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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.74 m
Wingspan
6.27 m
Weight
644.62 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Ripple
Ripple
Obsidian
Daub
Daub
White
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
There's a legend passed down through the generations from trainer to exaltee, if you see a hooded figure with antlers and pitch black feathered wings you won't survive dominance. They use it as motivation to help dragons become strong and sure of themselves for the battle to come. No one knows if anyone has seen it, since no one ever returns from exaltation.
Namira does not remember much of their previous life, many years have gone by and their physical form has deteriorated to the point where they're only just a ghostly form of their original body. Their spirit has manifested itself to be able to be strong enough to hold their clothes in the shape of a dragon. Namira only remembers one thing revealing a slight clue to who they were when alive, memories of a pearl. Maybe finding it again would help them remember who they were, so the search began. After a while of wandering they came upon a clan which sent dragons off to something called dominance, a huge battle between all the elements and beast clans. There was a huge battle field of dragons and beasts fighting one another, a constant storm of chaos commanded by the eleven deities and the great harpy Talona.
Where there was life, there was death
With the swarm of bodies tearing and biting at one another, it was hard to tell from friend and foe. The only indication for dragons was the eye color. Beast clan members where the easiest to spot and they steered clear from them. One thing they noticed was other dragons with light blueish gray eyes, belonging to the Icewarden, perhaps they were an ice dragon when they were alive. It was hard to tell considering their eyes were a dull gray and lost any color they had long ago. After a bit of maneuvering through the masses, they spotted a dragon about the same build as them and with a pearl. With a bit of patiently listening and observing some of the camps at night, they learned they were called Pearlcatchers. Finally a clue to who they were, they sat and listened to the stories of their kind. Apparently pearls are very important, believed to hold the very soul of a dragon. Perhaps if they found their pearl they'd be able to regain their previous memories. The search for it began, they finally had a purpose.
Would this even work
What they did not know is how long it would take to locate their pearl. Scavenging through the bodies to find whole pearls was a relentless and mind numbing task. Finding theirs is what kept them going. Soon their mind also began to finally corrode, only thinking of pearls. What little sanity was left was fading away quickly and the only thing that helped keep it was looking after the dying pearlcatchers. They were left alone to die since they could no longer fight. But they saw this as an opportunity, being so close to the edge of death meant they could see the ghostly figure looming over them. It was an odd comfort or a terrifying experience for the fighter to deal with. Either having slight conversation with something out of this world or screaming from fear and finally succumbing to their injuries. Others asked to be put out of their misery and after a few times of hesitation, they finally can do it without second thought. It was a bit morbid but it was a job they were used to now. Helping fallen pearlcatchers and other warriors move on and trying to find their pearl was their fuel for existing now.
Why do I do this
Searching, guiding, and scavenging, that was their life now. They did not seem to mind it, except the stories the clan members would think of bothered them, but it did not matter. They would see them soon either way. Only appearing for a quick glance to see if the dragon was a pearlcatcher or not, no other reason to really stick around a living being. But of course they kept on looking for their lost pearl as the years dragged on. The only comforting thing was finding a moonstone from time to time from young dragons carrying them as a good luck charm. They resembled pearls, but did nothing to really fill the void inside.
Mercy killings and searching for their lost soul, a sad existence for a dragon that once was
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Exalting Namira to the service of the Windsinger 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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