Ysandre
(#31583172)
Level 25 Spiral
Familiar
Candy Cockatrice
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Spiral
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.05 m
Wingspan
1.8 m
Weight
51.45 kg
Genetics
Sky
Skink
Skink
Rose
Butterfly
Butterfly
Rose
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Spiral
Max Level
STR
129
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
50
INT
5
VIT
13
MND
5
Biography
Adaptable
Enigmatic Insecure 
Stats
Job: Warrior One of the many warriors in the barracks, though unaffiliated to the others.  
|
The Renegade
The barracks are an odd place in the dam. Crystals, scrolls and banners dot the walls, banners of a clan that is not this one. The light here is not the same warm amber of everywhere else. It's vibrant, glowing purple, like the air is full of arcane energy. Even amongst this place of misfits and curiosities, the barracks stands out. The dragons here are beautiful and terrifying, with scales that crack and splinter into crystal, armour covered in engraved runes, and halos of brilliant burning light that make hackles rise up at the sight of them. And then, amongst these unnatural beings is the most out of place thing possible; a small, unassuming spiral in gentle pastel colours. Her red eyes and the emblem above her head designate her as a plague dragon rather than the overwhelming arcane presence of the others, and she stares off into the distance, looking far away from the world. As you approach, her eyes flick up to you, and she smiles politely.
"Can I help you?"
Ysandre is the only dragon in the barracks who isn't connected to the far-flung arcane clan the others are from. (Nobody is sure entirely what she is connected to, though.) She simply turned up one day, offering her martial skills in return for "A favor paid to my sister, long ago." (Nobody has any idea who this sister was.) She's a good soldier, but that's about all that anyone knows about her. She keeps very much to herself, doing what she's asked and otherwise keeping a very low profile. She's very good at that. Ysandre was never meant to live in the shadowlands. Ysandre was meant to be a warrior without peer. Ysandre's name should have been carved into the tallest bones of the Wyrmwound for the glory she brought the Plaguebringer in battle. But fate does not always give you what you dream of. Her clan sent her off to fight for the Plaguebringer as soon as she was old enough to hold a sword. She did not break like many dragons did; she was strong and brave and vicious. She fought ferociously in every battle she was given, winning by all means necessary until the day came when she and her compatriots were sent to fight in the most glorious of conquests; to fight the dragons of the Viridian Labyrinth, to win the battle between the Paguebringer and the Gladekeeper. Weeks turned to months turned to years. She fought and fought, but there was no ground gained. Dragons fell, and new dragons came. Again and again. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was endless. She fought, and fought, and fought, until one day when she was sore and tired and a tundra in gleaming armour charged at her and she raised her claws to strike- And in his gleaming armour she saw a face reflected, and stopped in her tracks. Who was that dragon? Was that her? But, they looked the same age as her mother. She wasn't that old. She'd been a teenager, last she saw her face. ...How long had she been here? The tundra stopped only a foot away from her as she stood motionless, still staring at herself. He looked at her, confused, and poked her with his spear. Broken from her trance, she was brought back to the reality of the situation, and looked around. She couldn't say she'd ever paid attention to the scenery here, but now that her focus on the fight had been broken she finally noticed what she'd been missing all this time. Trees were scarred with pox, but kept growing. Jagged bones shot from the ground, but were tangled in ivy. Time was passing, and nobody was winning. This wasn't glory, this was futility. If the gods themselves couldn't destroy each other, what were dragons like her trying to do here? Fighting against other clans made sense, since clans could lose. A clan could run out of warriors. But it seemed impossible for an entire flight to run out. The tundra, still baffled by the sudden placidity of his opponent, poked her again. She was much younger than him, and perhaps it was that reason he was merciful and didn't take the opportunity to strike her down. He put a hand on her shoulder, and asked her if she knew where she was. She thought about that for a moment, and looked back the way she'd come. "You know," she said, "I think I might be lost." And with that, she took her sword and started to walk away. A few weeks later, when she was in dragonhome, safely away from the battle and could see the road that lead home did she realise what she had done. Deserting a battle, futile as it was, was still a crime. When the others found out she'd gone, they'd send people after her, surely. She couldn't go back to the scarred wasteland after abandoning a battle. She'd be branded a coward and thrown back into the battle again. So where could she go? She would not stay here. The open, sparse expanse of the earthern realms made her nervous. It was too exposed for her liking. But Dragonhome wasn't surrounded by many other regions like the scarred wasteland was. There were only three ways to go. One lead back to the Viridian Labyrinth, so she would not go there. One lead home, so she could not go there. The only path left was the path of shadow, so it was the one she had to take. The gloom was unfamiliar, but the skies weren't so uncomfortably empty as in Dragonhome. There were many trees and brambles. And in the darkness, perhaps she could be hidden. She took the well-travelled road that the traders did, following a glittering caravan all the way to the dam. The sign outside said lost dragons were welcome. She was more lost than she'd ever been, so perhaps this was a sign from fate. She told them she was here to fulfill a favour given to a travelling dragon long ago. It was a lie, but it would do. They had a barracks here, with a small retinue of dragons. They were strange but it was familiar enough to be a comfort, so she stayed there, hoping that perhaps they would not find her here, and she could stay hidden from her people. And she has been here ever since. |
Auto-coded bio by Poisonedpaper
Bought from Wispwillow Warriors! A charity service offering discounted level 25s to shadowlings looking to get into the coliseum!
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Ysandre to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.