Jacques
(#19932211)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Redfin Wavespinner
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.72 m
Wingspan
4.92 m
Weight
910 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Basic
Basic
Fire
Peregrine
Peregrine
Sunshine
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
(Flameforger, Lightbearer, Prologue)
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After a long journey, he has finally found a home. A wanderer with commitment issues. A calico skydancer has been eavesdropping, perhaps a little too obviously. Once desGarets leaves earshot, Sharada hisses toward him under her breath. “And would you like to make your own clan’s case before me? Or are you trying to get juicier details than that which I release publicly?” Prologue sighs and raises his claws, protesting her accusations with a roguish charm. He chuckles lightly and sits down across from her. “Oh I’m not really part of a clan, even if many have needed my skills.” Sharada rolls her eyes at him. “Most clans can’t pay top dollar for spies, so I suppose it would only make sense that you would be in service to so many.” He blinks, a little gobsmacked. But he’s trained well, and recovers. A hearty laugh, a gesture toward her as a fellow snark-in-arms. “Perhaps, dear lady, but isn’t it more likely that I’m a simple adventurous soul who listens for opportunities to see the world?” “I haven’t got a use for you unless you want to map the Wendigo lairs. You’re not an Imperial so that makes it about fifteen percent safer than the previous poor soul.” Sharada opens a book on the local folklore and flips through the pages. Not breaking eye contact with Prologue. “I’d like to assure you- we are on the same side. You’re a lorekeeper, I’m a dragon of the Light, we are comrades already!” His eyes twinkle. Her purple eyes glower. “I’m not one to assume character based on one’s allegiance, but you are definitely a child of the Lightweaver. Arrogant and demanding. Pardon the pun, but you are on thin ice. Make your statement. I’ve entertained you for long enough." Prologue’s smile goes a little wooden. He sighs again, but this time not dismissively. "You. This venture of yours. It’s vulnerable. Dangerous. To you. Forgive me, your wit may be sharp but… a sword your words do not make. I am a representative as you said- from the realm of the Lightweaver. I want to preserve your work." "You want to take my work.” Story by Karika He stood upon the icy field, the chill wind ruffling through his feathers and making him shiver. He had a purpose being here in this land surrounded by this particular collection of dragons, but he didn't much fancy the weather. He turned his head to the north and thought about the sun-kissed lands from whence he came. He would travel back there again soon, assuming that he was able to retrieve what it was that he was here to get. The problem was that they were suspicious of him here. He'd had easier assignments, where the dragons he mingled with welcomed his presence and were none the wiser. These ones were less trusting, and he had already been called out once. He sat on his haunches and drew his wings in close to his body, capturing what warmth he could. He was a dragon of the light, and he valued wisdom as much as any who called the lands of the Lightweaver home. He knew the value of knowledge, as it was weighed and judged. He knew that the right words could raise a dragon up to power, or tear him down from it. The power wasn't that interesting to him, but the knowledge and reasoning behind it was. It was the words that he craved. He wanted to know the why of things. He wanted to know everything. His assignment in the Southern Icefields was only just beginning. He hadn't been looking for this clan specifically when he had come to this place, but he had fallen in with them nevertheless, and had found out that they had their own knowledge that was valuable, assuming that he could find someone who was willing to pay for it. There was usually always someone willing to pay. But what cost would it be for him to retrieve it? His original assignment wasn't forgotten, but it was temporarily put aside. He’d left the Coterie early the previous morning, and had taken time in his travelling, to make sure he wasn’t followed. If he had been, he could have claimed that he was simply curious to see how Sharada conducted her business at the Snowed Inn, but now that he stood outside its doors in the fading light, he had no excuses left to give. His mind was focused on his assignment, and the only thoughts that he could allow himself were those that would help him get closer to the Pearlcatcher, and the knowledge that she held. He entered through the threshold of the inn casually, doing his best to appear like any other casual traveller stopping to rest on his journey. His sharp eyes quickly narrowed in on Sharada, finding her seated behind a table that was burdened with maps and scrolls of all kinds. She was speaking with a great Guardian dragon that towered over her, dark scales gleaming in the candlelight that filled the inn’s interior. His interest piqued, he meandered closer. He had heard a lot about Sharada’s place at the Snowed Inn from the other dragons in the Coterie. He knew that she recorded intelligence from other clans in the icefields, anything and everything from locations and clan leaders, to trade details and what goods and valuables each clan collected and exported. It was a wealth of information that would fetch him a hefty sum, but as it was now, it was just out of reach. To obtain such knowledge, he would have to get past the stern Pearlcatcher, and Sharada was already suspicious of him. He sighed, thinking. Perhaps the fact was that he was simply overthinking the situation. He had been procuring information for a long time now, with great success. There was no reason to think that this time would be any different for him, despite the fact that the dragons of the Coterie were different from what he was used to. Shaking himself, he settled his resolve and moved closer to the table upon which rested the documents he was most interested in. The Guardian still held Sharada's attention, and as he waited patiently, she turned to face the Guardian fully, giving her back to the rest of the room. It was what he had been waiting for. He moved forward with all the swiftness he was capable of and secreted away several of the documents into his shirt before the Pearlcatcher could notice him. His task completed, he forced himself to move casually towards the exit, lest he draw attention to himself, and once the cool air hit his hide once more, he launched into the skies, angling north and heading for those that waited for him in the land of the Lightweaver. Only, his mind was not as clear as he had thought it would be. Memories passed across his eyes of things that the dragons of the Coterie had said to him, small gestures that they had made in kindness. There were more of them than he had remembered, and those such thoughts slowed the movement of his wings in the air currents. A particularly strong gust threatened to send him spiraling out of control, and he forced himself to land while his mind was in such turmoil. It would not do for him to be so distracted in flight. He did not know how long he stood on that hill, mirroring his pose from the previous day as he’d watched the dragons that he had found himself living among. He stood and debated all that he had seen and heard with his time with them, as well as what would greet him at the end of the journey to the Sunbeam Ruins. Wealth indeed, but camaraderie? He wasn't so sure. Perhaps he had not yet found that with these dragons either, but he began to think that maybe it was something that they could offer him. What was the value of information really worth? He took the scrolls from his shirt and looked at them in his claws. He did not open them, because the information inside them was not his to read. He wasn't sure that those who waited for him had a right to it either. Sharada had worked hard to gather information on the clans of the Southern Icefield, and she had done so in order to help them establish a community where they could work together. Who was he to destroy that trust? It was when the light began to fade in the sky and the air grew thick with frost that he finally forced himself into movement, shaking the ice from his feathers and launching into the sky once more. Not north this time, but back again, in the direction of the Snowed Inn. |
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Exalting Jacques 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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