew for certain—a clear spot in a muddled, empty mind that'd been hollowed and reduced to a frightening void. She does not know where she came from. Fylgja does not know if she has parents; if she was loved, gently tucked in at night, or comforted when thunder rumbled the skies. She does not know if she had friends, or a clan, or anyone to miss her when she inevitably ended up stranded and alone in the Icefields. The only thing Fylgja knows for certain is that Týr appeared, a wraith emerging from the blizzard, and that he did not leave. And together, they built a home. Fylgja did not realize what the burning warmth in her chest was at first. She looked upon the three hatchlings they'd found and taken in, forgotten souls just like herself and Týr, and felt her chest swell with joy. For every dragon that joined their mismatched group, Fylgja's flame burned ever brighter, and her determination to protect them all grew. She did not realize that she had found her Charge, that this group of dragons was hers to guard, and it would be years before she understood it. All of Valhall was her Charge, this group of dragons and creatures bound together, and where they went Fylgja would always follow. This was her purpose. As they all progressed deeper into the Icefields, living out of tents and feeding off the land, Fylgja fussed and bustled about. She was the steady presence that kept them all in order, the one that always had a second to spare. Fylgja loved them freely and fiercely. Every obstacle she threw herself at, every foe she faced for them, and every loss she mourned. When they reached the sunnarstr cliffs, Fylgja was weary. The only thing further south than them was an endless ocean, agitated and deep, and the horizon spanned further than the eye could see. This was where they settled, where Valhall truly was born. It was here they built their huts, cobbling together firepits and fortifications, and it was here that the Old Gods whispered approval unto them beneath the full moon's loving gaze. Buildings slowly rose from the desolate land. Fylgja watched over them as they worked, pitching it whenever necessary and pulling apart squabbling dragons on the daily. She followed them into the mountain and decided that what they were truly missing was a hatchery. A safe space for the young ones, where they could truly safeguard the future of the clan. It ended up becoming her most treasured project. Fylgja carved the hatchery from nothingness with her own claws, creating caverns and alcoves and doorways with intricate designs and detailing. She commissioned the mages to carve protective runes into the walls and, when war came for them, she had the hatchery reinforced even further. It became the safest place in all of Valhall, able to withstand the wrath of a god and beyond. | __ |
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T Ý R Despite a rough start, Tyr became her best friend. The two aren't much alike, yet play off one another excellently. Her gentle heart and his unyielding strength are the very foundation of Valhall. While they have achieved their goal of creating Valhall properly, they make it a point to continue going on various adventures together—hunting, scavenging, exploring. | __ |
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S A G A Saga is the older sibling Fylgja never had, in a way, no matter that they don't share blood. Though they've had ups and downs, hers is a friendship Fylgja truly appreciates; not all dragons are blessed with a friend as loyal or true as Saga. As willing to take the hard talks as she is to share the good, she's one of the few dragons Fylgja trusts absolutely. | __ |
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N O X Out of the many troubled souls in Valhall, Fylgja took a particular shine to Nox. The young dragoness struggled to fit in with them at the best of times, not quite on the same wavelength as most, but somehow, her prickly attitude was lacking when she was with Fylgja. As it were, Fylgja would come to love her as her own daughter, and Nox loved her as much in return. | __ |
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Exalting Fylgja 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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