SkellieTheRedd » Lair » Ortoros

Ortoros

(#35155741)

*He's glaring intensely at you* ...

Familiar

Plumed Wintertail

Energy: 45/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

28.43 m

Wingspan

24.72 m

Weight

6709.2 kg

Genetics

Leaf
Iridescent

Crimson
Shimmer

Lemon
Lace

Hatchday

Aug 14, 2017
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Imperial

Eye Type

Arcane
Common

Level 25 Imperial

Max Level

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

112

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

Biography

(UP TO 6 IMAGES HERE, 7 IF WITHOUT VISTA)
|Ortoros, Trial Master

|| "You will find me to be the closest thing to safety where we are going. Expect nothing greater."
Exaltee Trainer | Shadow of the Elder | The Jaded Raven

|Relations || Friend: Ifrit || Adopted Offspring: Vyndlyn, Aneurin ||

|Information:

Ortoros is one of Ifrit's closest companions, he's had his back for as long as Arthur has, and has never wavered or failed him. Besides being tasked with watching over the training exalted up until their departure from the clan to the Icewarden, and his callous disposition, not much is known about him outside The Coucil's members. He is far too used to hearing younger dragons whispering their theories and gossip over his past or who he really is behind the mystery, about what he really does in his free time, and were he less cynical he may have found their increasingly wild guessing amusing.
What no one knows about him is that under his thick scales and stony stare, he does care for his clanmates. He mourns their losses just as the rest and is proud when they succeed, he remembers the personalities and names of the youth he trains into warriors and misses them once they leave, even if it's all done silently while he is alone, expression unchanging.
He has come to understand that he is incapable of vocalizing or directly expressing his affection for his adopted children, but that does not exclude him from feeling remorse for all the times Vyndlyn or Aneurin wilted under his harsh glower and indifferent words as hatchlings, when all they were looking for was the barest hint of a smile or praise. It does not take away his regret over being unable to tell them he loved them in the moments where his hardened heart softened watching them as they grew up. However Ortoros also knows they have both moved past those experiences and know how he really feels due to his paternal actions. Even still, years later, he's reduced to choking out neutral comments and observations instead of compliments or simple 'I love you's, and years later it's still one of the few things that cause him noticeable discomfort.
With how ferociously he fights and how vehemently he protects his charges, it's easy for others to think he's truly consumed by a rage he isn't actually feeling. He isn't one to flaunt his strength, but he is more than aware that a lifetime of combat has made him something to behold, and he isn't interested in assuaging any intimidation other's may feel towards him.
In a sense Ifrit and Ortoros know each other better than even themselves, they do not often speak of the things that trouble them, but somehow they can just tell, and they do not need to say much to get their points across. Ifrit is the only other being Ortoros can confide in with his round about way of being vulnerable and vice versa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ifrit had dropped the two Banescale young into his care with only a few words of direction Ortoros remained silent and offered no complaints, his stare radiating his displeasure and boring into Ifrit's skull as the older left them there, unaffected by the intensity, but inside a rare kind of anger began tearing at and burning up his insides.
The rage, thought not at Ifrit or the two hatchlings that had somehow made their way into the Cloudscrape Crags, but at something he couldn't identify, was something wild and unmanageable, irrational, he wanted to tear the lair apart with his own claws, lash out at anyone who would try to stop him, anything to get the feeling out of his body. Instead, he turned and made his way to the corner of the lairs main chamber, the hatchlings tripping over each other to follow him.

Why him? He wasn't the most abrasive dragon in the clan, nor the most aggressive, but he was amongst their kind, kept in the outskirts, though mostly by his own volition, and viewed as unapproachable by his clanmates and strangers alike. It was his job to train the exalted before they were sent to the Ice Warden, but otherwise he worked alone, kept to himself, and spoke so little some wondered if he could speak at all.
He couldn't understand it, but he could sense that this task was given to him and him alone, that he wasn't supposed to push this off onto someone who, in his own opinion, would be far more suited for rearing children than him.
Was this a test from Ifrit? Or was this an attempt between friends to give Ortoros something to connect with? Something to hold onto?

Between his front legs where he laid, the two Banescale hatchlings wrestled, the smaller one with verdant eyes worming his way out from under the other and standing on his's toes, nipping at Ortoros's chin and tugging at his fur, pulling him out of his thoughts. He did not respond to the hatchlings attempt at getting him to play with them, instead tilting his head back and out of the Banescale's reach. The whining was short lived and ignored easily enough, the play fighting recommencing as the bright eyed hatchling regained her sibling's attention.

Ortoros was struck with a sudden thought that brought a grimace to his face. Names. He could only call them hatchlings for so long and it would be strange to refer to them by their eyes alone. He would have to name them something.

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Exalting Ortoros to the service of the Icewarden 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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Name

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Name

Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
Names can only contain letters.