Alsiyada
(#39071271)
Level 1 Imperial
Familiar
Ultimate Buttersnake
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Lightning.
Female Imperial
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
23.24 m
Wingspan
17.8 m
Weight
7070.65 kg
Genetics
Ginger
Tiger
Tiger
Chocolate
Stripes
Stripes
Sanguine
Thylacine
Thylacine
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Imperial
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
Huntress
The Huntress
Oh, the falcon was a pretty bird.
Wandered as she flew.
She danced around and pranced around,
Wherever the warm winds blew.
And the falcon was a pretty bird,
Her voice was always still,
But men with drums and men with guns,
They taught her how to kill.
Her eye was on the sparrow,
Her mind was on the dove.
But no one cared and no one dared,
To speak to her of love.
Her eyes are always hooded,
Her claws are sharp as steel.
We teach her not to see too much,
We teach her not to feel.
Go build you a log cabin,
On a mountain so high,
And hear the feathered war-bird's yell,
As she goes screaming by.
She'll tease you,
She'll please you,
She'll satisfy your needs.
But someday she might turn around,
And maul the hand that feeds.
Your hours might be numbered,
Your end might come someday.
Go break her chain and free her brain,
And send her on her way.
And the falcon is a pretty bird,
Wonders as she flies,
She asks us easy questions,
We tell her easy lies.
Oh, the falcon was a pretty bird.
Wandered as she flew.
She danced around and pranced around,
Wherever the warm winds blew.
And the falcon was a pretty bird,
Her voice was always still,
But men with drums and men with guns,
They taught her how to kill.
Her eye was on the sparrow,
Her mind was on the dove.
But no one cared and no one dared,
To speak to her of love.
Her eyes are always hooded,
Her claws are sharp as steel.
We teach her not to see too much,
We teach her not to feel.
Go build you a log cabin,
On a mountain so high,
And hear the feathered war-bird's yell,
As she goes screaming by.
She'll tease you,
She'll please you,
She'll satisfy your needs.
But someday she might turn around,
And maul the hand that feeds.
Your hours might be numbered,
Your end might come someday.
Go break her chain and free her brain,
And send her on her way.
And the falcon is a pretty bird,
Wonders as she flies,
She asks us easy questions,
We tell her easy lies.
Quote:
"Beware the darks of any place, be it wasteland, forest, or even your own clan. Beware the silent winds that blow, never giving away what it holds. Beware late at night as you wander home,
to be sure to not come across any bones.
A figure lurks in the night. Claws long and sharpened, who wears the skull, they say, of her child killed. A winding staff slings on her back, made from the mourningwood of the Hanging Tree,
filled with malice and death's intent. She smells of rot and covered in wilted rose, smoke flowing from her deathless mouth. Beware o' children, the Huntress that lurks, ready for the next victim who dares to bring hurt."
Sansetto reads from the old tome given to her by her darling mate, Thalaj, and the clan librarian. The young hatchlings gathered around the female Imp listen with wide eyes, fear brimming in their gazes as Sansetto continues on.to be sure to not come across any bones.
A figure lurks in the night. Claws long and sharpened, who wears the skull, they say, of her child killed. A winding staff slings on her back, made from the mourningwood of the Hanging Tree,
filled with malice and death's intent. She smells of rot and covered in wilted rose, smoke flowing from her deathless mouth. Beware o' children, the Huntress that lurks, ready for the next victim who dares to bring hurt."
They tremble and shake, not a single one daring to slumber, all in fear and awe of this legendary hunter.
A cold wind howls outside of the large building, tree tips tapping against the window glass. A hatchling jumps, frightened, and scuttles away from their place to their mother's side. The dragoness simply chuckles softly, her wing gathering around the small tyke as they continue listening to the old legend.
"They say she grew up in the wastelands, of dusty deserts and underground tunnels,
tunnels with thieves and liars and murderers. They claim the name of carrion birds who circle those who give up in the harsh elements, creatures with swift wings and sharp beaks which carry death in their talons."
"Buzzards..." the small hatchling murmurs from under his mother's wings, watching the large Imperial reader. Everyone in the clan knew of the Buzzard community; a group they do well to stay away from, to shun and be wary of. Every hatchling is told scary bedtime stories of such dragons in hopes to keep them in line. "You don't want a Buzzard to snatch you up do you?" they'd always say.tunnels with thieves and liars and murderers. They claim the name of carrion birds who circle those who give up in the harsh elements, creatures with swift wings and sharp beaks which carry death in their talons."
Soon enough, the clan dispersed as the storm died down for a moment, hurrying to their homes for the night. The small hatchling follows after his mother, staring up at the starry sky in wonder.
They pass through twisted trees, long, gnarled shadows falling upon the two Imperials. All was quiet, and still, and small tyke got lost into his thoughts, bounding through the woods without a care. His mother however, cast an uneasy glance around the wood, a sudden feeling of dread shuddering through her.
"Dosne, wait." she calls after her son, but he is already out of sight. She bites her lip and hurries to follow him, worried he might-
Dosne stopped for a moment, glancing around. He couldn't see his mother anymore and gave a soft whimper, quickly turning back to find her.
What greeted him was the sight of a large Imperial; she was definitely older than he, and he just stared, stared at the black ashes and smoke that drifted from her maw, a large skull covering her face. Her clawed talons curled around the staff in her paws
Dosne whimpered.
She turned her gaze, eyes without pupils, almost sparking with lightning
he'd later learn
He fainted.
It wouldn't be until he woke again that he'd realize she had taken him. She raised him, fed him, and slowly as he grew, he learned to love her. He learned to hunt like her, he learned to bring disease and death upon his victims, he learned to be ruthless and cold and a hunter.
He became her precious mate, her precious Plague Lord
Alsiyada grew up a Buzzard and always would be; she thrives in the underground darkness, and thrives being in a community of survivors. She's a dangerous, crafty thing, and relished participating in raids and fights. She's a large warrior, scarred, and holds no hesitation for killing to survive. She's also quite a collector of trinkets, trading them for food or other valuables.
She had disappeared for awhile, before returning to the hive with her mate, Dosne, and turning him into a Buzzard as well.
She had disappeared for awhile, before returning to the hive with her mate, Dosne, and turning him into a Buzzard as well.
Mate: Dosne
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Exalting Alsiyada 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.
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