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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.16 m
Wingspan
4 m
Weight
566.43 kg
Genetics
Cornflower
Clown
Clown
Smoke
Peregrine
Peregrine
Aqua
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 6 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 3553 / 8380
STR
6
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
20
INT
22
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
A Z E R O T H SEER - HIGH MAGE CUNNING | CRUDE | COLD |
And the world cried, hands reaching for a death it could not see. It all began with a thought. Just a thought. The thought wasn’t extraordinary, peculiar, strange. It wasn’t even spectacular. It was the type of thought that everyone thought was a boring thought. A “what if” thought. Granted, perhaps the thought was strange. Maybe abstract regarding the situation, time, place, and being of the thinker. No one expected a true blue dragon with a lounge about pearl in talon to think such a way. Much less in such a place. She was here since the beginning, perhaps not of time, but long enough. Enough to have sentience and stray, to question and answer. Who was she again? Azeroth, yes, she felt the name had semblance somewhere else far from here, but in her world, Sornieth. Azeroth was Azeroth. Her. No one else, not anyone but her. Azeroth and her little pearl. She preferred it here with her written existence in a rag-tag, barely-kept-together clan. In fact, she preferred the bleakness. It helped her think and gather her thoughts. Thoughts are what kept her together. If she couldn't think then she was no more. No better than a speck of grass she crushes under a foot. No better than a beast. Azeroth soon found, melodies soothed the flow. They calmed a storm inside her skull no idea could enslave, it honed her vision. Taught her to breathe not only with her lungs, but with her mind. She could answer her own dismay this way, churn the tides of the forgotten. “Are you mad?” asked the many who have all but just realized her thoughts. The only response from Azeroh was guffaw, a cherishing pat of the pearl. “No. Perhaps you are the mad one,” it was this retort that often left her in solitude from strangers. Not that she cared, strangers were the weird ones. Dressed like mannequins with delicate steps on tainted soil as if acid would spit out from the dirt at one wrong step. Cringing at the sick world like its existence was a sin. They were the sin; prideful, and gluttonous. It was they who were truly ill. She was grateful for her twisted world, her “crazy” mind, wicked ways, diseased existence. Even since youth, the brain was hers and hers alone. No one could have it, no one could be it. No one could do it better then her. She was made for it. And it for her. |
RELATIONSHIPS
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HISTORY
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POSSESSIONS
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ART
Template by Maevepanda
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Exalting Azeroth to the service of the Plaguebringer 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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