Tyralian
(#35220541)
Level 25 Imperial
Familiar
Venom Ring
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 49/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Earth.
Male Imperial
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
28.8 m
Wingspan
19.62 m
Weight
8984.1 kg
Genetics
Midnight
Petals
Petals
Midnight
Butterfly
Butterfly
Midnight
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
128
AGI
9
DEF
6
QCK
52
INT
8
VIT
11
MND
6
Biography
TYRALIAN
THE CRYSTALLINE MAGE
THE CRYSTALLINE MAGE
Art by Hanmonster
The meeting was drawing to a close, and discussion of defensive strategy and mercenary assignments had given way to idle chatter. Tyralian, Archmage of the High Council, knew that he had to speak up soon. As loath as he was to broach the unpleasant topic again, he knew it was a necessary thing. Clearing his throat slightly, the slim, dark-eyed sorcerer leaned forward in his chair and addressed Lord Auroris Frostmane, his earnest tone belying his internal reluctance.
"My lord, I think it is high time to deal with the young rogue Azain. He is dangerous, and I think it is folly to leave yourself so friendless in these uncertain times. Something must be done about him now."
It was not the first time that he had voiced this opinion, and it was evident that Auroris did not seem particularly perturbed by such words. Instead, the golden-haired mercenary king exchanged slightly amused glances with his Master of the Treasury - Sylan, a delicate youth with eyes that seemed almost too large in his pointed face. Sylan offered Frostmane an exasperated shrug - they had all heard this before. "Again, this?" said Auroris lightly. "Tyralian, my friend, you have grown overly suspicious."
"Tyralian has always been overly suspicious," barked Seraf with a derisive snort. The lean knight was sprawled languidly in his chair, one foot propped up on the council table with a casual disrespect that only the closest friend of the king might afford. "I think it'd be a great deal stranger if he wasn't fretting about something or another." Seraf, one of five who sat on Lord Frostmane's High Council, served as Auroris' Captain of the Guard. He was a strikingly handsome dragon, and took on an even handsomer human form, with features so sharp and elegant that even the glittering ice crystals that adorned Auroris' halls paled in comparison to his beauty. His fine looks were only surpassed by his fighting prowess; few could best Seraf in single combat.
Perhaps such gifts fueled Seraf's extreme arrogance as well, thought Tyralian bitterly, as Seraf flashed him a cocky half-smile from across the table. Tyralian was the eldest of the Council, but had been the last to join it. Seraf, Amari, and Sylan had been close companions with Auroris since an early age, and Nyari had pledged her sword soon after the mercenary clan's formation. It was only Tyralian's expertise in the magical arts that had earned him the final Council seat, and even then, he felt constantly overshadowed by his peers.
He could not let himself be drowned out this time, though. Not when so much was at stake. "My lord, Azain is planning a coup," he said stubbornly. "There are serpents in this clan - those who would have your throat torn open and Azain on the throne. If you send away those who you know are loyal to you to fight for other clans, you will not have a clan yourself by the time they return."
"We are a mercenary company- this is what we do," said Auroris coolly. "If I do not hire out my best fighters, then we all go hungry, and dreams of returning to the summer lands will only be that. I know Azain is rebellious, but he is young and hot-headed, and that is to be expected. The lad has been through...much and more. He would not turn against me."
"You speak with a confidence that I cannot share," said Tyralian angrily. "You welcomed him to this clan, gave him your love and your protection, and he plans to murder you. You are blind if you do not see the poison spreading through this clan. He and his followers bow to you with malice in their eyes, fight for you with reluctance in their hearts. If you think they will die for you, then you are a fool. How can you turn your eyes from this obvious threat, when you have been betrayed before?"
"Hold your tongue," interrupted Amari fiercely, his pale, green eyes aflame with anger. Seated at Auroris' right, the dark-haired ranger was easily one of the mercenary king's most fearsome advocates: only Seraf and Auroris' own mate, Zerya, could boast of a closer relationship to the king. "You are speaking to the King - you will show respect, or shut your impudent mouth, mage."
"Respecting Lord Frostmane won't keep him alive," retorted Tyralian, feeling a surge of annoyance flare within him. "My lord - I beg you, heed my words!" He turned to the man he considered not only his king, but his friend, and fell to his knees. When he raised his head, he felt a rush of hope as he saw a shadow of doubt flicker in Auroris' pale eyes for the first time.
After a few tense seconds, Auroris sighed and clapped Tyralian on the shoulder. "Get up - get up, I say. There is no need for that. I'm no fool, Tyralian. I know Azain is trouble, but I think you overestimate him. Still, so you can rest easy, I will send Azain to serve Lord Nazoran for a year. Nazoran is a hard master - perhaps Azain will grow to learn some respect in that time. Furthermore, I will send his closest friends to fight for different clans, too - they will be further from each other than my own friends are to me. Your loyalty is admirable, friend, but you must put some faith in me as well. I know what I am doing."
"Do you?" Tyralian wanted to shout, but he held his tongue. Perhaps sending Azain away would be good enough for the time being. Meanwhile, he would make sure to keep close to Auroris. Who could be trusted anymore in these times? He eyed the smirking Seraf and the others, distrust flooding into his heart suddenly. Perhaps he was growing overly suspicious, but that was certainly a better fate than death.
Art by XJSX
The meeting was drawing to a close, and discussion of defensive strategy and mercenary assignments had given way to idle chatter. Tyralian, Archmage of the High Council, knew that he had to speak up soon. As loath as he was to broach the unpleasant topic again, he knew it was a necessary thing. Clearing his throat slightly, the slim, dark-eyed sorcerer leaned forward in his chair and addressed Lord Auroris Frostmane, his earnest tone belying his internal reluctance.
"My lord, I think it is high time to deal with the young rogue Azain. He is dangerous, and I think it is folly to leave yourself so friendless in these uncertain times. Something must be done about him now."
It was not the first time that he had voiced this opinion, and it was evident that Auroris did not seem particularly perturbed by such words. Instead, the golden-haired mercenary king exchanged slightly amused glances with his Master of the Treasury - Sylan, a delicate youth with eyes that seemed almost too large in his pointed face. Sylan offered Frostmane an exasperated shrug - they had all heard this before. "Again, this?" said Auroris lightly. "Tyralian, my friend, you have grown overly suspicious."
"Tyralian has always been overly suspicious," barked Seraf with a derisive snort. The lean knight was sprawled languidly in his chair, one foot propped up on the council table with a casual disrespect that only the closest friend of the king might afford. "I think it'd be a great deal stranger if he wasn't fretting about something or another." Seraf, one of five who sat on Lord Frostmane's High Council, served as Auroris' Captain of the Guard. He was a strikingly handsome dragon, and took on an even handsomer human form, with features so sharp and elegant that even the glittering ice crystals that adorned Auroris' halls paled in comparison to his beauty. His fine looks were only surpassed by his fighting prowess; few could best Seraf in single combat.
Perhaps such gifts fueled Seraf's extreme arrogance as well, thought Tyralian bitterly, as Seraf flashed him a cocky half-smile from across the table. Tyralian was the eldest of the Council, but had been the last to join it. Seraf, Amari, and Sylan had been close companions with Auroris since an early age, and Nyari had pledged her sword soon after the mercenary clan's formation. It was only Tyralian's expertise in the magical arts that had earned him the final Council seat, and even then, he felt constantly overshadowed by his peers.
He could not let himself be drowned out this time, though. Not when so much was at stake. "My lord, Azain is planning a coup," he said stubbornly. "There are serpents in this clan - those who would have your throat torn open and Azain on the throne. If you send away those who you know are loyal to you to fight for other clans, you will not have a clan yourself by the time they return."
"We are a mercenary company- this is what we do," said Auroris coolly. "If I do not hire out my best fighters, then we all go hungry, and dreams of returning to the summer lands will only be that. I know Azain is rebellious, but he is young and hot-headed, and that is to be expected. The lad has been through...much and more. He would not turn against me."
"You speak with a confidence that I cannot share," said Tyralian angrily. "You welcomed him to this clan, gave him your love and your protection, and he plans to murder you. You are blind if you do not see the poison spreading through this clan. He and his followers bow to you with malice in their eyes, fight for you with reluctance in their hearts. If you think they will die for you, then you are a fool. How can you turn your eyes from this obvious threat, when you have been betrayed before?"
"Hold your tongue," interrupted Amari fiercely, his pale, green eyes aflame with anger. Seated at Auroris' right, the dark-haired ranger was easily one of the mercenary king's most fearsome advocates: only Seraf and Auroris' own mate, Zerya, could boast of a closer relationship to the king. "You are speaking to the King - you will show respect, or shut your impudent mouth, mage."
"Respecting Lord Frostmane won't keep him alive," retorted Tyralian, feeling a surge of annoyance flare within him. "My lord - I beg you, heed my words!" He turned to the man he considered not only his king, but his friend, and fell to his knees. When he raised his head, he felt a rush of hope as he saw a shadow of doubt flicker in Auroris' pale eyes for the first time.
After a few tense seconds, Auroris sighed and clapped Tyralian on the shoulder. "Get up - get up, I say. There is no need for that. I'm no fool, Tyralian. I know Azain is trouble, but I think you overestimate him. Still, so you can rest easy, I will send Azain to serve Lord Nazoran for a year. Nazoran is a hard master - perhaps Azain will grow to learn some respect in that time. Furthermore, I will send his closest friends to fight for different clans, too - they will be further from each other than my own friends are to me. Your loyalty is admirable, friend, but you must put some faith in me as well. I know what I am doing."
"Do you?" Tyralian wanted to shout, but he held his tongue. Perhaps sending Azain away would be good enough for the time being. Meanwhile, he would make sure to keep close to Auroris. Who could be trusted anymore in these times? He eyed the smirking Seraf and the others, distrust flooding into his heart suddenly. Perhaps he was growing overly suspicious, but that was certainly a better fate than death.
Art by XJSX
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Exalting Tyralian 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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