Irithia
(#21761796)
the show must go on.
Nisha
Dunewind Manticore
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 45/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.61 m
Wingspan
5 m
Weight
809.14 kg
Genetics
Black
Clown
Clown
Teal
Flair
Flair
Steel
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 19 Skydancer
EXP: 10641 / 104563
STR
5
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
42
INT
94
VIT
9
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- Unnamed
- Jabrielle
- Gentle
- Unnamed
- Aluvirsan
- MagicMan
- Rosario
- Deirdre
- Unnamed
- Tirithran
- Marble
- Azure
- Unnamed
- Seiki
- Ford
- Bonejack
- Skyfall
- Lissie
- Seren
- Galley
- Thief
- Frigga
- Enoth
- Kindle
- Cylla
- Chasm
- Iris
- Kubira
- Selden
- Coy
- Moonfeather
- Lindsay
- Iotama
- Misu
- Casado
- Democritus
- Sivir
- Georgi
- Salford
- Galena
- Lace
- Donnie
- Thorn
- Caide
- Margaery
- Malen
- Wondrous
- Amalia
- Balti
- Zesiro
- Joyful
- Panop
- Laylan
- Ludis
- Niko
- Cenn
- Mythos
- Sela
- Elzia
- Leonard
- Yaretzi
- Glaucus
- Diego
- Laguna
- Nahnie
- Ragabash
- Misieth
- Unnamed
- Clara
- Tegan
- Samira
- Margo
- Xavia
- Lesley
- Kutta
- Thana
- Rashad
- Gentleman
- Venture
- Eotua
- Acappella
- Chivalry
- Legendary
- Cefni
- Nakkita
- Xanaver
- Axemage
- Abel
- Ira
- Heulwen
- Planeshifter
- Seimon
- Windchime
- Hunter
- Cassiopeia
- Victor
- Victoria
- Beigis
- SeaShine
Biography
|
. I R I T H I A mastermind and manager |
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ATTRIBUTES
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DESCRIPTION
Irisithelia's daughter strikes an imposing figure as the mastermind of Cirque de la Lune. Managing a circus requires a certain level of talent and finesse, which Irithia has found in spades living outside of her mother's shadow. Sometimes princesses stay princesses, and sometimes the fallen ones find their way to the oddest of places. At her side stands Revel, her longtime companion, confidant, and business partner; Palimira, former guard captain-turned head of security; Princen (Ponytail Steve), the flamboyant co-ringleader; Dorian, Princen's other half; Euru, the Cirque's healer; and a full cast of entertainers from around Sorneith. |
|
Backstory wrote:
When Irithia opened her eyes again, the endless sky yawned over her, all stars. Constellations danced through her vision. Forming the patterns was easy, but she could never remember their names. Ah, well.
One of her wings lay at an awkward angle by her side, broken but not beyond repair. Dirt and blood were caked over her feathers so heavily she couldn't tell where the the grime ended and the blood began. She would need a wash. A wash and a healer.
An ache had settled into her muscles while she'd been unconscious, and it pulled hard at her as she struggled to stand. A paw found hers in the dark, and when she'd gotten to her feet with help, she looked around for the source. Revel stood very close, eyes sharp as they took in her appearance.
"What happened? I was on a hunt, and when I came back, the queen was in a rage," he said, voice low, paw still grasping hers. "She wanted us both dead. I barely escaped."
When she first attempted to speak, it came out in a croak. Clearing her throat, she tried again, this time managing to get out a hoarse whisper. "She thinks I'm too soft to be her daughter. She got it into her head that someone snuck my egg into her nest years ago, and I was never really hers to begin with. So she tried to have me killed, and you with me. I made it this far before I collapsed. Do you know how long it's been?"
"A good few hours or so. We need to get you cleaned up and deeper into the wood before they catch up to us."
Peering at their surroundings, Irithia saw an unfamiliar clearing, bathed in moonlight and the soft violet aura of the bioluminescent mushrooms nearby. Tall grasses obscured them somewhat, but being out in the open like they were for very long was not prudent. Irithia turned back to her friend with a little shiver at the chill in the air.
"Right. Cleaning. I could probably just--" Scrunching her eyes shut, Irithia took a deep breath and pushed her focus into pushing the caked-on muck from her feathers. Within a few moments, it had all flaked away. Holding her broken wing as flat to her body as she could manage without screaming, she murmured, "Let's go."
One of her wings lay at an awkward angle by her side, broken but not beyond repair. Dirt and blood were caked over her feathers so heavily she couldn't tell where the the grime ended and the blood began. She would need a wash. A wash and a healer.
An ache had settled into her muscles while she'd been unconscious, and it pulled hard at her as she struggled to stand. A paw found hers in the dark, and when she'd gotten to her feet with help, she looked around for the source. Revel stood very close, eyes sharp as they took in her appearance.
"What happened? I was on a hunt, and when I came back, the queen was in a rage," he said, voice low, paw still grasping hers. "She wanted us both dead. I barely escaped."
When she first attempted to speak, it came out in a croak. Clearing her throat, she tried again, this time managing to get out a hoarse whisper. "She thinks I'm too soft to be her daughter. She got it into her head that someone snuck my egg into her nest years ago, and I was never really hers to begin with. So she tried to have me killed, and you with me. I made it this far before I collapsed. Do you know how long it's been?"
"A good few hours or so. We need to get you cleaned up and deeper into the wood before they catch up to us."
Peering at their surroundings, Irithia saw an unfamiliar clearing, bathed in moonlight and the soft violet aura of the bioluminescent mushrooms nearby. Tall grasses obscured them somewhat, but being out in the open like they were for very long was not prudent. Irithia turned back to her friend with a little shiver at the chill in the air.
"Right. Cleaning. I could probably just--" Scrunching her eyes shut, Irithia took a deep breath and pushed her focus into pushing the caked-on muck from her feathers. Within a few moments, it had all flaked away. Holding her broken wing as flat to her body as she could manage without screaming, she murmured, "Let's go."
Art wrote:
WHAT IF
Anise, now Kubira wrote:
A warrior's spirit comes in handy when your family is hunted as deserters. Not that Isithelia and her clan can get very far into Light territory, but vigilance is better than idleness, and waiting for things to happen rather than actively preparing for them is always the worse option.
Anise was always ready for a fight. It was never aggression--more a feeling of peace, of rightness, when she was practice sparring with a clanmate. The exertion was a thrill, every gasped breath and bead of sweat a spur to her energy, every bruise and scratch an earned trophy. And when her practice payed off, when her skill had finally exceeded that of many of her younger clanmates, she was magnificent to watch. Fire lit in her eyes, a passion to match her sister's, and even when she was outmatched, she fought until she could not anymore.
When she had learned all she could from her clan and parents, her mother declared her ready for an occupation and named her an ambassador to other clans. Constant fear of attack meant constant need for allies--of course, they had to find allies first. It was not so difficult among the sunbathed ruins of Light's domain, but Irithia wanted to branch out, as clans far and wide held a broad range of knowledge and specialties. Lunaris needed all the help it could get.
Anise, therefore, was sent to camp near the trading post, instructed to find friends among the stands, carts, and tents that dotted the wide field. She liked this place; it was a colorful menagerie of other dragons, and she itched to challenge any one of them to a practice bout. The scents of cooking food--game hens and little fish and vegetables--joined kicked-up dust and a ceaseless buzz of chatter in clogging the air. Through the riot of color and noise and dirt, Anise spotted a dragon who looked up for a challenge and approached with something like confidence to ask him for a duel.
Anise was always ready for a fight. It was never aggression--more a feeling of peace, of rightness, when she was practice sparring with a clanmate. The exertion was a thrill, every gasped breath and bead of sweat a spur to her energy, every bruise and scratch an earned trophy. And when her practice payed off, when her skill had finally exceeded that of many of her younger clanmates, she was magnificent to watch. Fire lit in her eyes, a passion to match her sister's, and even when she was outmatched, she fought until she could not anymore.
When she had learned all she could from her clan and parents, her mother declared her ready for an occupation and named her an ambassador to other clans. Constant fear of attack meant constant need for allies--of course, they had to find allies first. It was not so difficult among the sunbathed ruins of Light's domain, but Irithia wanted to branch out, as clans far and wide held a broad range of knowledge and specialties. Lunaris needed all the help it could get.
Anise, therefore, was sent to camp near the trading post, instructed to find friends among the stands, carts, and tents that dotted the wide field. She liked this place; it was a colorful menagerie of other dragons, and she itched to challenge any one of them to a practice bout. The scents of cooking food--game hens and little fish and vegetables--joined kicked-up dust and a ceaseless buzz of chatter in clogging the air. Through the riot of color and noise and dirt, Anise spotted a dragon who looked up for a challenge and approached with something like confidence to ask him for a duel.
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Exalting Irithia to the service of the Lightweaver 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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