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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
20.12 m
Wingspan
19.24 m
Weight
8867.8 kg
Genetics
Grapefruit
Iridescent
Iridescent
Jade
Shimmer
Shimmer
Mint
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Lineage
Biography
Barry the Exile collapses at the bank of a pond, completely and utterly defeated.
The wounds run deep. His breath comes hard and heavy, his scaled chest rising and falling as he lay there. A peaceful wind rolls through the forest, stirring the lavender branches overhead, lulling him close to death.
He certainly can't say he didn't live. He has roamed Sornieth for years, wandering in and out of town after town. He has guided young clans in the Zephyr Steppes. He has won a place as an esteemed philosopher in his homeland, the Sunbeam Ruins. He was fought as a warrior in the Scarred Wasteland. He has seen war and change, pain and hope, love and despair, envy and humility, sacrifice and new beginnings-- and now it has at last done him in.
He can't say he has regrets. Really, he can't. Everything he loves, he has explored. Everything he hates, he has moved on from. He has embraced wisdom and courage and remembrance and celebration. He has loved well, and recovered well, and given in to the reality of life. What can he say he's missed out on?
Visions flicker through his mind. Skydancer lovers. Hatchlings in times of strife. Those he couldn't help. The world still suffering, still turning, still revolving slowly towards its end.
He couldn't save them all.
He has hurt. He has turned away those in need. He has injured Sornieth, as it has injured him. Does he deserve an undignified death here, after all? Pursued relentlessly by Shade-possessed wolves, caught off-guard, belittled, humiliated, stricken down by an anticlimax? Left alone by dark waters in the deepest part of the Star Wood Strand, so close to the Arcanist, yet obscured in a corner where he cannot possibly see him? Dying unguarded, to become part of a hideous Emperor that will torture the land and tear a battlefield in two?
A single tear slips down Barry's jaw. So I have lived, but if only I could live a little longer.
His tear does not disappear as a drop upon the ground. Rather, it rolls on the grass, down the bank, to where it touches the water.
The demigoddess awakens.
The wounds run deep. His breath comes hard and heavy, his scaled chest rising and falling as he lay there. A peaceful wind rolls through the forest, stirring the lavender branches overhead, lulling him close to death.
He certainly can't say he didn't live. He has roamed Sornieth for years, wandering in and out of town after town. He has guided young clans in the Zephyr Steppes. He has won a place as an esteemed philosopher in his homeland, the Sunbeam Ruins. He was fought as a warrior in the Scarred Wasteland. He has seen war and change, pain and hope, love and despair, envy and humility, sacrifice and new beginnings-- and now it has at last done him in.
He can't say he has regrets. Really, he can't. Everything he loves, he has explored. Everything he hates, he has moved on from. He has embraced wisdom and courage and remembrance and celebration. He has loved well, and recovered well, and given in to the reality of life. What can he say he's missed out on?
Visions flicker through his mind. Skydancer lovers. Hatchlings in times of strife. Those he couldn't help. The world still suffering, still turning, still revolving slowly towards its end.
He couldn't save them all.
He has hurt. He has turned away those in need. He has injured Sornieth, as it has injured him. Does he deserve an undignified death here, after all? Pursued relentlessly by Shade-possessed wolves, caught off-guard, belittled, humiliated, stricken down by an anticlimax? Left alone by dark waters in the deepest part of the Star Wood Strand, so close to the Arcanist, yet obscured in a corner where he cannot possibly see him? Dying unguarded, to become part of a hideous Emperor that will torture the land and tear a battlefield in two?
A single tear slips down Barry's jaw. So I have lived, but if only I could live a little longer.
His tear does not disappear as a drop upon the ground. Rather, it rolls on the grass, down the bank, to where it touches the water.
The demigoddess awakens.
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Exalting Barry 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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