Torbjorn
(#42080073)
Level 8 Snapper
Familiar
Ragepuff
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Water.
Male Snapper
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.78 m
Wingspan
2.19 m
Weight
6910.23 kg
Genetics
Ice
Iridescent
Iridescent
Nightshade
Seraph
Seraph
Sand
Gembond
Gembond
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 8 Snapper
EXP: 13392 / 16009
STR
42
AGI
6
DEF
10
QCK
20
INT
5
VIT
11
MND
5
Biography
The Jewel Keeper
Ever since he was but a hatchling, Tor knew that he was different from the rest of his species. For all his life, all he was ever told was that he was a Snapper dragon, and that meant constant migration. Moving, walking, stepping, leaving their marks and constantly making new ones to replace the ones that had faded. Night, day, night, day, night, day, night, day. He heard stories, lores, legend. About the humans, about the Eight, about the world ending over and over, and debates on whether or not it is destined to happen again. But ever since he was a hatchling, Tor always had trouble keeping up. He would get sidetracked looking at a flower, or talking to a different dragon, almost causing him to get left behind by his troop. Snappers were always more of a hoard type, and there was little to no individuality. So as he came of age, he knew he needed something different. So one day, he just stopped. He stopped walking, and just lay by the countryside for a while. For days on end, he lay there and watch the world pass by. He'd make small conversation with any dragons passing by, hiding behind a nearby rock for hostiles, and just staring at the sky. Until one day, a guardian, cloaked in all black happened upon his path, and his curiosity piqued.
"Hello," the deep voice rumbled from his throat, like rocks sliding around on the ground. The guardian turned to look at him, her eyes trying to hide under the cowl, but the gentle green glow of her eyes still shining like two reflective emeralds under the hood. She just looked at him, unspeaking.
"What's your name? My name is Torbjorn." His voice grumbled out again from his throat, as the other continued to simply stare at him. He started to get slightly uncomforted by the sickening silence before finally, her voice rang out.
"...Silver," she practically whispered, her voice no louder than the soft breeze of the wind. He smiled, his eyes squishing softly upwards.
"That's a very nice name."
They continued on in conversation for a while. He learned that she was an assassin, mostly hired to take out those dragons that turn corrupt or evil. She had learned that he was a home-bound nomad, which in of itself was a direct contradiction. There was one question lingering in the very back of his mind...
"Where's your home?"
Silver turned to look at the side, tilting her head a little. "I reside in one of the deteriorating structures that humans built millenia ago. I live there with my mother and father, and my nestmate."
He tilts his head a bit. "So you're still with your family?"
She looks to the side a bit, before looking back at him, and shaking her head. "I was lost, much like you. I had no home, stricken from it at a young age due to my nature. A fae and her mate took me under their wings. Those are my parents, and that is my home."
A soft glimmer of hope shone in his eyes as he looked at the guardian again, standing up. "Do you think your clan has room for one more wayward soul?"
She smiled, genuinely smiled. "I think we could find a spot."
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
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Exalting Torbjorn 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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