Andraste
(#43793328)
snuff...rend...return our land...to order...
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Energy: 49/50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.73 m
Wingspan
4.04 m
Weight
389.75 kg
Genetics
Blue
Wasp
Wasp
Gold
Bee
Bee
Metals
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
Biography
A N D R A S T E
acolyte of the sun
CONNECTIONS
THE MOTHER. Andraste struggles on the best of days to believe the Lightweaver is doing what is right anymore. In her mind, the words echo: "The Imperials were a mistake that must be rectified." The sight of the breed, however, fills her less with sorrow, but shame. Though her conflict with Belenus is unending, she must acquiesce to one truth he insists upon: They are dragons. Dragons that think, that FEEL. What is the good of Sornieth without her siblings of the light? Andraste yet awaits her deity's next statement. She will follow - she always has - yet the task at hand makes her wish her own end were possible. |
THE SISTER. What a fool, what a fool. Only the shadow could ever seek to blot out the sun. Blood for blood, if she must, Andraste will keep shadow's imbalance at bay, even snuffing out extensions of her will to prevent further damage to the light. It has been her calling from the beginning: Protect. Preserve. |
THE IDOL. A mystical artifact discovered near the Sunportal on her last visit to the Sunbeam Ruins, Andraste finds herself prone to speaking to this...Familiar when she's alone. It's an odd sort of statue; it remains as pristine as it was when it was first carved no matter what strikes it, and it occasionally seems to shake or shift its posture, ever so slightly. Adding to its peculiar nature, the word "IDOLATRY" is carved along its neck, and it, too, cannot be carved away. |
THE BEAST. Andraste finally understood. Thirty-eight eyes gazed upon the shimmering afternoon horizon as Luminax continued their rampage, joyfully rolling in once-beautiful meadows like hatchlings in their nest. For the first time in centuries, Andraste was afraid. She understood, then, the Lightweaver's sentiment. She understood the terror. Surely there had to be another way. |
LORE BELOW IS OUTDATED.
"I wanna hear a story, Mama! The one you learned from Mr. Tourmaline!"
"Are you sure? It might be a little scary for a bedtime story...And Tourmaline would be the best dragon to ask about this particular story."
"Naw, tell me the story! Tell me!"
"...Oh, all right. Once upon a time, there were two eggs, imbued with the Lightweaver and Shadowbinder's essences..."
"Are you sure? It might be a little scary for a bedtime story...And Tourmaline would be the best dragon to ask about this particular story."
"Naw, tell me the story! Tell me!"
"...Oh, all right. Once upon a time, there were two eggs, imbued with the Lightweaver and Shadowbinder's essences..."
Her first form is that of an Imperial, one of the last new ones the Lightweaver will ever create. She is blue as the daylight sky with a shimmering golden mane across her back. Beside her, a Skydancer slumbers, just as new to the world as she is. Though he is a bright ivory in color, hate courses through the Imperial at the sight of his eyes.
They are dark, terrifying. Black tears leak from them, something her mind only connects with one word: SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE.
Within hours of hatching, the Imperial rakes her claws down the Skydancer's stomach and leaves him.
They are dark, terrifying. Black tears leak from them, something her mind only connects with one word: SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE.
Within hours of hatching, the Imperial rakes her claws down the Skydancer's stomach and leaves him.
"...And so the Imperial set out to purge the world of its darkness. Alone, without the burden of her Shadow-born nestmate, she became a beloved healer, even going so far as to look into curing those afflicted by the Shade. Nobody knows if she was able to, however, because..."
The Imperial lands in her study once again, looking over everything she has. Vials of disease, ones she believes were made from the Shade itself, line the walls. Parchment is scattered across every surface of the room.
She is close. She can feel it. She is close to a breakthrough, and she can already hear the Lightweaver singing for her. She will banish the Shade's presence before it rises up once again. She will -
"Hellooo? Is anybody theeere?"
A claw taps at a closed window to the room, and the Imperial shuffles towards the sound. Books and documents are scattered about by her weighty tail.
The face that greets the Imperial is that of an ivory Skydancer.
And she remembers.
"I...Impossible," she gasps, "You were killed at birth!"
"By your own claws, no less," the Skydancer plainly remarks, "For the most natural phenomenon! Ichor, leaking from the eyes! Surely you've seen such a thing by now!"
"No...No, I've seen it plenty of times. That was far from some natural condition," the Imperial spits, slamming her paws against the window, "You were...You were diseased! Shade-touched! I have seen shadow newborns! You were diseased, you were -"
The black essence begins to drip from the Skydancer's eyes once again.
It should simply be a natural, common disease from the Tangled Wood. It is a natural disease. This isn't Shade, but something in her mind says it, loud and clear.
SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE.
"You are...Still diseased," she murmurs, "I should carry medicine. Medicine for eye discharge like your own. Stay there."
The Skydancer continues to rap away at the cracks in the massive window. Oh, she'll learn eventually, he tells himself. He tells himself her time is coming, the moment her next attempt on him is made.
And she doesn't make it when she opens the window.
"Forgive...Forgive my rudeness." The Imperial swallows hard, handing a small vial to the Skydancer. "This should clear your eyes, provided it isn't the Shade at work. If you would care to stay here...Before it becomes more serious..."
"...I'll have to take you up on that offer."
The Skydancer watches her for days.
She's up to something. His eyes clear, and his tears are no longer a horrid mess. He still believes she's up to something.
Then he makes the mistake of letting his guard down.
She is close. She can feel it. She is close to a breakthrough, and she can already hear the Lightweaver singing for her. She will banish the Shade's presence before it rises up once again. She will -
"Hellooo? Is anybody theeere?"
A claw taps at a closed window to the room, and the Imperial shuffles towards the sound. Books and documents are scattered about by her weighty tail.
The face that greets the Imperial is that of an ivory Skydancer.
And she remembers.
"I...Impossible," she gasps, "You were killed at birth!"
"By your own claws, no less," the Skydancer plainly remarks, "For the most natural phenomenon! Ichor, leaking from the eyes! Surely you've seen such a thing by now!"
"No...No, I've seen it plenty of times. That was far from some natural condition," the Imperial spits, slamming her paws against the window, "You were...You were diseased! Shade-touched! I have seen shadow newborns! You were diseased, you were -"
The black essence begins to drip from the Skydancer's eyes once again.
It should simply be a natural, common disease from the Tangled Wood. It is a natural disease. This isn't Shade, but something in her mind says it, loud and clear.
SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE. SHADE.
"You are...Still diseased," she murmurs, "I should carry medicine. Medicine for eye discharge like your own. Stay there."
The Skydancer continues to rap away at the cracks in the massive window. Oh, she'll learn eventually, he tells himself. He tells himself her time is coming, the moment her next attempt on him is made.
And she doesn't make it when she opens the window.
"Forgive...Forgive my rudeness." The Imperial swallows hard, handing a small vial to the Skydancer. "This should clear your eyes, provided it isn't the Shade at work. If you would care to stay here...Before it becomes more serious..."
"...I'll have to take you up on that offer."
The Skydancer watches her for days.
She's up to something. His eyes clear, and his tears are no longer a horrid mess. He still believes she's up to something.
Then he makes the mistake of letting his guard down.
"...It hit the Skydancer all at once: He had fallen in love! Days spent assisting the Imperial in her tower had helped to forge a bond between the two, and soon, they were inseparable. Together, they swore to purge the world of its ills..."
"Oh, Deirdre, how could I have DARED function without you?" the Skydancer lazily asks, "Were it not for you, I'd still be some sick wanderer, stuck sifting through the Tangled Wood..."
"Yes, it would be nice to cut through the woods," the Imperial murmurs in response, "Could do with more light...More light..."
"...Deirdre?"
For a moment, Deirdre is in a trance. Her ears are held high, as if she's hearing something. Some calling from above.
"...Naoise..." she whispers, "We must...The light. The Lightweaver speaks. Our influence, it must spread. We must leave the Sunbeam Ruins."
"Pray tell," Naoise replies warily, "What might you mean by...Spread?"
"The Tangled Wood is diseased. We must fight to expand," Deirdre continues, "Break the dawn above it, bring about a dawn the shadows have never seen before."
Naoise is quiet for a long while.
"...I take it...The Shade? You wish to smoke it out?" he quietly concludes, "And you believe I would simply allow it? The destruction of my homeland? An imbalance in nature?"
Deirdre slams her foot to the ground, snarling as she towers over her partner.
"I am as I am, and I am the Lightweaver's child!" she growls, "You are my partner, my love, dedicated to the Shade's eradication! Where there is shadow, there is Shade! It must be purged!"
Naoise says nothing, only readying his claws.
"Then you have made a terrible mistake."
"Yes, it would be nice to cut through the woods," the Imperial murmurs in response, "Could do with more light...More light..."
"...Deirdre?"
For a moment, Deirdre is in a trance. Her ears are held high, as if she's hearing something. Some calling from above.
"...Naoise..." she whispers, "We must...The light. The Lightweaver speaks. Our influence, it must spread. We must leave the Sunbeam Ruins."
"Pray tell," Naoise replies warily, "What might you mean by...Spread?"
"The Tangled Wood is diseased. We must fight to expand," Deirdre continues, "Break the dawn above it, bring about a dawn the shadows have never seen before."
Naoise is quiet for a long while.
"...I take it...The Shade? You wish to smoke it out?" he quietly concludes, "And you believe I would simply allow it? The destruction of my homeland? An imbalance in nature?"
Deirdre slams her foot to the ground, snarling as she towers over her partner.
"I am as I am, and I am the Lightweaver's child!" she growls, "You are my partner, my love, dedicated to the Shade's eradication! Where there is shadow, there is Shade! It must be purged!"
Naoise says nothing, only readying his claws.
"Then you have made a terrible mistake."
"Naoise fought the Imperial for many days, until both collapsed and fell from the tower. The structure crumbled to dust, and Deirdre's work was lost to time."
"But Mama, what about the rest of it? Tourmaline always said there was more!"
"And there is, dearest. Naoise and Deirdre returned to their first forms: Eggs. Born in different nests to different parents, it is said the two have returned to Sornieth countless times, bringing destruction to those around them until one of them inevitably falls...And then the winner waits. They wait for the day that their love will return to them, and they will fight once more in a grueling battle of light against darkness..."
"But Mama, what about the rest of it? Tourmaline always said there was more!"
"And there is, dearest. Naoise and Deirdre returned to their first forms: Eggs. Born in different nests to different parents, it is said the two have returned to Sornieth countless times, bringing destruction to those around them until one of them inevitably falls...And then the winner waits. They wait for the day that their love will return to them, and they will fight once more in a grueling battle of light against darkness..."
Deirdre awakens with a long, weighty sigh, and eyes all across her being. No longer burdened, she wants to say...No. She can sense it. Sense him, and the disaster he brings through his mere existence.
When Deirdre arrives at the camp of Notus Silver, claiming to be a spiritual leader and healer from the Sunbeam Ruins, she is welcomed with open arms. The clan is in desperate need of more medics, it seems. She becomes fast friends with her fellow medics - A Nature-born Skydancer with a strange affinity for the dead, a Coatl with a family tree more tangled than anything Deirdre could ever create during her days as a mortal, a Wildclaw who keeps her eyes closed to prevent the Shade from entering...
And she is no longer Deirdre, but Andraste, and she calls the sun for her clan.
But sometimes, Belenus arrives at her den. She is not so easily fooled, and she knows this is Naoise, just in his newest form and working on his newest plot for a paradise of shadow.
A voice tugs at the back of her mind as a Shadow-born Imperial walks in.
Mistakes.
She tries to ignore it, but it happens again. The clan's mortician, an Imperial, arriving to make sure she doesn't have any bodies to haul off. The toxicologist's apprentice, an Imperial, delivering antidotes to some poor sucker. The odd mage, an Imperial, looking to chat with the medical den's Skydancer.
Mistakes. They are mistakes. It is the Mother's calling that they be corrected.
Andraste sharpens her claws that night and goes hunting for the first time.
Nobody questions why the mortician is needed the next morning to haul away an Imperial's body and go through the burial rites before the clan has an Emperor on its tail.
Nobody has to.
Let the light shine freely and forever. Let the dawn come and remain, everlasting.
Let the shadows that once clouded our world be cleansed forevermore.
When Deirdre arrives at the camp of Notus Silver, claiming to be a spiritual leader and healer from the Sunbeam Ruins, she is welcomed with open arms. The clan is in desperate need of more medics, it seems. She becomes fast friends with her fellow medics - A Nature-born Skydancer with a strange affinity for the dead, a Coatl with a family tree more tangled than anything Deirdre could ever create during her days as a mortal, a Wildclaw who keeps her eyes closed to prevent the Shade from entering...
And she is no longer Deirdre, but Andraste, and she calls the sun for her clan.
But sometimes, Belenus arrives at her den. She is not so easily fooled, and she knows this is Naoise, just in his newest form and working on his newest plot for a paradise of shadow.
A voice tugs at the back of her mind as a Shadow-born Imperial walks in.
Mistakes.
She tries to ignore it, but it happens again. The clan's mortician, an Imperial, arriving to make sure she doesn't have any bodies to haul off. The toxicologist's apprentice, an Imperial, delivering antidotes to some poor sucker. The odd mage, an Imperial, looking to chat with the medical den's Skydancer.
Mistakes. They are mistakes. It is the Mother's calling that they be corrected.
Andraste sharpens her claws that night and goes hunting for the first time.
Nobody questions why the mortician is needed the next morning to haul away an Imperial's body and go through the burial rites before the clan has an Emperor on its tail.
Nobody has to.
Let the light shine freely and forever. Let the dawn come and remain, everlasting.
Let the shadows that once clouded our world be cleansed forevermore.
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Exalting Andraste to the service of the Earthshaker 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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