Pard » Lair » Gree

Gree

(#20809803)

Level 10 Pearlcatcher

Familiar

Sparksylph

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

6.59 m

Wingspan

5.39 m

Weight

478.23 kg

Genetics

Smoke
Cherub

Green
Peregrine

Cream
Gembond

Hatchday

Feb 06, 2016
(8 years)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 10 Pearlcatcher

EXP: 9798 / 27676

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

Gree Frostbitten
Friendly/Lost/Easily Embarrassed
Former Mage

text

Gree grew up far into the Southern Icefields, parentless but fairly well treated in a Clan of warriors constantly expanding their borders. His egg had been bought, he was told, from a Beastclan whose seer-mage predicted that he would have prodigious magical power when he reached young adulthood. He grew with the shadow of this prophecy over his head, and it was as much a surprise to him as to the rest of his Clanmates (who decided when he was still a dragonet that they had been lied to, and slew the Beastclan traders in retaliation) when his power finally emerged. It was discovered accidentally, during a training exercise.

One of Gree's teammates, a young Pearlcatcher like himself of whom he was fond, tripped over a rock while being chased by the yeti they were to capture or kill. The wind was knocked out of him, and try though he might, he couldn't gasp out the words to the shielding ice-spell he was learning. The yeti was close, too close, and Gree, who had only been trained in physical attacks thus far, was too far away to help him. Gree screamed the Pearlcatcher's name, and suddenly, all the strength left him...and was transferred to his friend, who stood suddenly tall and spoke the shield-spell, trapping and killing the Yeti within it.

Experimentation in the next few months confirmed that Gree wasn't magically barren after all, as everyone had thought. He was a storehouse of magical and physical Ice-energy, able to take in and send at will. This made him incredibly useful on the battlefield, and so he was thrown into full patrols, without much time to explore his new abilities or figure out a new image of himself, after so long a time being a disappointment or frustration for his Clan.

And yet the months he spent with the patrol teams were the best, if hardest, of his life. He loved his teammates (his magic worked better in the presence of a strong bond between himself and the giver/receiver of magic, and so they were instructed to befriend him), and he loved being useful, having a job to do. The work was rough, the weather often inclement, but he reveled in it, testing himself by sending more and more of his energy out during each skirmish. He felt sore and drained afterwards, but shrugged it off; usually a good night's sleep could sort it.

It all came to a screeching halt just before his first birthday as a young adult. They were surprised by a Beastclan horde, many more than they had thought to be in the area. The first outrunner died with barely a scream of warning; soon, they were overrun. This was their second skirmish of the day, and everyone could feel it. The worst time to come up against a superior force. Gree pushed himself to his limit, eventually abandoning the main field of battle to focus on his energy blasts alone. He kept trying, knowing it was hopeless, spending himself to a thread to keep his companions fighting.

And then a particularly vicious attack took out the five rear guard, all at once. As they lay dying, they somehow agreed to send all their energy to Gree in one final burst, hoping their deaths wouldn't be in vain. And Gree...he took it, took it all, but when he tried to channel--darkness.

When he awoke, he was unable to move at first. His mind felt burned, as though he had been running through a raging forest fire for hours, but everything around him was still and cold. Even his wingtips and joints felt oddly cold. A look at himself in an iced-over puddle showed bone and blackened skin all over his body, but for some reason, he felt no external pain.

He looked around. Everywhere, dead--his companions, their enemies. But not nearly enough of the latter.

Gree stumbled back to his Lair and told the story to the elders. Every one, without fail, assumed that he had fled the battle and survived through sheer cowardice. They wouldn't listen to his explanations. His confusion over his injuries, the ringing in his head that only he could hear--none of it mattered. And when he tried, and failed, to perform his energy transfer and show them he wasn't lying...well, didn't that just prove it? Too afraid to do it again. Useless. As one, they turned their backs on him.

Gree stayed in the Lair for one more month, trying to recuperate and convince someone, anyone, to listen to him. But the elders' chilly regard spread through the rest of the Clan, to the point where all stopped speaking to him. A coward is not to be tolerated in the Southern Icefields.

He left at the tail end of winter, following no particular path. He tried, every day, to feel the hum of magic within himself again, and to send it out regardless of target. Every day, he failed, and the ringing in his head remained. He eventually deduced, after speaking to several powerful mages of differing elements, that what had happened to him was called "magical overload." The mental (and physical? Might explain his injuries) channels through which he worked his brand of magic were burned away by the excessive power of that last death-burst of magic. He hadn't known he had a limit. He should have suspected. But he didn't.

Gree's journey eventually led him to Stonehearth. He hoped that the fabled healing pools would at least heal his body, if not his mind--the frostbite at his joints has remained to this day, and while it is not precisely painful (more general discomfort), it has affected his mobility. He cannot fly, and has difficulty with fine motor skills and walking long distances. He is also partially deaf. So far, the pools haven't worked any magic that he can see, but Stonehearth is a comfortable place, and at least the worst looks he gets here are ones of pity, not hate. As long as he is allowed to stay, he will. Perhaps someday he will recover his abilities. He would love to teach magic fundamentals, in order to prevent what happened to him from ever occurring again.

Now that the trauma of his coming of age is further in the past, in person, Gree is almost overly friendly. He misses the camaraderie of his old Clan, whatever their motives, and when he starts talking it is sometimes difficult to get him to stop. Until, that is, he starts worrying that he is boring or annoying his conversational partner, at which point he will shut up. For days, sometimes. He has a very complicated mental image of himself, which fluctuates almost hourly and can bring on fits of deep depression or exuberant happiness at the drop of a hat. You will find no harder worker if you ask something of him, as long as you are willing to hear variations of "This is terrible, I'm sorry, I hope it's good enough, I'm sorry..." as he works through his various physical issues to give you the moon in a basket.

Genes Needed:
None

Originally owned by spaceguybenny--gening credit to them. Scatterscrolled: 1x.
Amazing adoptable by rubeofkubic!

^...

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