Grima
(#44361199)
"I am the wings of despair, the breath of ruin. I am Grima."
Familiar
Nightfall Imp
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 39/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Male Imperial
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
25.75 m
Wingspan
21.13 m
Weight
7898.17 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Metallic
Metallic
Nightshade
Bee
Bee
White
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
120
AGI
10
DEF
5
QCK
64
INT
5
VIT
26
MND
5
Lineage
Biography
The darkness surrounds me, as though my eyes are closed although I will them to be open. Flashes of color are burned into the landscape, glaring lingerers from pure, manifested power.
I turn around in the landscape, only stopping when I realize the sharp tick in my neck. As I reach upwards I freeze, a phantom touch brushing against the wound as my memories run back to me.
-
The first thing I see is the peak, and then the feeling of static and hot fire as Chrom and Robin- the body of me- of myself, from another ruined future- standing with their weapons. I see their desperation, and their resolve- but in Robin’s I also see my own panic as I try to take back control of my vessel.
It’s no use, because within moments it seems I, the Fell Dragon, am head to head with Chrom and my Avatar, and I see their power. I see them stand over my head as my power drains, I see Robin, ready to press their power against my very being in destroy me.
I also see them falter, for just a second, as perhaps their possessor reminds them that I am, in a way, the same as them. Their delay lasts just a moment too long, and I see Chrom raise their sword instead; It goes down without hesitance.
In a flash of an odd feeling, I don’t know what it is- it was almost like the feeling of the sword’s cut- I am back in another moment. The form of Validar is before me, and I feel my own memory wash around the blackness as I remember myself reviving him. At the time I had shown to him that if he would fail in the face of the shepherds again- if he would fail to bring me back to my glory- his fate would be worse than the death I had brought him back from.
Of course, he had failed, brought down by the Shepherds once again even after the promising event of his retrieving the Fire Emblem- which I had thought would be the answer to the return of my previous renown.
The next thing I see is an odd memory- in fact I don’t believe it is my memory at all. I see myself, or who I recognize as at least one of myself, approaching the Avatar and possessing their body- something I had failed to do myself. Perhaps it was a memory of my “other self” …
As I watch, more memories run back to me. I see the man of who Naga had bonded- I remember the Falchion at his hip, I remember myself bonding with him- so sure that my defeat alongside a descendant of Marth, and a wielder of the Falchion, was impossible. I remember all the others who had burnt when I had tried possessing them- their body too weak, and the blood too reluctant to combine with my own. Then, I had been sure that the man would be my true Avatar.
These memories begin to grow duller as they go on, their happenings much too old for me to remember. I feel myself contained to a vial, my form still too small to contain the power I would later hold, and I remember my creator’s face- he is my only comparable reference to what humans so often believe their strongest trait is- love.
At last, the memories start drawing to a close. I begin to lose feeling, the land begins growing colder, and impossibly darker, as I draw to my first moment. A burn begins weaving itself throughout me- it sent sparks under my being- until I felt the urge to curl upon myself as hellfire seemed to burn all around me- I knew what this feeling is, I remember it.
I was back at my own creation.
The pain disintegrates as I can no longer feel it. I lose my thoughts the next moment. In my last, I fall into my slumber- into another millennium of waiting.
I turn around in the landscape, only stopping when I realize the sharp tick in my neck. As I reach upwards I freeze, a phantom touch brushing against the wound as my memories run back to me.
-
The first thing I see is the peak, and then the feeling of static and hot fire as Chrom and Robin- the body of me- of myself, from another ruined future- standing with their weapons. I see their desperation, and their resolve- but in Robin’s I also see my own panic as I try to take back control of my vessel.
It’s no use, because within moments it seems I, the Fell Dragon, am head to head with Chrom and my Avatar, and I see their power. I see them stand over my head as my power drains, I see Robin, ready to press their power against my very being in destroy me.
I also see them falter, for just a second, as perhaps their possessor reminds them that I am, in a way, the same as them. Their delay lasts just a moment too long, and I see Chrom raise their sword instead; It goes down without hesitance.
In a flash of an odd feeling, I don’t know what it is- it was almost like the feeling of the sword’s cut- I am back in another moment. The form of Validar is before me, and I feel my own memory wash around the blackness as I remember myself reviving him. At the time I had shown to him that if he would fail in the face of the shepherds again- if he would fail to bring me back to my glory- his fate would be worse than the death I had brought him back from.
Of course, he had failed, brought down by the Shepherds once again even after the promising event of his retrieving the Fire Emblem- which I had thought would be the answer to the return of my previous renown.
The next thing I see is an odd memory- in fact I don’t believe it is my memory at all. I see myself, or who I recognize as at least one of myself, approaching the Avatar and possessing their body- something I had failed to do myself. Perhaps it was a memory of my “other self” …
As I watch, more memories run back to me. I see the man of who Naga had bonded- I remember the Falchion at his hip, I remember myself bonding with him- so sure that my defeat alongside a descendant of Marth, and a wielder of the Falchion, was impossible. I remember all the others who had burnt when I had tried possessing them- their body too weak, and the blood too reluctant to combine with my own. Then, I had been sure that the man would be my true Avatar.
These memories begin to grow duller as they go on, their happenings much too old for me to remember. I feel myself contained to a vial, my form still too small to contain the power I would later hold, and I remember my creator’s face- he is my only comparable reference to what humans so often believe their strongest trait is- love.
At last, the memories start drawing to a close. I begin to lose feeling, the land begins growing colder, and impossibly darker, as I draw to my first moment. A burn begins weaving itself throughout me- it sent sparks under my being- until I felt the urge to curl upon myself as hellfire seemed to burn all around me- I knew what this feeling is, I remember it.
I was back at my own creation.
The pain disintegrates as I can no longer feel it. I lose my thoughts the next moment. In my last, I fall into my slumber- into another millennium of waiting.
by @CoffeeCaat
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Exalting Grima to the service of the Stormcatcher 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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