Shinko » Hibernal Den » Siren

Siren

(#40117473)

Level 1 Pearlcatcher

Griffin

Dripcave Deputy

Energy: 50/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

5.68 m

Wingspan

5.52 m

Weight

428.98 kg

Genetics

Metals
Tapir

Dust
Safari

White
Ghost

Hatchday

Mar 14, 2018
(6 years)

Breed

Adult
Pearlcatcher

Eye Type

Lightning
Dark Sclera

Level 1 Pearlcatcher

EXP: 0 / 245

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

Offspring

none

Biography

Siren the Pearlcatcher
Shadetouched Wraith

Allegiance

Loner

Theme Song:

"The Wolf" - Phildel

Sometimes, an egg will be lost for one reason or another. Stolen, orphaned, washed away in a storm, it's impossible to tell a lot of the time. So when the earth clan found a little lightning egg in their territory, they didn't think much of it. One pair within the group took pity on the little egg, and adopted it as their own, raising the pearlcatcher chick inside as a younger sister to their skydancer son Mornelithe. The named her Siren.

Siren and Mornelithe were inseparable as siblings, best friends and constant companions. When eventually Mornelithe took a mate and had a son of his own, Siren doted on her little nephew.

Then came the war.

It was an arcane clan to the south, pushing upwards to expand their territory. A huge arcane clan, crafty in the ways of magic, and Siren's clan could not hope to hold against them. They were driven further and further back with each battle, and suffered heavy casualties- including Mornelithe's mate. Finally, another earth flight clan heard of their plight, and came to their rescue. It was not an easy victory, but finally the arcane clan was driven back.

Broken and with most of their membership either dead or scattered, what was left of Siren's clan asked to join with their saviors, lest they become victims again as soon as the other clan left. The savior clan agreed, but at a cost- they were purists, who would not tolerate any dragon not of the earth element in their clan. Siren would have to be exiled. There was protestation, at first, but eventually self-preservation and desperation won out, and to Siren's horror she found herself being chased from the only home she'd ever known by teeth and talons. Mornelithe followed her a ways, begging the ones tormenting her to stop, but they would not listen. Siren asked her brother to come with her, trusting that he would never stay with the clan that had turned on her. But he claimed that he could not- he had his son still, who was far too small to survive in the wastelands of Dragonhome without a clan to protect him.

Betrayed, Siren fled into the desolated badlands, spending years living alone in caves and fissures and scrapping for survival. Alone, and torn apart by grief, she started to go mad. She obsessed over the idea that the elemental divisions between the flights- the war with arcane, and then her exile for being of lightning- were the root of all evil in Sornieth. After all, hadn't the warring between the original eight almost destroyed the world once? Hadn't the warring between Gladekeeper and Plaguebringer kept the world from recovering properly during the third age?

Perhaps the Shade in those stories had been in the right. Maybe it hadn't been evil, but merely a cosmic attempt to bring balance, and end the ceaseless, pointless conflicts.

This idea took root in her mind and began to germinate. Her aimless wandering took on purpose, and she began to hunt out rumors and whispers that might help her find some wandering fragment of that ancient eldritch horror. It took a long time, but eventually she found it- a shade fragment that was large enough and strong enough for her purposes, and more importantly, that wasn't bonded to any other creature or object already. She allowed it to posses her body, it's influence shattering what feeble remains their were of her sanity, and with its power she set about remaking the world in her deluded image of perfection.

However, she found that dragons, born in magic and given breath by the powers of the elemental gods, could not properly function without magic. When she robbed them of their magic, they did not die outright, but they were left as barely sentient husks with no memory or personality. They would wander aimlessly until eventually they died of exposure or starvation.

But at least they would not be going to war, she reasoned from the depths of her broken mind. And while she worked to figure out how the husks might be made sapient again, she could use these shattered creatures to wreak her revenge on the ones who had betrayed her.

She found her way back to the clan she had once called her family, and began to stalk the boundaries of their territory. Any stragglers who wandered away from the group she ambushed, and brutally stripped of every last mote of elemental magic, before turning them loose to wander back home. The clan began to panic, not sure what was going on, and seeing them as terrified and grief-stricken as she'd once been filled Siren with an awful glee. Then, one day, she saw her nephew- now a teenager- wandering the woods alone. The moment was too good; this was the dragon for whom her brother, her ultimate betrayer, had abandoned her. She attacked her nephew, but did not immediately drain his magic. Instead she held him, waiting until Mornelithe began to search for him, and forced her brother to watch as she reduced his son to a mindless husk.

That turned out to be a mistake; ravaged by grief and blind vengeance, Mornelithe actually managed to chase Siren away from their clan, and trailed her as she fled further and further south through Sornieth. It seemed as if nothing she did could shake him off her trail, and some stubborn, lingering spark of her old personality would not let her make him a husk as she'd done to so many others.

He finally managed to corner her in a desolate stretch of the Southern Icefields, and struck the fatal blow that should have ended her reign of terror. Instead, however, inky darkness knit her wounds together- the shade, it seemed, had made her immortal. But it's presence brought an even fiercer foe down upon both of their heads; mammoth dragons, like tundras if tundras were a thousand times more monstrous. The gaolers, they called themselves, prison wardens for shade-touched like Siren. They took her, making Mornelithe one of their own, and locked her away deep underground where she could never hurt anyone ever again.

She had no idea how long she'd been stuck in the Icewarden's prison. A long time. Long enough that the shade fragment she had allowed to bind to her grew so ravenous it finally turned on her. It began to slowly, over the course of years, siphon away her magic as she had done so many times to others. She didn't notice at first, attributing her growing dull lethargy to the depression of long captivity. Eventually, despite drawing it out as long as it could, the shade fragment had taken all she had to give, turning her into the same sort of husk she had made of so many others. And still she did not die, her body wasting away, her scales becoming spectral, her memories of life before capture dim and foggy, and still she did not die. Vague impressions of her old personality and motivations, imprinted on the shade fragment, which took full control of her husk in a dark echo of what she had once been.

But when for the fleetest of moments the gaolers were distracted, she took her chance to flee and lose herself to the endless blizzards that raged outside. Free. Free at last.

Free, and hungry.

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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 Siren 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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