DutchBaby

(#29469468)
Level 1 Dusthide
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Dusthide
This dragon is an ancient breed.
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style

Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.

Skin

Scene

Measurements

Length
2.13 m
Wingspan
1.57 m
Weight
30.94 kg

Genetics

Primary Gene
Cream
Basic
Cream
Basic
Secondary Gene
Peach
Basic
Peach
Basic
Tertiary Gene
Cornflower
Basic
Cornflower
Basic

Hatchday

Hatchday
Dec 22, 2016
(7 years)

Breed

Breed
Adult
Dusthide

Eye Type

Eye Type
Ice
Common
Level 1 Dusthide
EXP: 0 / 245
Scratch
Shred
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7

Lineage

Parents

  • none

Offspring

  • none

Biography

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F R O S T

Core Catalyst

Magic Nymph Winter Wind Tertiary Gene: Crackle
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Frost left his original clan when he was terribly young. He was not carried by his parents, nor ferried by some nefarious creature. He left of his own accord. It was a still, cold night in the ice fields and Frost was happily bundled with his parents and littermates. However, that calm and silence allowed something fragile on the wind whisper to him-- a voice, unknown to him, beckoned him out of that familial warmth and into the cold. His natural magic protected him from exposure, easily keeping him safe from the merciless winds and snow of his homeland. And he traveled, on and on, following that voice.

His journey soon led him to the verdant lands of the Gladekeeper and her massive Behemoth. In its shadow, he marched, not minding the way the native dragons and fauna shirked away from his cold aura, nor how they sniffed at his frozen footsteps. Who was this stranger that dared slight their home with the touch of cold death? They shunned him, even attacked, and yet he continued on. He was getting so close now, he couldn't just give up.

Frost's odd magic and the outright hostility he continued to provoke earned the attention of a nymph nearby. Full of nothing but curiosity and mischief, she quickly made herself a companion to the odd dragon. She poked and prodded him for information, wanting to know more of his strange powers over ice and why he would venture so far from his domain. When his answers were little more than shrugs and odd trills, she made it her mission to find those answers herself.



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The discovery of the Boneyard was the breakthrough Frost and his nymph companion needed. Still naught but a small child, almost all the dragons in the main living areas flocked to him, making sure he wasn't injured from his travels before immediately insisting he not leave the area. At first, it was for simple things. Lodging, food, the like. But the Voice was so strong here, so insistent. He tried going toward the shadowy wood that bordered the bright dens he toured, but was always stopped one way or another. Too young to simply bully his way through and besieged by too many dragons to proceed anyway, Frost had to acquiesce. He was stuck.

One night in particular, the Voice was as clear as someone speaking directly in his ear. Never before had it spoken instructions, nor true words he could understand; his entire life, it had sung to him, whispered in a strange tongue, or mourned. But here in this clan, it could directly speak. It guided him through the roaming patrols, through the sleeping dragons, further and further on with the little nymph at his side. Finally. He would finally find the source of the Voice, finally understand it.

Frost found himself in a land much like his homeland. Snow blanketed the ground, flurries obscured the view of dormant trees laden with ice. There were dragons here too, he could feel, but he was spurred onward, further. The further inward he traveled, the more the temperature dropped, the thicker the snow and ice, the harsher the wind. The nymph was lost in the blizzard. Even he, with all his magical protection, began to have trouble breathing and moving. But still he kept going, until all went white.

He awoke in the entrance to the Cold, his scales and feathers newly adorned with a strange pulsating power, several dragons watching over him carefully. Ice weaved patters in the air around him on its own. He felt stronger than he'd ever felt, but... his head was empty. Where was the Voice? It had been so strong, had always been with him... Where...?



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Bio template by @Mibella, find it here.

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