Olsson
(#25121994)
Master of Supplies
Igla
Root Dweller
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Snapper
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.72 m
Wingspan
2.42 m
Weight
6508.43 kg
Genetics
Honeydew
Giraffe
Giraffe
Saffron
Seraph
Seraph
Gold
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Snapper
Max Level
STR
7
AGI
5
DEF
9
QCK
5
INT
5
VIT
9
MND
5
Biography
Olsson the Hungry
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__ When a dragon is upset, you can count on Olsson to show up with a grumble and a platter of their favourite snack in tow. He knows. And Olsson cares in this way; he cares by ensuring everyone is fed, that they have a little pick-me-up in those rough moments, and that everyone's preferences is seen. From weekly menus to preferences and food allergies—Olsson knows. These things he would never forget, whilst nigh on everything else slips his mind, and perhaps this is better. If Olsson could recall everything with the same ease as he recalls the dinner menu, everyone would be in trouble, for he's served as Valhall's Head Chef long enough to have seen it all. And Olsson intends to continue serving as their Head Chef for a long time to come, too, far too protective of his carefully crafted kitchen full of rare spices and speciality tools to ensure he can create all the things he need to. His pride, his kitchen; his home. |
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 ╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ the Master of Supplies Valhall's Head Chef Botanist ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ | __ |
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Olsson does not speak much. He is the kind that gives a gruff little grumble and wanders away, always busy and never stopping. The to-do list in the kitchen is a pointlessly long beast few except him would ever dare tackle; a never ending list that grows longer every day, a never endling list Olsson valiantly keeps chipping away at with a nonchalance few can comprehend. More surprising than his determination to finish all the tasks is how Olsson manages to keep track of it all. He is constantly juggling a dozen tasks at once, somehow never losing track of those, but he wouldn't be able to tell you what day of the week it is even if his life depended on it. And he somehow knows the favourite snack, food, and drink of every dragon in Valhall, even if they've never told him, and never gets them mixed up. Because to Olsson, that matters. He cares, deeply and wholly, and shows it by showing up with snacks and warm drinks. Olsson does not say anything, he acts. Those seeking conversation will find none with him. He's a bit rough around the edges in that manner, face often set in a scowl and lumbering about with loud steps, elbowing dragons and things out of his way. He does not express his kindness in the most appetizing manner, one might say. It is also true that Olsson does not give off the best first impression. Many think him to be slow and stiff, with his awkwardly stubby Snapper legs, or frightfully serious with his scowling and muttered words. He's not happy about these things being what others see first about him, however; he wants others to see his food, not him. It's what matters to him more than anything. Because if Olsson is to be known for something, it must be his food. He does not want to be known for his awkwardness, stilted small talk, the way his jokes never quite land, or how he chats more with the mice that help him in the kitchen than any dragon. And make no mistake, there is a big difference in his helping mice and the rats. If he didn't have little mice helpers, how would he get everything done? There's dozens of dragons to feed several times of day, of course he needs sidekicks, and of course they need to be cute. It's practically a law of nature. | __ |
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» In a bid to spice up his cooking further, Olsson ventured into the world of botany. And he never really left, either, finding it quite enjoyable. » Despite his grumpy exterior, Olsson has a considerable weak spot for hatchlings, and he will most definitively crumble in an instant if any of them ask him for sweets. » Runs somewhat of an accidental cat-sanctuary in the kitchens after a passing ship left them with a litter of unwanted ones. The hatchlings love it. | __ |
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He was a nomad, once, born and bred. Olsson did not know home to mean a place, he had no roots, and he learned early on that the most important thing a dragon could have was family. Family kept you alive—family was the difference between life and death. A lone dragon was a dead dragon. For years, Olsson wandered alongside his family. He learned a plethora of skills, his mother steadfastly teaching him their traditions and customs, whilst his father ensured Olsson knew the essential skills such as reading and writing. They helped him find his passions, too, as they took him through the world at large and let him try his hand at whatever caught his fancy. Olsson tried whatever he could—studied arts and literature in massive libraries with floors of marble and pillars reaching for the skies, tanned pelts in the deep forests alongside masters of their craft, and cooked beside a dozen dragons from a dozen lands. It was as a cook Olsson found his passion and joy. There was nowhere he was as happy as he was by the campfire, turning a heap of plain vegetables into a hearty stew to keep his loved ones fed. But the life of a cook was not for the faint of heart. Olsson learned to be efficient and clever, growing steadier with every full moon, and around the time he was coming into his own hide he met Saga; a wanderer, a bit like himself, on an endless journey. A friend, brief but no less appreciated, that would one day change his life. He kept travelling with his family after she left, expanding his skillset considerably. Olsson learned all he could. It was an artform to keep a whole group alive and healthy, especially whenever food was scarce. Olsson would look at all the things he wished he could have, too, like a bountiful garden with little bees swarming about, or a sturdy oven where he might try his hand at baking. There were a lot of limitations when they were constantly moving, a lot of things Olsson could not do, and this was part of the reason why Olsson did not hesitate nearly as much as he perhaps should have when the letter came for him. Saga requested his help—a favour, she wrote in her looping hand. She'd found herself a small band of dragons and they needed a chef. His parents were disappointed at first, when Olsson gathered the nerve to tell them he would be leaving, but they understood when he explained. It was time. Many dragons had come and gone over the years, their family an ever-shifting thing, and now it was Olsson's turn to branch out. And back then, Olsson hadn't even intended to linger there, but had told his parents he'd be back, one day, when the time was right for it. The time would never be right for it. Olsson tracked down Saga and her gathering of dragons, barely a dozen of them, and he never left. He fit right in, too. Olsson was a little rough around the edges back then, too, and wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants anytime soon, but one would have to look long and hard to find a dragon as genuinely kind as he. And Valhall embraced those genuine parts of him without hesitation, seeing that kindness tucked away behind the sullen silences and the charisma of a particularly colourful pebble. Olsson became their pillar, the constant in every day, and the one that kept things together. Good food helped calm tempers as evening rolled in, a good breakfast set them all up for a long day, and the odd treat from time to time brightened the mood of every dragon flying their banner. And he is proud of that; of having been able to make that difference for them. There is pride in knowing he is able to keep a whole clan fed and content, that his hard work pays off. Olsson might be as tough and hardy as the mountain itself, a dragon of action before all else and is reluctant to express his grievances at all, and he is also the vital ingredient that keeps Valhall running. The very lifeblood of a clan—a head chef they can rely on in even the darkest of times. | __ |
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H R I M F A X I Hrimfaxi is as much of a pest in the kitchens as the rats. The nocturne is often found hovering, chatting on about endless topics nobody cares for, and being outraged over Olsson's dinner menu. Despite it appearing to be a nuisance, Olsson rather enjoys the company, for Hrimfaxi is one of few that doesn't mind his silence and lacking conversational skills. | __ |
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S A G A Going back far beyond Valhall, Saga is one of his oldest friends, and one of his most trusted ones. They wandered the world together, once, and Olsson was overjoyed when she found him so many years after their parting. When he joined Valhall, she made sure to stick by his side like glue, helping him get used to what would become his new permanent home. | __ |
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H I L D The majority of Olsson's interactions with Hild consists of him pestering her into helping him cross-breed herbs to sate his curiosity and further his goal to create new spices for his cooking. Given his fondness for botany, it was impossible for the two of them not to interact, and Hild has grown reluctantly fond of him over the years. And maybe he bribes her with hot cocoa. | __ |
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
Feed this dragon Plants.
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Exalting Olsson 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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