NorthernLiights' dragon Flagrantia

Personal Style

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

1.75 m

Wingspan

1.04 m

Weight

35.87 kg

Genetics

Blush
Skink

Cantaloupe
Paint

Aqua
Capsule

Hatchday

Feb 21, 2018
(6 years)

Breed

Hatchling
Coatl

Eye Type

Fire
Common

Level 1 Coatl

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

_____

___________________________________________________________

FLAGRANTIA
When I was just a little girl I asked my mother, "What will I be? Will I be...pretty? Will...I be...r..å̵̙͊̾̋̅̊̓͑̿̂̆͂͋̏̋̔̔͊̿̊̎̚-h̵̢̨̢̛̠͉̝̪͇͚̳͍͉̪̟̥̮͕̫̫͓͚͍̳̩̹̗͊̈́̈̃͑͒̍͋̕͝ͅich̷̨̨̙̺̯̘̱͕̜̖͓͈̭͇̜̩̤̃̆̈́̃̒̏͋͋̔̇̃̽̓̽̚̕̕?-?

B I O G R A P H Y

_____ Ignis ran on three legs, her wings tight against her back. Ash and embers rained down from the smoke-laden sky. Her lungs and legs burned each breath a hard, labored pant. Run! I can’t stop! I have to save her! Cradled in one arm clutched tight against her chest, was her hatchling, her darling Flagrantia. Oblivious to the danger, Flagrantia slept. Behind them, the mountain she called home with her mate continued to erupt. Lava violently spewed forth as war raged. Lightning flashed from the smoot clouds that dumped fire and ash upon the Firecaller’s domain with a red-hot fury. Rebellion woke something primal within the volcano. It roared to life with an explosion. Not even that stopped the fighting, fueled by an even hotter rage then the heart of the volcano.

Before times became hard, when she worked the forges with her mate, Ignis had been happy. Flamma had been an apprentice to a Forgemaster. After he finished his apprenticeship, he had been promised a spot among the Masters.

“Soon, Ignis soon! We’re going to be rich,” Flamma exclaimed. “I will buy you the best blacksmith tools on the entire mountain, no! In the entire Flamecaller’s domain.”

“Yes, yes,” Ignis replied with a laugh and she kissed his cheek. “When you’re a Forge Master.”

“No, sooner than that,” Flamma cried out his eyes burned bright with an inner passion. “Great things are going to happen, I know it!”

He spoke eagerly of great wealth, that something amazing was to happen. She believed him. They prepared a nest and she laid a single, perfect egg. Flagrantia hatched, born into a world of heated rumors. Whispered among her fellow workers, sword makers all were hushed tones of rebellion. That the Fogremaster’s were cutting prices on purpose. That they were being cheated. Ignis ignored them. Her daughter needed her.

“Impossible! Flamma isn’t a cheat, his master a good dragon. They wouldn’t do such things,” Ignis muttered to her friends, family, and coworkers. They would settle down, Ignis was right. After each cut in pay, it took more and more to get her loved ones to stop the horrible words of rebellion, theft, and injustice.

BOOM! The scorched, blackened earth trembled and shuddered beneath Ignis. With a groan, the ground rippled and buckled. Steam burst from cracks all around her. Claws dug deep into the stone and she flung out her wings. Ignis felt her grip loosen and her wings started to beat. Flagrantia yawned and her red eyes blinked open. Ignis looked down at her hatchling, her only child, and felt her heart stutter to a stop. Not even three feet below them the earth pulsed white hot and bulged upwards. Like a bloated pimple, the ground gave almost no warning of when it would explode. C-crack! Ignis tucked her daughter tight against her with both arms, her wings beating harder to get away, to get out of range. Like glass, the white and red ground splintered and cracked. No! I can’t get enough altitude in time!

“What’s going to happen to us,” Ignis whispered. Her feathers lay tight and close against her body. She shivered and glanced at the gathered crowds through a narrow slot in the boarded windows. Flamma paced behind her. She knew those dragons who flocked and choked the streets. Their angry shouts and cries drowned out all sounds. Not even the sounds of the mountain could be heard over the yelled curses, chants for the Forgemasters death for crimes against the common dragon.

“Wait here,” Flamma said his feathers puffed out. “I’m going to out the back door and meet up with my Master. He’ll know what to do! But... if I don’t return by nightfall…”

“You have to come back! Flagrantia needs you, I need you,” Ignis hissed at her mate, her feathers suddenly expanded out. Her eyes narrowed as the rage, hate-filled chants grew harsher, louder. "Death to the Forgemasters! Freedom and justice for the common worker! We will be denied no longer!"

“If I don’t come back by nightfall, run. Take our daughter and run. Don’t look back, don’t stop, just run,” Flamma whispered. He kissed Ignis lightly. “I love you and Flagrantia. You’re my treasure. More important than my tools, my trade, and my forge’s fire. I’ll be back soon, Master will have a plan.”

“I love you too,” Ignis replied her vision blurry, her red eyes a sea of unshed tears. Flamma kissed their daughter, pulled a dark cloak over his wings, then quietly left out the small back entrance to their home. Ignis watched her mate leave in total silence before she tore her gaze from the space Flamma had last stood. Tears dropped to the floor and she sobbed softly. She pulled Flagrantia close to her chest and sang a lullaby in hushed, low tones. Her wings wrapped around them both and she sang until her vocal chords seized up and stopped working.

Ignis twisted her body hard. Feathers flew off her wings as she spun around. Her wings surrounded her daughter’s small body. Muscles screamed in pain as she tucked into a small ball. Full grown Fire Dragons could handle extreme heat, their scales hardened and durable after years of working the heat of the forges. The Flamecaller gifted them with this ability. Hatchlings and the young dragons were unable to withstand the killer heat, their scales still soft and weak.

“Ahhh,” Ignis screamed as lava slammed into her back. The pain hit her and the world started to fade in and out. They were tossed upwards and away. Flagrantia started to wail. Thud! Thud! Thud! Her body hit the ground and bounced against the basalt plains. She held her daughter close and prayed. Flamecaller, please! I beg you! Save my daughter! Ignis felt something answer, a whisper that boomed in her mind like a hammer against metal. An offer to save Flagrantia, a promise that her daughter would live long, safe from harm. The cost: Ignis would die. Her soul would be exalted to the Flamecaller’s service for eternity. Yes! I accept! Anything for Flagrantia’s safety!

Beneath the Flamecaller a tiny dragon wailed. Her mother was gone. He stared at the little hatchling and wondered what to do. A deal had been made, but how to best fill it? One massive claw lightly touched the little dragon and she stopped wailing. A scream of fury erupted from her jaws. The hatchling, barely a year old, snapped her teeth at him. She hissed and let out another battle cry. A minuscule lick of flames came out and licked his claw tip. Then she chomped down on his claw and chewed at it eyes full of fire and spirit. Around them, lava flowed, but it diverged around them, giving them both a wide berth. “What should I do with you, little flame? I can not take care of you myself, your kin is at war, and you are too special to be raised by Dragons outside of my domain.”

“Grrrr,” Flagrantia growled and bite down harder on the offending claw. “Grrrr!”

“Hahah,” The Flamecaller chortled. His eyes glittered and he found the biting tickled. He grinned boardly, all of his teeth made from brimstone and fire graced the hatchling with friendly smile. “You are very brave and bitey. Aha! I shall make you a Vampyre. There’s a clan of Fire Dragon Vampyres that will take excellent care of you.”

Gently the Flamecaller extracted Flagrantia from his claw tip. She hissed louder and spat out more flame. He rolled her onto her back and pinned her softly to the ground. He extracted a tiny pebble stuck to his underbelly. It was a piece of his pillar, it contained his essence and the means to make a special kind of Vampyre. He held it before his lips and breathed flame onto it. Soon a molten ball, he pressed it into a flat, oblong disk between two claws. Once it had formed into the proper shape the Flamecaller placed it onto Flagrantia’s exposed back, between her wings. There it burned hot and bright before it sank into her body. Flagrantia’s body glowed bright, her veins shone like molten gold before she returned to normal. The Flamecaller released his hold on the newly formed Vampyre.

Flagrantia snapped her longer, sharper teeth on the closest claw she could reach. She chewed hard and clawed at the dragon who stole away her mother. Flame came from her jaws and she attacked the bad, bad dragon with her all her might.

“Alright, let’s get you to your new clan. They’ll be delighted to have a new Vampyre,” The Flamecaller told the Vampyre hatchling who refused to stop her attack. “You’re destined for greatness, little Flagrantia.”

Ignis: combustion, fire, manifestation of; fire as element; intentionally lit fire (for warmth) (needed for life, as aqua);
Flamma: a flame; source of heat; [in flamma] = on fire; fire as destructive agent;
Flagrantia: blaze, burning; scorching heat; passionate glow of eyes; ardour

_____

Bio template by Mibella, find it here.
Lore by SperoDeoVolente
Animated Coli Sidebars by Nirwana

By: vaporslash

On the front page: Apr 05, 2019, 19:00

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Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.

Exalting Flagrantia 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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