Tsuro
(#22485132)
Level 25 Imperial
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Energy: 0
out of
50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
26.92 m
Wingspan
16.46 m
Weight
7770.88 kg
Genetics
Jade
Crystal
Crystal
White
Facet
Facet
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
114
AGI
20
DEF
10
QCK
60
INT
20
VIT
16
MND
17
Biography
Tsuro
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Freezing and burning for your faithless sake.
Profoundly protective of his smaller adoptive kin, Tsuro nourishes a deep anger toward the Lightweaver about the strange and destructive nature of his ancient, half-abandoned kind -- and their replacement by the proud Pearlcatchers. He will hear no word against the Pearlcatchers in his lair, though, nor will he tolerate any infighting about which kinds of dragons are best. His eye of judgment is fixed higher. Once individual dragons get past his reputation, they often find him their staunchest defender. He regularly trains up hatchlings to go to the Lightweaver's service, though. Maybe he's trying to sow dissension in the ranks. Maybe the devotees of gods are just funny that way. |
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Starfall Celebration, 2016 "You see what's happening, don't you?" said Tsuro. Quasar was shuffling through battle strategies on a large, low table in the lair's dining room. He gave the larger dragon a harried look. "Do I?" Tsuro put out a claw, unerringly located the sheet of paper Quasar was looking for, and held it out until the Spiral snatched it from him with a muttered thanks. "I think you do." Having gotten the papers in the proper order, Quasar looked up at Tsuro again, waiting for the impassive Imperial to explain himself. Both of the Clan Magpie trainers were Ice dragons by birth, but they were well settled into this Light lair on the Hewn City side of the Beacon. Quasar had been cheerfully poached from a neighboring Shadow clan that needed a battlefield trainer less than the brash new Clan Magpie did. Tsuro, on the other hand, came from a prestigious Ice bloodline, and no one knew quite why he'd elected to come fight for a clan so close to the Lightweaver, especially since he wasn't exactly quiet about his feelings on her. Tsuro re-settled his shimmering white wings, which anxious Quasar recognized as a nervous habit even if no one else did. "She's looking different." "Different from when she was a marble bust? Yes, I'd say she's a bit different, what with being mobile and back to normal and a good bit larger again and everything." "No, not that. Haven't you noticed ...? No?" Tsuro shook his head. "She's changed color." "I don't think she has. The sun's just at a different angle at this time of year." Tsuro sighed. "She really has. She's paler." Quasar thought about it. Well, now that Tsuro mentioned it ... "More marble-y, I guess?" "Pearlier," Tsuro said grimly. |
"Look, I'm not saying it's on purpose," Tsuro said intensely. "I'm also not saying she and the Arcanist talked this through beforehand, or anything. And you notice how I'm not talking about how she likes the little anklebiters better, how it's a pattern of slowly changing the scale and the cultural assumptions to suit them. I'm not even saying she's doing that, and you know I've never blamed them."
"No, you haven't," Quasar agreed, knowing that was important to his friend.
"So why suddenly develop this pearly --"
"Marble-y."
"--pearly sheen?" Tsuro insisted. "Just ... think about it, all right?"
Quasar looked into Tsuro's eyes and smiled lopsidedly. "I'll think about it," he promised. And he would think about it, for exactly as long as it took to figure out how to stop anyone else in the lair from being subjected to yet another of Tsuro's Lightweaver-related conspiracy theories.
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Exalting Tsuro 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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