Tavania
(#35933379)
Level 11 Skydancer
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.84 m
Wingspan
3.73 m
Weight
406.11 kg
Genetics
Tomato
Skink
Skink
Seafoam
Toxin
Toxin
Stone
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 11 Skydancer
EXP: 12700 / 34264
STR
7
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
8
INT
5
VIT
6
MND
5
Biography
Tavania hurried up the wooden spiral staircase of her clan’s Heart Tree, ducking her head at the sound of voices emanating from one of the warren-like dens that branched off the main stair. She unconsciously gripped her canvas bag full of flowers and choice vegetables tighter to her chest until the sounds faded behind her, then slowly relaxed. Tall though the tree was—tall enough for its upper branches to break through the ever-present gloom of the Wispwillow Grove and into the clear sky above—it was squat for its height, its massive trunk so wide that even the largest and most well-travelled dragons marveled at it. Tavania’s clan had started out as a simple, sandy burrow dug into the Heart Tree’s roots, but as the clan dug deeper the discovery of natural veins of rotting wood deep in the trunk had prompted them to expand upward as well as down.
In those early days, the clan’s expansion had been a reckless thing. By the time Tavania was born her parents, prompted by Lasha, the clan’s self-appointed master arborist, had laid down strict rules about what could and could not be done to the tree. Tavania, like all the clan’s younger dragons, chafed at these restrictions. Today she would much rather have just flown up to her nest, perched high in the Heart Tree’s crown, but during late spring flying through the tree’s foliage was strictly forbidden. Too much damage to new shoots and leaves could, as the clan had been told time and time again, have lasting effects on the tree’s health. And so Tavania took the stairs.
It wasn’t that she was avoiding the other dragons, she told herself. She just preferred to make trips through the lower warrens like this early in the day, while most of her clanmates were still sleeping. The darkness of the Inner Stair pressed close around her, a comfortable warmth against her feathers. Large glowing mushrooms and tendrils of luminescent moss lighted the winding tunnel just enough to see by as it snaked around the dark, living wood of the Heart Tree’s core, its ceiling arching into blackness. There was, Tavania decided, a certain majesty to this path through the ancient tree’s trunk.
A sudden vibration in the air jerked the young Skydancer out of her reverie. Her delicate antennae stiffened at the disturbance, and she could tell from the way the air moved that another dragon was coming down the stair towards her. She concentrated, trying to tell who it was, but the musty air and the countless plants and insects inhabiting the dark tunnel made it impossible to tell. She looked around for an alternate route, although she already knew this part of the tree had nothing but private—and occupied—dens. Grimly, she straightened her shoulders and continued on.
It was only a few heartbeats later that the other dragon rounded a bend ahead of her. Moondust was one of the only other Skydancers in the clan, but Tavania knew they were as different as two dragons could be. While she was small, gangly, and uncoordinated, the older Skydancer moved with a self-assured grace that was only emphasized by the broadsword belted to his hip. Moondust was one of the few dragons Tavania knew to whom a weapon was more than just a showpiece, but she had seen the silvery Skydancer use his sword once, on the only hunt she had ever participated in. It had somehow complimented his claws and teeth without hindering his natural movements, blending into the dizzying whirl of white and silver markings that his feathers had become. Now, approaching middle age but still tall and strong, he seemed to tower over her on the stair. He had obviously sensed her coming but, as was only proper, he waited until she drew close to speak to her.
“Ah, Tavania. You’re up early child.” His voice was even and reassuring, like all Skydancers, but Tavania still wanted to melt into the darkness at his gaze.
“Hi… Hi Moondust. You’re up pretty early yourself” She stammered, then cringed inwardly. The words sounded forced, even to her.
“Yes, I suppose I am” he chuckled, not seeming to notice her discomfort. “There’s a hunt leaving in a couple of hours, and your mother has asked me to lead it.” He didn’t boast of the privilege like many other dragons would have, and Tavania was glad of this. Too many dragons lived in awe of Gudrun, the clan’s inscrutable matriarch. Although, Tavania supposed, she did as well.
“Anyway, I should be going. Give your best to your parents, child.” He tipped his head to her in the same tiny show of deference he had been doing since she was a hatchling and continued down the stairs, his silvery armor clinking softly.
Tavania sighed. Would he ever stop calling her child? True, he had already been a powerful warrior by the time she had hatched, but surely he must know she was grown now. She didn’t even live with her parents anymore, for Shadowbinder’s sake.
No one talked much about Tavania’s hatching, but she still knew. Everyone knew. Their clan, then newly founded, had suffered and almost starved through their first winter under the Heart Tree. In that time her parents, hoping hatchlings would help the dragons they led to see themselves as a clan rather than a group of outcasts, had managed to produce a small nest of eggs in a den that, though drafty, was as warm as they had been able to make it. Of that first clutch only one egg had survived. The hatchling that emerged had been small and sickly, her washed out oranges and greens an oddity among dragons born in the depths of the Tangled Wood. Even now, she was small. She probably always would be.
Thankfully, she didn’t meet anyone else as she ascended the stair. Her nest was as high as you could safely build in the tree, a shallow bowl carved out of the Y between two massive branches, with a roof and one wall woven out of living twigs, their soft leaves blowing gently in the breeze. The fourth wall, facing east, was open to the sky.
Tavania relaxed as she gently closed the wooden door to her den. She packed her vegetables neatly on a shelf above a stone-lined fireplace that she reserved for the coldest nights and an occasional hot meal, then laid her flowers out on her small table beside a stone mortar. From the bottom of her satchel she drew out a wide roll of fine, creamy parchment made by some Longneck Scholar off in the Windswept Plateau.
Humming softly to herself, Tavania pinned the parchment carefully over a wooden frame, which she positioned so that she could see both it and the window without turning her body. She then selected a handful of delicate frosted violets and, with a practiced motion, began grinding them into a rich pulp. Before her, the sun’s first rays broke over the writhing mass of mist that was her god’s domain. With the light the upper reaches transformed into a filmy sea of blue and indigo, tinged with white at its upmost reaches and broken here and there by dark, grasping tree limbs like the fins of some monstrous beast.
Tavania raised one delicate claw to her canvas, and began to paint.
Portrait by Snapdragoon
In those early days, the clan’s expansion had been a reckless thing. By the time Tavania was born her parents, prompted by Lasha, the clan’s self-appointed master arborist, had laid down strict rules about what could and could not be done to the tree. Tavania, like all the clan’s younger dragons, chafed at these restrictions. Today she would much rather have just flown up to her nest, perched high in the Heart Tree’s crown, but during late spring flying through the tree’s foliage was strictly forbidden. Too much damage to new shoots and leaves could, as the clan had been told time and time again, have lasting effects on the tree’s health. And so Tavania took the stairs.
It wasn’t that she was avoiding the other dragons, she told herself. She just preferred to make trips through the lower warrens like this early in the day, while most of her clanmates were still sleeping. The darkness of the Inner Stair pressed close around her, a comfortable warmth against her feathers. Large glowing mushrooms and tendrils of luminescent moss lighted the winding tunnel just enough to see by as it snaked around the dark, living wood of the Heart Tree’s core, its ceiling arching into blackness. There was, Tavania decided, a certain majesty to this path through the ancient tree’s trunk.
A sudden vibration in the air jerked the young Skydancer out of her reverie. Her delicate antennae stiffened at the disturbance, and she could tell from the way the air moved that another dragon was coming down the stair towards her. She concentrated, trying to tell who it was, but the musty air and the countless plants and insects inhabiting the dark tunnel made it impossible to tell. She looked around for an alternate route, although she already knew this part of the tree had nothing but private—and occupied—dens. Grimly, she straightened her shoulders and continued on.
It was only a few heartbeats later that the other dragon rounded a bend ahead of her. Moondust was one of the only other Skydancers in the clan, but Tavania knew they were as different as two dragons could be. While she was small, gangly, and uncoordinated, the older Skydancer moved with a self-assured grace that was only emphasized by the broadsword belted to his hip. Moondust was one of the few dragons Tavania knew to whom a weapon was more than just a showpiece, but she had seen the silvery Skydancer use his sword once, on the only hunt she had ever participated in. It had somehow complimented his claws and teeth without hindering his natural movements, blending into the dizzying whirl of white and silver markings that his feathers had become. Now, approaching middle age but still tall and strong, he seemed to tower over her on the stair. He had obviously sensed her coming but, as was only proper, he waited until she drew close to speak to her.
“Ah, Tavania. You’re up early child.” His voice was even and reassuring, like all Skydancers, but Tavania still wanted to melt into the darkness at his gaze.
“Hi… Hi Moondust. You’re up pretty early yourself” She stammered, then cringed inwardly. The words sounded forced, even to her.
“Yes, I suppose I am” he chuckled, not seeming to notice her discomfort. “There’s a hunt leaving in a couple of hours, and your mother has asked me to lead it.” He didn’t boast of the privilege like many other dragons would have, and Tavania was glad of this. Too many dragons lived in awe of Gudrun, the clan’s inscrutable matriarch. Although, Tavania supposed, she did as well.
“Anyway, I should be going. Give your best to your parents, child.” He tipped his head to her in the same tiny show of deference he had been doing since she was a hatchling and continued down the stairs, his silvery armor clinking softly.
Tavania sighed. Would he ever stop calling her child? True, he had already been a powerful warrior by the time she had hatched, but surely he must know she was grown now. She didn’t even live with her parents anymore, for Shadowbinder’s sake.
No one talked much about Tavania’s hatching, but she still knew. Everyone knew. Their clan, then newly founded, had suffered and almost starved through their first winter under the Heart Tree. In that time her parents, hoping hatchlings would help the dragons they led to see themselves as a clan rather than a group of outcasts, had managed to produce a small nest of eggs in a den that, though drafty, was as warm as they had been able to make it. Of that first clutch only one egg had survived. The hatchling that emerged had been small and sickly, her washed out oranges and greens an oddity among dragons born in the depths of the Tangled Wood. Even now, she was small. She probably always would be.
Thankfully, she didn’t meet anyone else as she ascended the stair. Her nest was as high as you could safely build in the tree, a shallow bowl carved out of the Y between two massive branches, with a roof and one wall woven out of living twigs, their soft leaves blowing gently in the breeze. The fourth wall, facing east, was open to the sky.
Tavania relaxed as she gently closed the wooden door to her den. She packed her vegetables neatly on a shelf above a stone-lined fireplace that she reserved for the coldest nights and an occasional hot meal, then laid her flowers out on her small table beside a stone mortar. From the bottom of her satchel she drew out a wide roll of fine, creamy parchment made by some Longneck Scholar off in the Windswept Plateau.
Humming softly to herself, Tavania pinned the parchment carefully over a wooden frame, which she positioned so that she could see both it and the window without turning her body. She then selected a handful of delicate frosted violets and, with a practiced motion, began grinding them into a rich pulp. Before her, the sun’s first rays broke over the writhing mass of mist that was her god’s domain. With the light the upper reaches transformed into a filmy sea of blue and indigo, tinged with white at its upmost reaches and broken here and there by dark, grasping tree limbs like the fins of some monstrous beast.
Tavania raised one delicate claw to her canvas, and began to paint.
Portrait by Snapdragoon
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Feed this dragon Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Tavania to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.