Uranus
(#38332388)
Guardian | It/It's
Familiar
Frozen Goblin
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Male Skydancer
This dragon is hibernating.
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.95 m
Wingspan
6.73 m
Weight
910.61 kg
Genetics
Ice
Crystal
Crystal
Ice
Facet
Facet
Ice
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Skydancer
EXP: 1851 / 5545
STR
4
AGI
12
DEF
14
QCK
12
INT
18
VIT
12
MND
13
Biography
|
Uranus
{ Your-ahn-oos } Nicknames: Yuri • Ice Sculpture 
╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ Spoken Words and Sweet Songs ♫ (artist) - (song) ♫ Voice Claim -(Example) ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ |
Clan Escalon has been around for a long time. The clan is firmly established in the Shifting Expanse, and with its dry brown hues, it is very much a part of the desert. The ice sculpture standing in the front hall is incongruous, almost otherworldly...quite otherworldly, in fact.
The statue stands on a pedestal upon which is carved the name Uranus. He was given to Sehimena by an Ice Ambassador, a sign of appreciation for good deeds done. Occasionally, Sehimena will tell that story, with the sculpture standing behind her, seeming to listen.
He is in fact listening, and the story is for his benefit. He has learned its lesson well by now. If he could speak, dragons would doubtless ask him how he got here. And he would answer, “There is no warden who tolerates crime…”
He was born as Jokul, a Skydancer of the Southern Icefield. As a child, he was known for his mischievousness, his penchant for playing tricks. Older clanmates chuckled indulgently at this — “Jokul the Joker,” they dubbed him.
It was cute at first. As Jokul grew, he was expected to pull his weight, but he preferred instead to run wild in the streets with his friends. He became a familiar sight, and then an infamous one. From pranks he moved on to petty crime: shoplifting, vandalism, and harassment. His clan began to receive complaints about him.
The final straw came when a dragon was killed: A Fae merchant rode towards the town, balanced atop the antlers of a Snowfall Elk. Jokul and his friends jumped out to scare the animal, and it bounded off the path. With the Fae hanging on for dear life, it stampeded onto a snowfield — and crashed through the frozen lake, sinking into the water deep below.
They could’ve saved her. Instead, the hooligans turned and ran, leaving the merchant and her elk thrashing feebly in the water. The town guards, who witnessed the entire incident, arrived too late for rescue.
Jokul tried to deny his involvement at first. “You know me!” he protested, grinning his most disarming grin. “I’m Jokul the Joker! I’d never do such a thing...”
The town guards testified against him. Jokul changed tack: “It was only a prank, all in good fun!” It backfired magnificently — with that callous dismissal of his crime, his fate was sealed.
He would’ve been put to death, but because he wasn’t yet grown, the clan banished him instead. They cast a spell to temporarily blind him and then had the guards take him away. As they flew over the Icefield, Jokul protested, claiming he hadn’t known any better. His words became angrier, more vicious, as the distance lengthened: “How could we have known it’d happen that way? Stupid beast...and that idiot merchant; she should’ve known better than to take on a familiar she couldn’t control! She should never—”
The guards dumped Jokul into a snowdrift. They grimly muttered the words that would release the spell, and then they flew away. It took many minutes for the spell to wear off, and by the time it did, they were gone.
“Good riddance,” Jokul spat — he hadn’t liked that crummy town, anyway. With a bit of walking, he’d soon find himself some company.
The townsdrakes hoped they’d seen the last of Jokul. They noted with relief that his former friends also left the place one by one. Where were they going? It didn’t really matter...did it?
Years later, they began hearing about a group of bandits: dragons who destroyed and plundered, appearing out of snowstorms and vanishing into the night. Their leader was a pale Skydancer: no longer Jokul the Joker, but a host of other terrible names: thief...ravager...murderer.
The Tundra had led her clan for many decades, and she wasn’t about to relinquish her territory without a fight. With her retinue, she headed deep into the underworld of one of the outer towns, where the law was relaxed or altogether absent. In the land ruled by the Icewarden, such refuges were rare — but the outlaws knew them well.
When she met Jokul, she sniffed deeply and rumbled, “You smell like a drake who gets the job done.”
Jokul laughed politely. He wore a mild expression and clean, simple clothes, but the Tundra wasn’t fooled — the fact that he was here at all was suspect. “There is a troublesome dragon I want removed,” she explained to him. “My clan dwells on the northern coast, a place we’ve lived for centuries. Recently, a small group of dragons encroached on our territory.” Her lip curled, showing teeth that’d been filed to vicious points. “These upstarts want to start their own clan. None of them can agree on who should be the leader, so they have petitioned the Fortress of Ends to send them one. My spies tell me that a leader has been selected and will join them soon.”
“And you want this new leader removed?” Jokul asked. He continued smiling gently, but there was now a sharp glint in his eyes.
The Tundra nodded. “If he does not arrive, the intruders may rescind their petition.” She snorted and tossed her mane. “Let them scatter back into the howling wilderness. I don’t care.”
Jokul pressed his forepaws together. “Say no more, Elder. I’ll look into it — but first let us discuss how I may be compensated for my work. The Fortress of Ends is a most forbidding place...”
The terms were settled, and the Tundra took her leave. Her parting words to Jokul were, “It might be better to ambush your target once he’s out of sight of the Fortress. The Icewarden’s wrath would be a terrible thing to behold.”
Now, watching her leave, Jokul’s smile melted off his face. “The Icewarden’s wrath,” he repeated mockingly. His birth clan had lived and toiled in the shadow of the Fortress, and not once had he seen this purported god or heard the deity’s voice. Threats of the deity’s power hadn’t been enough to cow him as a child. He’d gotten away with everything, up to and including murder, and had never received divine punishment; he didn’t think he’d start receiving it now.
As a bandit, he had grown skilled with blades and had honed his innate Ice magic. He maintained a mild and cheerful exterior and was rarely seen without a friendly smile, for he’d learned that polite manners and a handsome appearance will get you almost anywhere. He’d exploited this to the fullest, even against his fellow bandits, and when he’d finally struck out on his own, they had been glad to see him go. There is honor among thieves sometimes, but Jokul had never had any.
He was now a professional assassin. It was more lucrative than robbing caravans, more thrilling, and offered opportunities to rub elbows with the rich and powerful. His record was good, and Jokul didn’t doubt he could pull off this assignment successfully as well.
The old Tundra was a wily haggler and had offered an interesting condition: the earlier the prospective leader was disposed of, the higher the payout would be. Jokul sneered as he recalled her warning about the Icewarden. “The old cow’s trying to get me to delay things so she won’t have to pay as much....She thought I wouldn’t see through that?”
The Fortress of Ends loomed on the horizon. Somewhere in one of those frosty buildings was the putative clan leader. Jokul found him soon enough, and with a bit of illusory magic, he became someone else, a dragon seeking work in a new lair. He was directed to the clan where the young dragon was being groomed for leadership, and he submerged himself among the workers and adventurers looking to accompany him to his new post.
“Another Tundra. No wonder that hag was ticked off,” Jokul thought when he greeted the new leader. He reached out, grasped the young drake’s paw. The Tundra looked at him for a moment with pale, piercing eyes — Jokul felt a brief tingle of unease. And then someone else called out to the Tundra and he turned away, and the moment passed. Jokul withdrew his paw.
Jokul waited for an opportunity to eliminate his target, conscious all the while of the time ticking past. He had arrived on a dark and moonless night, and he watched impatiently as the moon grew full. Finally, when it was shining in all its splendor, he made his move. He slipped through the gaps in the guards’ schedules, dispelled the enchantments on the Tundra’s door, and glided in like a shadow. The Tundra woke to see him standing by the bed, a knife in his grasp — already dripping blood.
He would’ve cried out, but his throat had been cut. Air wheezed feebly from his lungs. “F...Father,” he whispered, crawling towards the window. “Father...!”
He died slumped over the windowsill, his blood running thickly down the outside wall. Jokul sniffed in disgust and hauled him back. He glanced out the window at the Fortress of Ends — and stopped, staring in disbelief. For as long as he could remember, the Fortress had been a dark, featureless peak. But now, from somewhere deep inside, a cold light was shining....
He looked down at the Tundra’s wide-open eyes, and too late, he understood.
The light filled his vision. Even before it cleared, Jokul, for the first time, was filled with fear. He knew what he would see once the brilliance was gone.
Walls of ice, pallid lights sparkling deep inside...inhuman groans and cracks as the ice shifted uneasily. And well it might, for it was in the presence of a god. The Icewarden.
“My child...” growled the deity, and his groan was the groan of the shifting ice. “You have slain...my child.”
His eyes blazed brighter than any fire. “Jokul! You have stolen from your fellows many times; now you dare steal from a god? You dare steal the life of a progenitor wrought personally by your god?!”
“Nay, sire,” Jokul gasped. His confidence left him; he trembled and backed away, conscious all the while of the ice closing in. “Sire, I was ordered by another one of—”
The Icewarden would not be pacified. He roared — and the ice came crashing down.
Jokul screamed. Cold...It was so cold....He would be crushed! He felt the ice pressing in, squeezing against his body, first freezing, then burning, taking all sensations away....
Changing. He was changing as the Icewarden’s magic worked on him. Echoes of the deity’s roar rebounded, ringing in his ears long after the god disappeared. It was no longer a single howl, but words of a spell. Jokul, buried deep within the ice, started to change.
He had once been as blue as the night. Now the color was leached from him till he was indistinguishable from the ice. His blood froze like a glacier. And even his heart stopped beating, hardening into a lump of frost. Slowly, Jokul became one with the ice.
His consciousness remained intact, but even his mind was affected by the enchantment binding him. Over time, his thoughts began to change.
“Uranus was a gift from Amphitrite,” Sehimena explained to the Imperial. “He is an Ice Sculpture, one of the Icewarden’s most peculiar creations. They are living sculptures created to guard lairs — and Uranus is a most stalwart and dependable one.”
She patted the statue’s shoulder appreciatively. Abaddon looked deep into the sculpture’s eyes and saw the soul imprisoned there, but she elected not to comment. She didn’t think it wise to bring up this particular observation.
She did wonder about the Skydancer, though. What was it like for him? Did he regret his imprisonment? Was he as trustworthy as Sehimena professed him to be?
Jokul’s old companions would’ve been surprised to learn that the answer was yes. The long years buried in ice, with only the Icewarden’s voice for company, had stripped away the arrogance that had once poisoned his heart. He had initially hated his god for inflicting this punishment upon him and had often wondered why he hadn’t been killed instead.
The answer had come to him slowly but irrevocably: He hadn’t been killed because the Icewarden had seen more in him than just another criminal. Not just a thief or a murderer, not just another outcast of society, but someone who could still make a good difference. Someone who could still become worthy.
Watching the world helped ease the passage of time for him. From the snowy slopes of the Fortress, he looked down at the dragons laboring to make a living in this hard and cruel land. He came to understand and appreciate the effort they put into building their clans and nurturing their families — just as his poor, long-suffering birth clan had labored to raise him. Bitterly he repented the days he’d lashed out against them. If only he could have done things differently...But that time was long gone now. Or was it?
Perhaps the Icewarden knew when his heart had changed, because one day, the icy shell surrounding Jokul was broken. He was lifted up to the light and put on a ship bound for the Shifting Expanse. He was placed into the care of the Aberration, Sehimena, who’d also been granted the rune that would bring him to life once more. “You have saved many of our god’s children,” the Ice Ambassador told her. A thrill of surprise rushed through Jokul when he heard the next words: “May this servant aid your god’s children as well.”
Sehimena dubbed him Uranus when she awakened him with the rune. She set him in the greeting hall and commanded him to keep the clan safe from attack. There he stayed, and there he remains even today....
Ice Sculptures cannot speak. The magic rune allows them to move, nothing more. But if Uranus could speak, he would explain how he got here: “There is no warden who tolerates crime.”
He would smile then, a real smile, not a fake like the one he wore so often long ago. “Most of them facilitate punishment for crimes heinously done. But the best ones, the ones with the wisest hearts — they value redemption more.”
Uranus is immortal, but not indestructible. He will not endure forever. But neither will he squander the chance the Icewarden has given him. There are many others who never got the same chance; he, a former killer, knows this better than anyone. The time of crime is over. The time of atonement begins now.
template by Disillusionist (254672)
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 Uranus to the service of the Stormcatcher 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.