Saphira (#24269858)
Level 25 Skydancer
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Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style





4.24 m
3.89 m
550.84 kg


Primary Gene
Secondary Gene
Tertiary Gene


Jun 08, 2016
(5 years)



Eye Type

Eye Type
Level 25 Skydancer
Max Level



  • none


  • none


Oh my gosh I haven't seen you without the accent in years

Their leader knew it was a trap, but he couldn't warn then fast enough.

A single sound echoed across the compound. A static haze, and the frantic words, "It's a trap! Pull out!" Little did he know the trap had already been tripped.

It should be something more than just wrong place wrong time :/

She didn't hide many things from her clan. They knew of the time she had spent fighting for the Flamecaller, and they knew of the event that had caused her to leave that life behind. They knew she deserted from the army when it became too much, and they knew that the higher-ups didn't take kindly to it, choosing to send patrols out searching for her, day and night. They knew she fled to light territory to escape it all, where she became an ambassador, so she could try to preserve the peace instead of shattering it. But they didn't know why she gave that life up.

They didn't know that her final assignment had been a trap. They didn't know that a single explosion destroyed any chance they once had of maintaining peace, and they didn't know that that had been the objective all along. They didn't know that she was there when it detonated, nor did she tell them that she had been thrown backwards by the force of the blast. She never spoke of how the entire lair had been leveled, or how a giant crater occupied the space where it had once been. They couldn't understand how horrible death could be, until they saw the littered remains of dragon hatchlings strewn about the clearing as far as the eye could see.

She was the only survivor of the attack, but no one knows that. She left the area before light flight's medics arrived, effectively making everyone believe that her remains are part of the many that littered the clearing. She's okay with that; the medics wouldn't have been able to help her anyway.

Her hearing had been permanently damaged from the explosion. She couldn't hear anything at all for days, and when it finally returned, it was much duller than before, paired with a constant ringing that made it difficult for her to hear someone standing right in front of her. Despite that, it took her clanmates a few years to discover that anything was wrong.

The tips of her wings began to turn white not long after the explosion that ruined her hearing. It was stress that caused the sudden change in color- her time in the war paired with the shock of being the lone survivor of a terrorist attack sent her mind into a downhill spiral that only got worse with time. Her clanmates knew of her psychological problems, but it took them a while to realize just exactly how bad they were.

She knew that the moment she lifted her talons to her ears and snapped a couple times next to each one. When her hearing returned, everything was a lot duller than before, paired with a constant ringing that made hearing much of anything difficult. Sounds have to be quite loud for her to hear them at all. Despite that, only a few of her clanmates have realized

She didn't want to have to tell everyone she met that she couldn't hear well, so she began teaching herself how to read lips. It provided her anxious mind something to do, on top of being useful.

Most assumed her poor hearing was a result of the war.

Her hearing was permanently damaged by the explosion.


The rhythmic clicking of talons jolted her awake. It had been a long time since she had heard noise of any kind, coming from someone other than her, and the experience had not been a pleasant one. She stood on shaky legs and backed herself into the farthest corner of the room, crouching there. She closed her eyes tight and held her breath, afraid of moving a muscle, hoping the sound would vanish if she held still.

The noise stopped right outside her door; had she opened her eyes she could have seen the silhouette of the figure standing on the other side of it, lit by a flickering torch that hung on the right of the wall. A jingling filled the corridor, a chill ran up her spine. One, two, three keys scraped against the lock on the door, until the forth slid inside and the key began to turn the lock. Before it clicked, a startled yelp rang out and the keys fell still. There was a scuffle, and a metallic clang, and then silence fell once more.

The silence was tense and eerie, almost tangible with its intensity. She froze in place, her head turned away from the door, her wings stiff and clenched at her sides. Panic was bubbling up in her chest, images and memories flashed through her head. She was stuck, listening, waiting, pleading, for the silence to end. Never before had it been so deafening.

Then the lock in the door clicked open, breaking the silence. The door swung open on creaking hinges and light flooded the room, nearly blinding her in it's intensity. It had been so long since she had seen any more than what leaked under the crack in the door.

Saphira didn't know what to expect when she walked into the Deepcarve Forest. She didn't know how many dragons were already hiding within, or what their reasons were for leaving their lives behind. She just knew she had to flee; she had to get as far away as she could before they realized she was gone.

They heard her coming. It was hard to miss; the days of stealth were far behind her. When she broke through the cover the trees and underbrush provided, however, she didn't see as many dragons as she had expected. Only five were watching her approach, each a different breed, with different eyes.

She knew how she appeared to them; her wings had turned white in certain areas from stress; her right shoulder and thigh were covered in deep scars. She had a terrible limp, caused whenever her right backleg touched the ground. She walked a few more steps, halting instinctively when she saw one of the watching dragons open his mouth to speak. "Who are you?"

She flinched, taking a step back. She shut her eyes, tensing as the words echoed in her head, drowning out her surroundings and replacing them with memories that she had hoped to forget. The sights and sounds of the war she had left behind never ceased to haunt her.

When the sounds faded, she opened her eyes again. She realized her talons were tightly gripping the sword at her waist and noticed the odd looks the five dragons standing before her were giving her. Two of them were glaring at her, baring their teeth in warning; the other three simply wore expressions ranging from curious to concerned. Sighing, she relaxed her grip on the blade and let her talons fall off of the hilt. She just stood there, her head bowed slightly from weariness, while she waited for them to let her continue. At long last, they did, and she resumed her slow, uneven gait towards them.

When she dared go no further, she stopped, gazing directly into the eyes of the dragon that had spoken to her. "My name is Saphira." she said evenly. She dropped her gaze after a moment, sighing. She knew they expected an explanation of what had occurred. In the same calm and collected voice she had used before, she spoke again, fixing her gaze on something far behind them. "Some dragons bear physical scars, while others have mental ones." Her gaze returned to the dragon standing before her, and she gave a faint, tired smile. "I'm one of the unfortunate few who carry both."

She was an ambassador whose sole purpose was to try to reach peaceful arrangements between clans that were warring against each other.

One of them turned violent; an explosion decimated the entire area while she was there. She was thrown backwards and a sharp ringing reverberated through her ears, drowning out all other sound. Medics immediately rushed over to her, talking over each other in an attempt to get her to respond, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Her thoughts were disorganized; she couldn't think in coherent phrases, let alone open her mouth to speak. She forced herself up on unsteady talons, wincing as pain arced through the right half of her body. She took a few steps, staring in horror at the carnage that lay before her.

Her right backleg gave out and she fell. She tottered on the edge of consciousness before she collapsed, her thoughts haunted by what she had seen.

She doesn't talk about how she received her limp, or the scars that reveal it's location. She's willing to talk about every other aspect of her time in battle, but whenever the conversation turns towards those injuries, the thoughtful look she displayed vanishes, replaced by an expression of pain and regret. She has to bow her head and walk away

You don't see these words or anything below them because everything from here on out is a complete mess of notes and random lore blurbs so I don't randomly forget where this lore is going halfway through haha
  • Trio of scars on her right thigh, maybe a crosshatching of scars on her right shoulder as well perhaps she was assaulted and knocked over or something
  • Ligament tear in her knee ugh research
  • popping noise when it happened, no pain (pain receptors were severed) instead it out on her. Yeah.
  • An injury that resulted from her time in a war probably a clash of clans war or some beastclan uprising since I am so very uncreative
  • Probably the only survivor from her....unit? Squadron? Battalion? I don't know anymore
  • medical advances aren't a thing in Sornieth, be quiet
  • Injury that gets worse over time since there's no way to fix it -> honestly it's fine, she has three other legs to use and can always use her rapier if she feels like walking around on legs instead
  • PTSD she must be my least OP dragon wow
  • Her wings started turning white at the edges (which is a sign of old age in this clan) when she was....probably early 30s; it's just a stress related thing
  • soft spoken, has a habit of trailing off when she talks from memory triggers
  • ^^ memory triggers. just let that sink in for a moment as you imagine all of the implications of a dragon thats been through heck in a handbasket

When she left the war, she was different from when she first joined. She always appeared lost, as if her thoughts ran too wildly for her to stay aware of what happened around her. She spoke very little, and never seemed to pay attention to those around her, however if a dragon tried to quiz her about what they said to prove it she'd always respond with a detailed explanation of what they had said to her. She always avoided large crowds to the extent of her abilities, and when they were unavoidable she always had a look like that of a trapped animal. She always jumped whenever someone talked to her and tapped her claws with anxiety until she found a way to escape.

There came a time when she accidentally wandered into the sparring grounds, too lost in thought to pay attention to where her talons were taking her. A dragon shouted to her, shaking her out of her thoughts, and not wanting to appear rude, she accepted their invitation to a friendly duel. She pulled out her rapier, settling into a crouch to allow her opponent the first strike.

It started out harmless enough. They exchanged a few blows, she slowly increased the strength of her attacks, trying to decide what skill level she should use with her partner. Before long her mind got away from her and her partner turned into an enemy that had nearly killed her during the war. She threw everything she had at him then. Halfway through the duel she noticed her partner's moves had altered dramatically, throwing her out of her rhythm. She heard a faraway voice begin to call her name. She growled, ignoring it, and altered her fighting style as well.

Saphira lunged at her opponent, her rapier pointed at his neck. Saphira! A sharp voice hissed at her. She stopped dead in her tracks, realizing all at once that she wasn't on the battlefield, and that her opponent wasn't the dragon that had nearly killed her all those years ago. She staggered sideways, dropping her blade as she looked at Raven, a blade as black as her scales crossed in front of her chest to block the blow Saphira had nearly given her. Her previous opponent crouched behind Raven, peering around one her flared wings, his eyes wide in shock and terror. "I..." Saphira started, panicking slightly as the realization that she had nearly killed one of her clanmates sunk in. Raven lowered her weapon and closed her eyes for a moment, her features taking on a wearied appearance when she finally opened then again. No one here will ever cause you harm, Saphira. She said softly, her eyes unfocusing for a moment as she glanced sideways, past her. She amended herself then, saying, As long as that doesn't happen again, anyway. She glanced back towards Saphira, her gaze hardening again. I understand you didn't mean to do what you did, but you are still at fault for your actions. Learn to control your imagination better, Saphira. I won't always be here in time to protect everyone from you.
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