Riane
(#35258180)
Level 1 Skydancer
Familiar
Tufted Leaf Beetle
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.49 m
Wingspan
5.32 m
Weight
482.22 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Vipera
Vipera
Gold
Toxin
Toxin
Gold
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
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S T O R Y
Riane believed in Light, once. It kicked him to the dirt and spat in his eye. For two decades he had been the Lightweaver’s loyal soldier. He went where She bid him go, and fought his fellow dragons on the other side of the border. Their crime: Those insidious purple eyes, always plotting, scheming, scanning for loot to steal from well-to-do Light dragons. Riane was the poster dragon of the Lightweaver’s army. His shining, golden coat was a beacon on the battlefield, the personification of good, triumphant light. They drew his likeness in propaganda posters, his every deed was crooned by the bards, and every young warrior wanted to be him. Life was good. 
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S T O R Y
The Battle for Radiant Plaza. The name was burned clearly into his mind. It was an area of little significance, but because it was the site of an ancient Lightweaver statue, She personally demanded its safety from Shadow claws. How shallow of Her, he realised now, to fritter away Her soldiers’ lives for the sake of Her personal pride. It was one of many things he hated about Her now. Riane led the charge, as usual. Flying in on blazing wings, he crashed into the enemy’s officer, ripping her banner to shreds with his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his fellow soldiers engaging targets of their own. Spells were chanted and magic flew in all directions. Blood splattered against his immaculate coat, and he shook it off, preparing to deal the killing blow. The sound that came next was unfamiliar to him then, but it still echoed in his ears today. The officer had incanted a powerful Shadow spell against him. In the second before his claw connected with her windpipe, she let loose with her last dying breath. A blast of Shadow magic flung him backwards, like a ragdoll. Then the burning began. Shadow corruption burrowed beneath his scales, searing flesh, charring his magnificent pelt black as he screamed and clawed at his own skin. By the time the medics found and restrained him, his once golden-scales were burnt-black and blood-red.
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S T O R Y
It took a team of the Lightweaver’s best healers working around the clock to try to restore Riane. The blood was carefully towelled off, then the blackened scales chipped away with fine chisels. But every time they picked through, the golden scales beneath sizzled and blackened anew. A Shadow cantrip, they hissed. Reversible only by the caster themselves. But the officer who cursed him was very dead, her body obliterated by the blast of her own spell. Not even the Earthshaker could bring her back now. So they cleaned him up the best they could, and waited with bated breath until he awoke. Go out there, a medic said, the bravest of his team. Your public loves you. They need you. So Riane staggered to his feet, his ash-jointed limbs cracking with each step, and emerged to greet the dragons outside. But when his former admirers saw him, they-- They flinched. “That’s not Riane!” a hatchling cried, and his disbelief echoed through the crowd in a ripple of whispers and horrified gasps. There were no more artists trailing him to sketch his likeness. The bards were silent. Not even his parents could look him in the eye. In that moment, he saw them for who they were. Shallow, judgemental, cruel Light. He had nothing left to offer them; in turn, they had nothing to offer him. They didn’t love me. They loved the idea of me. He resigned from the Lightweaver’s army, disgusted and disgraced. No one knew, nor cared, where he went from there. Life was unfair.
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S T O R Y
Now, he lives a quiet life in a clan of one of the very flights he once persecuted, his origin shrouded in mystery, only the clan leaders recognizing him from the flyers that his former comrades scattered over conquered Shadow territory. He excuses himself every time someone mentions the ongoing Light-Shadow conflicts. He flinches every time he hears some dragon charging up a magic spell. He snarls when some oblivious hatchling asks him why his coat is so rough and flaking to the touch. Life is cruel.
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Bio template by Mibella, find it
here. Story written by Ethiera |
Originally owned by MrChickenNugget
Kittyg145 wrote:
Wow Riane is stunning! I know he doesn't have the BRIGHTEST of colors, but the black and gold contrast caught my eye :) -from the OW! MY EYES! thread
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Exalting Riane 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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