Oberon
(#3599399)
Level 10 Imperial
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
22.8 m
Wingspan
20.87 m
Weight
8260.67 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Speckle
Speckle
Coral
Basic
Basic
Lavender
Circuit
Circuit
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Imperial
EXP: 703 / 27676
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
Ironhide Faction Leader
He'd just shown up one day, the mysterious dragon in the iron mask. It wasn't as though he'd been invited, and he certainly wasn't wanted, at least, not by Nikolai. He could sense immediately that the encroaching imperial could be either a powerful ally, or a dangerous enemy.
The clan had accepted him, though, immediately. They treated him like a long-lost friend.
He'd been battle-worn and weary when he arrived, his neck in old bandages and beginning to fester. Even after being treated, the wound yet bled. He didn't seem to mind. He spoke only in whispers, and only one on one with individual dragons. He hadn't spoken with Nikolai, yet. The clan leader didn't trust him that much.
Oberon would have continued living in the clan indefinitely, undisturbed and slowly making friends and allies, if it weren't for the egg. He found it, out near the nesting grounds of his destroyed former lair while he was showing Charade, his new fae ward, where he used to live.
The female Imperial whose voice spoke in his head begged him to save it. He agreed. He didn't know who its parents were, but it was his now. Titania silently agreed, a feeling of warmth from where her soul rested within him.
Nikolai eyed it with distrust and disdain when Oberon approached him for permission to keep it. "If I let you hatch an egg, who else might ask to raise young? It will throw off the entire lair."
"It isn't mine, Nikolai. It is like any of your other orphans." Oberon whispered, rolling the egg close to Nikolai's talons. "If you do not trust me, than choose someone else to raise it. I would have it saved."
"Fine, keep it, but until it is hatched and raised, you can go dig a nest in the snow... Away from the lair."
Oberon bowed to the other King, took his egg and Charade, and went out into the icefields of the Fortress of Ends to raise them.
What hatched from the egg was a bright little ball off fluff, a tiny tundra who he named Grimm. She looked, for all the world, like a light dragon, not a shadow, except for her tertiary, but she was perfect.
He knew it was coming, when Grimm decided to leave the Lair. She'd always been headstrong, and she wanted more for herself. He was going to miss her, but had Ascelin and Charade, and he knew they would stay, no matter what.
The Past wrote:
Only he knew the truth, only he could attest to his own sins. He'd slain his own clan with his hubris. Everyone he'd once known or cared for now slept in Shadowbinder's eternal night. He'd once been a king, and proud. With his noble queen Titania at his side, he'd believed himself capable of defeating any foe, and he'd sought to prove it.
Word had come one day of an Emperor waking at the borders of the Wandering Contagion, and the nearby clans had panicked. A meeting was called among the kings, leaders, progenitors, and elders of the region to discuss the menace, and Oberon alone had volunteered to fight. As the other clans retreated, the Ironhide clan strapped on their armor and prepared for battle.
At first it seemed they would triumph, the Emperor was a small one and they had numbers on their side, but then, to the shock and horror of all who witnessed the event, it spoke. One of the heads growing grotesquely from it's flank spoke. "Help me. Please, have mercy." She whispered. At least, Oberon believed the twisted thing to be a she.
It stayed their hand for only a moment, but a moment was enough. The beast's primary head snapped up Titania as though she were merely the faery she'd been named for and tossed her away. From there, chaos reigned. Oberon flew to his fallen mate, desperate to save the Pearlcatcher's life, and abandoned his post. One by one his people fell beneath the onslaught of the beast, although many took the beast's heads with them to Shadowbinder. Finally, the beast came for Oberon, and in his rage and desperation, he managed to strike the final blow, taking a grievous blow to the throat himself.
The Emperor lay dying, but so did Titania. "Please," She gasped, imploring, "Take my pearl. It is my soul. Keep me with you always."
Had he been in his right mind, Oberon wouldn't have done it, but he was dazed and horrified, and as he watched the pearl held out to him begin to fade, he did the only thing he could think to do. He swallowed it. Then he spent several hours writhing in pain as the pearl took on a life of it's own. He must have passed out at some point, because when he awoke, he discovered the pearl growing from his own skull and Titania's soft voice whispering to him from within his own mind.
There was another voice, as well. It was the fallen Emperor, the speaking head had survived. "Please, take me with you. Don't leave me here to rot with this behemoth."
And Oberon had. He'd cut the eye of the other imperial from its skull and pressed it into the wound on his throat, where it had healed into place. With it had come the soul of the Imperial it belonged to, and Oberon had become a living Emperor.
Word had come one day of an Emperor waking at the borders of the Wandering Contagion, and the nearby clans had panicked. A meeting was called among the kings, leaders, progenitors, and elders of the region to discuss the menace, and Oberon alone had volunteered to fight. As the other clans retreated, the Ironhide clan strapped on their armor and prepared for battle.
At first it seemed they would triumph, the Emperor was a small one and they had numbers on their side, but then, to the shock and horror of all who witnessed the event, it spoke. One of the heads growing grotesquely from it's flank spoke. "Help me. Please, have mercy." She whispered. At least, Oberon believed the twisted thing to be a she.
It stayed their hand for only a moment, but a moment was enough. The beast's primary head snapped up Titania as though she were merely the faery she'd been named for and tossed her away. From there, chaos reigned. Oberon flew to his fallen mate, desperate to save the Pearlcatcher's life, and abandoned his post. One by one his people fell beneath the onslaught of the beast, although many took the beast's heads with them to Shadowbinder. Finally, the beast came for Oberon, and in his rage and desperation, he managed to strike the final blow, taking a grievous blow to the throat himself.
The Emperor lay dying, but so did Titania. "Please," She gasped, imploring, "Take my pearl. It is my soul. Keep me with you always."
Had he been in his right mind, Oberon wouldn't have done it, but he was dazed and horrified, and as he watched the pearl held out to him begin to fade, he did the only thing he could think to do. He swallowed it. Then he spent several hours writhing in pain as the pearl took on a life of it's own. He must have passed out at some point, because when he awoke, he discovered the pearl growing from his own skull and Titania's soft voice whispering to him from within his own mind.
There was another voice, as well. It was the fallen Emperor, the speaking head had survived. "Please, take me with you. Don't leave me here to rot with this behemoth."
And Oberon had. He'd cut the eye of the other imperial from its skull and pressed it into the wound on his throat, where it had healed into place. With it had come the soul of the Imperial it belonged to, and Oberon had become a living Emperor.
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Exalting Oberon 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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