Ancel
(#33503951)
he/him
Familiar
Ghostly Rat Lord
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.68 m
Wingspan
3.99 m
Weight
497.91 kg
Genetics
White
Tiger
Tiger
Metals
Shimmer
Shimmer
Metals
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Skydancer
EXP: 901 / 27676
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
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i.
Ancel was born to a proud and ancient plague clan of warlords and barbarians. Compared to his siblings, he hatched pale and thin, with weak wings and spindly legs. He would've been culled at birth, if he hadn't taken one look at the clan's leader and uttered the precise time and location of a large-scale attack from a neighboring clan. Two dawns from this, the eastern horizon will blacken with blood. Scarmonger charges. On no account was Ancel wrong, and without his warning and the days of preparation it offered, his clan would have suffered grievous losses.
His life was spared, and Ancel taken from his family to be raised in the warlord's tent with his own children, but this did not mean he was accepted among the clan, or even welcome. As he grew, Ancel remained frail and sickly. Even short flights or walks around the encampment left him out of breath, and he lacked the hardy immune system characteristic of his plague-born brethren, so was constantly ill. He slept fitfully for most of the day, and spent his evenings journaling about his dreams, in which glimpses of prophecy writhed their way through his subconscious. His clanmates neither liked nor trusted him, and constantly teased him for being dead weight, but the warlord kept him around like a barely-tolerated pet, because his clairvoyance was an invaluable tool around the strategists' table.
One night, Ancel had a dream more vivid than any before it, one that changed his life. A handsome young skydancer hung suspended over a dark pool reflecting glimpses of impossibly bright sunlight. He was being twisted like a puppet in the claws of an enormous, bejeweled bogsneak. She was whispering in his ear, and with each word, the light in the pool would dim and the skydancer's body would grow limp. She held a braid of burning herbs under his nose, and the sour-sweet smoke coiled to obscure the pair. His feathers were falling out, his face becoming gaunt and distorted, but as he breathed the smoke, he looked dazed with euphoria. Ancel tried to call to him, and the skydancer turned slowly, bones creaking with the effort. Their eyes met, and in a flash, Ancel understood who the two dragons were, what their relationship was, where they lived, and that he needed to find them to prevent--
Ancel woke up in a fever and immediately began packing his things. He had to find the other skydancer, had to save him, somehow. He made it halfway to the guard towers at the edge of his clan's encampment before his escape plan was found out.
His clanmates, who had been profiting off his talents his whole life, showed little mercy in their beating. He was beset by nestmates and nemeses alike, clawed and bitten and battered within an inch of his life, then dragged deep into the abiding boneyard and dumped for the scavengers to find. It was truly a miracle that Ancel survived. Somehow, he managed to limp his way through the desert until he came across a somewhat friendly settlement. They were wary to host a stranger, as many plague denizens have reason to be, but they gave him a few days' food and water, and allowed him to wash his wounds and sleep at their gates before sending him on his way.
ii.
Weeks later, and half-dead, Ancel collapsed in front of the Galehart clan's hearth, where he knew in his heart he would find the skydancer from his dreams-- and the wicked bogsneak tormenting him. But first, he was in dire need of healing. Turns out, one of his legs had been broken when his clan had evicted him, and he had walked across half of Sorineth on it. Infection had set in to the bone, and the leg had to be amputated. Ancel spent days under the healers' watchful gaze, where he recanted his story as he was nourished back onto his remaining feet.
All of the healers recognized the dragons from his dream: Leo, the skydancer, was widely considered a raving lunatic. He believed he was the reincarnated leader of an ancient light cult, and claimed to have apocalyptic visions of his purpose, which were often fueled by drugs and blood rituals. The bogsneak, Angrboda, was regarded as the most dangerous dragon in Galehart territory. Her motives were mysterious, but she had taken Leo under her wing and was encouraging his delusions, manipulating him for some nefarious end. Many had tried to get through to Leo and break Angrboda's hold on him, but he remained secluded with her in his den, refusing any intervention.
Scarred, and still severely weakened, but with his resolve steeled, Ancel made his way to Leo's den. It was just as his dream had shown him: a dark, smokey stone chamber, with tapestries and tablets lining a dark scrying pool in the center. He wasn't sure what to expect when he met Leo, but recognition was pretty low on Ancel's list. "You..." Leo rasped, raising a bandaged claw. "I called for help and saw you. I wasn't sure you'd come, or if you were even real..." Angrboda got between them with a snarl, and asked with false saccharine politeness what they could help Ancel with, and could it possibly wait? They were very busy. Silently, Leo brushed past her and approached Ancel, gazing deep into his eyes. "I'm so glad to see you. You're just as beautiful in person. Angrboda, can you leave us for a moment?"
It was easy over the next few months for Leo to confess love at first sight. He was affable and good at conversation, and had much more practice than Ancel living in a clan where emotional vulnerability wasn't a death sentence. Ancel knew it as well as Leo, had known since they first connected through the dream that they were fated mates, but it took much more time for him to confess it. Instead, he approached their relationship as a duty to help Leo cut ties with Angrboda, which was easier said than done. Leo lacked Ancel's gifts, and had a habit of relying on hallucinogenic plants to scry the past and future. Angrboda had taken it upon herself to make sure she was the only supplier of those plants in the area, and to ensure that Leo used them often enough to grow dependent on them.
There was certainly no love lost with Angrboda, and indeed Leo had been searching for an out with her for quite some time, but the physiological effects of addiction turned days into weeks into months of close supervision and distraction from Leo's cravings, and more than one urgent trip to the healer's hearth. During this time, and even after sobriety settled in to stay, the pair were nigh inseparable. Leo told Ancel more about his work resurrecting the organization he called The Darkened Sun, of which scant historical record remained. By comparing notes, they realized that some of Ancel's prophecies, which he'd written off as meaningless fragments, dovetailed perfectly with Leo's findings about The Darkened Sun. And so, the exiled prophet found himself making the Galehart Clan home, and in time, calling Leo both colleague and lover.
__________________________________________________________________
_..
Ancel was born to a proud and ancient plague clan of warlords and barbarians. Compared to his siblings, he hatched pale and thin, with weak wings and spindly legs. He would've been culled at birth, if he hadn't taken one look at the clan's leader and uttered the precise time and location of a large-scale attack from a neighboring clan. Two dawns from this, the eastern horizon will blacken with blood. Scarmonger charges. On no account was Ancel wrong, and without his warning and the days of preparation it offered, his clan would have suffered grievous losses.
His life was spared, and Ancel taken from his family to be raised in the warlord's tent with his own children, but this did not mean he was accepted among the clan, or even welcome. As he grew, Ancel remained frail and sickly. Even short flights or walks around the encampment left him out of breath, and he lacked the hardy immune system characteristic of his plague-born brethren, so was constantly ill. He slept fitfully for most of the day, and spent his evenings journaling about his dreams, in which glimpses of prophecy writhed their way through his subconscious. His clanmates neither liked nor trusted him, and constantly teased him for being dead weight, but the warlord kept him around like a barely-tolerated pet, because his clairvoyance was an invaluable tool around the strategists' table.
One night, Ancel had a dream more vivid than any before it, one that changed his life. A handsome young skydancer hung suspended over a dark pool reflecting glimpses of impossibly bright sunlight. He was being twisted like a puppet in the claws of an enormous, bejeweled bogsneak. She was whispering in his ear, and with each word, the light in the pool would dim and the skydancer's body would grow limp. She held a braid of burning herbs under his nose, and the sour-sweet smoke coiled to obscure the pair. His feathers were falling out, his face becoming gaunt and distorted, but as he breathed the smoke, he looked dazed with euphoria. Ancel tried to call to him, and the skydancer turned slowly, bones creaking with the effort. Their eyes met, and in a flash, Ancel understood who the two dragons were, what their relationship was, where they lived, and that he needed to find them to prevent--
Ancel woke up in a fever and immediately began packing his things. He had to find the other skydancer, had to save him, somehow. He made it halfway to the guard towers at the edge of his clan's encampment before his escape plan was found out.
His clanmates, who had been profiting off his talents his whole life, showed little mercy in their beating. He was beset by nestmates and nemeses alike, clawed and bitten and battered within an inch of his life, then dragged deep into the abiding boneyard and dumped for the scavengers to find. It was truly a miracle that Ancel survived. Somehow, he managed to limp his way through the desert until he came across a somewhat friendly settlement. They were wary to host a stranger, as many plague denizens have reason to be, but they gave him a few days' food and water, and allowed him to wash his wounds and sleep at their gates before sending him on his way.
« those who seek the darkened sun will always find it... »
ii.
Weeks later, and half-dead, Ancel collapsed in front of the Galehart clan's hearth, where he knew in his heart he would find the skydancer from his dreams-- and the wicked bogsneak tormenting him. But first, he was in dire need of healing. Turns out, one of his legs had been broken when his clan had evicted him, and he had walked across half of Sorineth on it. Infection had set in to the bone, and the leg had to be amputated. Ancel spent days under the healers' watchful gaze, where he recanted his story as he was nourished back onto his remaining feet.
All of the healers recognized the dragons from his dream: Leo, the skydancer, was widely considered a raving lunatic. He believed he was the reincarnated leader of an ancient light cult, and claimed to have apocalyptic visions of his purpose, which were often fueled by drugs and blood rituals. The bogsneak, Angrboda, was regarded as the most dangerous dragon in Galehart territory. Her motives were mysterious, but she had taken Leo under her wing and was encouraging his delusions, manipulating him for some nefarious end. Many had tried to get through to Leo and break Angrboda's hold on him, but he remained secluded with her in his den, refusing any intervention.
Scarred, and still severely weakened, but with his resolve steeled, Ancel made his way to Leo's den. It was just as his dream had shown him: a dark, smokey stone chamber, with tapestries and tablets lining a dark scrying pool in the center. He wasn't sure what to expect when he met Leo, but recognition was pretty low on Ancel's list. "You..." Leo rasped, raising a bandaged claw. "I called for help and saw you. I wasn't sure you'd come, or if you were even real..." Angrboda got between them with a snarl, and asked with false saccharine politeness what they could help Ancel with, and could it possibly wait? They were very busy. Silently, Leo brushed past her and approached Ancel, gazing deep into his eyes. "I'm so glad to see you. You're just as beautiful in person. Angrboda, can you leave us for a moment?"
It was easy over the next few months for Leo to confess love at first sight. He was affable and good at conversation, and had much more practice than Ancel living in a clan where emotional vulnerability wasn't a death sentence. Ancel knew it as well as Leo, had known since they first connected through the dream that they were fated mates, but it took much more time for him to confess it. Instead, he approached their relationship as a duty to help Leo cut ties with Angrboda, which was easier said than done. Leo lacked Ancel's gifts, and had a habit of relying on hallucinogenic plants to scry the past and future. Angrboda had taken it upon herself to make sure she was the only supplier of those plants in the area, and to ensure that Leo used them often enough to grow dependent on them.
There was certainly no love lost with Angrboda, and indeed Leo had been searching for an out with her for quite some time, but the physiological effects of addiction turned days into weeks into months of close supervision and distraction from Leo's cravings, and more than one urgent trip to the healer's hearth. During this time, and even after sobriety settled in to stay, the pair were nigh inseparable. Leo told Ancel more about his work resurrecting the organization he called The Darkened Sun, of which scant historical record remained. By comparing notes, they realized that some of Ancel's prophecies, which he'd written off as meaningless fragments, dovetailed perfectly with Leo's findings about The Darkened Sun. And so, the exiled prophet found himself making the Galehart Clan home, and in time, calling Leo both colleague and lover.
__________________________________________________________________
_..
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