Estelle
(#36259805)
Level 10 Imperial
Dite
Arcane Sprite
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Female Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
23.16 m
Wingspan
14.09 m
Weight
6816.65 kg
Genetics
Pearl
Metallic
Metallic
Pink
Alloy
Alloy
Mauve
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Imperial
EXP: 9139 / 27676
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
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The egg floated in the nest, and Surusiipi gazed on it with concern. "Did you see that egg?" Joyscale looked at their three lovely eggs. "I see all of them." "Yes, I see all of them too. But the one that's floating the highest, it sparkles sometimes in patterns like constellations." Joyscale rolled his eyes. "You're imagining things." Surusiipi sighed, but didn't argue. Joyscale had a lot of good qualities, but keen observation, especially in the magical arts, was not one of them. She watched the eggs carefully, and once they hatched, named the dragon who hatched out of the sparkly one Estelle, after the stars that had once sparkled on her egg. Estelle grew fast, quickly learning to fly. She had a keen ability to sense magic, and a love of the stars so great that she would sleep all day so she could fly up into the starry sky at night. She pestered the elders to teach her the names of every star and constellation, and then she started asking about every creature that inhabited the night, and that led to the day creatures and more. Estelle wanted to know everything, and pushed herself to learn as much as she could. But nothing could keep her from the night sky, not even learning something new. Some days, she dreamed of the darkness between the skies, and during those days, the runes on her body shifted to strange poetry. Her friends teased her about that, which embarrassed her immensely. It wasn't as if she could control the patterns on her skin! Over and over, they would chant the poetry at her. "Big Imp went hunting, down in the bog, Tomorrow we're feasting on cattails and hog." "That's a really dumb rhyme, Estelle!" A tiny fae buzzed by her ears. "Yeah, it should at least have been cattails and frog!" The fae's spiral friend joined in. "Whoever heard of hogs in a bog?" "I didn't write the rhyme. How would I know?" Estelle hunched down. She didn't like being made fun of, and it was even harder to put up with jeers from her peers of the smaller dragon species. If one of her siblings made an unfair accusation, she could at least express her frustration with roughhousing. But with spirals and fae, she had to sit still and protest with nothing more than words, lest she hurt them. And words weren't effective. It suddenly seemed less funny when their next meal included bog plants and wild hog. The kids started to look at Estelle with suspicion, and they started keeping notes on the poems and on events in the lair and the bigger world. Estelle started wearing an overcoat and fedora, trying to hide even the runes on her face with a big, fluffy scarf. But the runes would sparkle through, one at a time. It was like trying to piece together a missive on a page that had been ripped to pieces, but as far as Estelle could tell, that just made it more fun for her tormenters. Mostly it was stupid things. Two days hence, by the fence, Chocolate cookies shaped like wookies. Nobody knew what a wookie was, but who cared? Two days later, there were indeed chocolate cookies for those who could eat them, and other treats for those who couldn't, brought in as a ransom gift from one of the neighboring lairs. Everyone but Estelle enjoyed them. Estelle pondered the possibilities of becoming a hermit. She even moved her belongings to a cave at the far end of the lair. She went in for meals, but only when she didn't find something to her liking in the woods. Very early in the mornings, well before breakfast, she headed into the lair for books from the library. But she always checked her runes before going in. If the poetry was too horrible, or mentioned something embarrassing, she waited until they changed. After a few hungry and bored days, she learned how to trigger the dreams of deep space, to get them to change faster. So it went for some time. The other dragons let her hide. The more they saw the bad poems glowing on her sides come true, days or weeks later, the more nervous they felt around her. But then, one of the progens went missing. The old dragon, referred to as "Grandma" by nearly all the dragons, was very responsible and sensible. She wouldn't have just run off, especially not without saying goodbye. Dragons flew to the far corners of Somieth, searching, but they didn't find her. Finally, the other progen came to Estelle. "Can your runes help us? I'm worried that Grandma's hurt somewhere, or that she's drifted into hunger-hibernation." Grandma had never teased her, and the other dragons hadn't dared to do so in front of Grandma. "I--I don't know, Grandpa. But I'll try." Estelle laid down to dream, keeping Grandma's kindness in mind, and she fell asleep. And her runes changed. She was awakened by the old progen reading it aloud. "On Dodo mountain, she sleeps A lonely fire egg she keeps Wake her with some honey It's more tasty than money You'll find her where the harpy cheeps." "Thank you, Estelle," he said, very seriously. "Do you want to come along on the rescue?" He was treating her oddly, and it took her a moment to wake up enough to realize that it was respect. Respect for her! She nodded. She wanted to see Grandma again. And besides, they might need some more clues once they got close. "I would be pleased to help." They did find Grandma, sleeping in the hunger-hibernation, curled around a fire egg, her body and sheltering wings keeping it safe from a clutch of harpy chicks. They woke her up, and gave Estelle the honor of tending the fire egg until it hatched. And no one dared make fun of the bad poetry on her sides ever again. | xxxx |
a labor of love brought to you by:
artist | WyldDandelyon (lore writer) | trainer
artist | WyldDandelyon (lore writer) | trainer
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Exalting Estelle to the service of the Arcanist 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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