Ashtryel
(#43389855)
Level 10 Imperial
Familiar
Starry Ampelope
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
26.12 m
Wingspan
21.26 m
Weight
7512.79 kg
Genetics
Shadow
Metallic
Metallic
Blackberry
Alloy
Alloy
Mulberry
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 10 Imperial
EXP: 485 / 27676
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
5
INT
8
VIT
8
MND
6
Biography
   
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Deep in the Ashfall Wastes, there lives a clan known only in whispers. It is a small group which skulks in the shadows, carrying out sinister and clandestine activities with the precision of a knife. Ashtryel is a member of that clan, though in quiet moments where she can be honest with herself, she wonders how it came to this. There were happier times, once. She was born into a prosperous clan, where she was nurtured and loved despite her small size. Though small at birth, many believed she would grow into herself eventually, but that day never came. She always remained small and sleek. By adulthood, she was merely half the size of a typical adult imperial. Some might tease her as a runt, but that didn’t appear to be true. She experienced no health problems and was not weak. Only small. Her size was a curiosity, but her abilities were a much better conversation starter. Her scales and feathers bore a strange property: the ability to harden at will. Her parents noticed when she was still young, as she would sometimes harden her scales in protest of being told to do something she didn’t want to do. They became crystalline and wickedly sharp, though they left her body stiff. Eventually the hardened skin coverings would disintegrate into a fine dust, leaving her again free and flexible. However, the soft skin left behind was thin and bare. Each time she used this peculiar power, she’d be vulnerable until her scales and feathers could recover. Of course, this also limited her ability to fly, once she came of age to do so. This crystallization lasted between three and twelve hours, and proved to be a great boon when it came to hunting and combat. Hardened scales made for excellent defense, and feathers easily functioned as blades. Ashtryel looked destined to be a warrior, and trained with enthusiasm. She also befriended a radiant young coatl named Rada. Ashtryel enjoyed the clever and kind-hearted dragon’s company, and she soon came to love her deeply. They spent their days together carefree, trading tales of battles and books. Though still young, both had such a clear and beautiful sense of who they wanted to be. Rada would be a scribe, and Ashtryel would be a gallant warrior. But when the dark day came, she wasn’t yet ready. It was a cold and breezy evening, just before the last pale sunlight was swallowed by night. Everything seemed well. The small imperial curled herself around a fire and prepared to slip away into sleep, comforted by the presence of her friends and loved ones, and especially Rada. Before long, she was rattled from the first moments of sleep by a chorus of howling cries. The ambush was brutal. Ashtryel hardly had time to compose herself before the battle was lost. The enemy washed over them, their eyes gleaming with hunger. It didn’t make sense. The clan had no enemies. There had been no warning. How could this happen? Ashtryel first glimpsed the monster responsible through a flickering bloom of flame. There was a white mirror, moving in slinking, catlike motions as she patrolled the battlefield and issued her orders. Her eyes showed no soul, and her voice showed no mercy. Later, Ashtryel would learn her name: Miasmis. At the time, the little imperial could do nothing but fight. Unfortunately, she was ineffective. She was left wounded, most of her companions slain, and no sign of her dear Rada. Afterward, she spent a time wandering and searching for answers. She heard rumors of the shadowy clan leading assassinations and spying operations out of Ashfall. She learned the name of their most sadistic adherent. So she plunged herself into their world, carrying her now vastly improved skills, and offered herself as their newest assassin. She didn’t want to join them, of course. She wanted only to take the life of Miasmis. She gained entry through Djinn, the clan’s wandering recruiter. Her unique abilities interested him, and he soon laid out tests for her to overcome. Ashtryel managed to prove her strength again and again, until finally, the wildclaw offered her the opportunity for membership. Once she arrived, her task became more complicated. There, living among the filth who’d taken her clan, Ashtryel found her beloved. Rada was there, serving happily as a scribe and scholar for the clan. She was content in her position, but not because she lusted for blood. The gathering and compilation of secrets and information were an engaging puzzle for Rada, but more importantly, she’d come to fear the outside world. Ashtryel swallowed her sorrow. “Who is that?” she asked Djinn. “Ah, yes! The scribe, Rada. She’ll help as you need, but she will not speak,” he replied. There was a cold hesitation. “Why?” Ashtryel asked, after finding her own voice. “It’s a long story.” He told her everything. He told her how Rada was found, dying and alone. How her injuries, or perhaps her trauma, left her unable to speak. How she didn’t know what happened, because she couldn’t remember. When he spoke each word of the story, it was as if he’d plucked out another small piece of Ashtryel’s heart. She didn’t want to accept it, but she soon saw that it was true. Rada was timid and fearful now, and the idea of dropping such a dark secret on her seemed impossible. What would become of her already-weakened heart? Would it be cruel to keep the secret, or more cruel to tell it? Ashtryel does not know. In her desire to make sense of it all, she’s approached Misasmis, and asked her if she was the one who led the attack that day. Just to make sure. After all, many white mirror dragons roamed the world. And yet, Miasmis always just walks away. Now, when Ashtryel sees the mirror with her bone-white scales, she must bite back her fire. ~by Sirrush88 |
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Exalting Ashtryel to the service of the Flamecaller 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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